A Good Enough Mommy

I gave up today.

I am not a typical Pinterest mommy. I didn't cloth diaper. I didn't take pictures of my kids on the first day of the month. I didn't make my own baby food.

Pinterest didn't even exist until my youngest was 3, so I guess I have an excuse.

I typically use Pinterest

 to pin things that I will never wear.

To pin things that make me laugh- this one is the most repinned of anything 501 times as of this writing.

To pin tattoos that I want

and of course to pin things I want to do for the kids

If one spends too much time on Pinterest, one can feel inadequate in about 100 different ways. I don't make dessert every day. I don't have enough money/time/energy to label everything in my house with wee tiny chalkboards. I don't work out enough. When I do, I don't wear cute enough clothes that I made myself by upcycling t-shirts.

This definitely goes for moms. I don't pack my kids lunches. I don't make them into adorable shapes. My kids won't touch kale. My kids don't  have bedroom signs with adorable saying on them.

We did do bubble art http://www.pinterest.com/pin/210261876323028128/

Once, we made bubble art. I totally micromanaged it. It still hangs in the boys bathroom and looks super cute, but I was a huge pain in the ass when we did it. I didn't want it to have too many bubbles, I didn't want the boys to be covered in food coloring.

Since before my boys were even born, I have liked scrapbooking. I totally get that it's mommy homemaker, but I like office supplies, pictures, and stickers, and scrapbooking combines all those things into awesome fun times for me.

As the boys got older, I discovered digital scrapbooking, which I actually enjoy even more.

HOWEVER, it's so much work. Editing the pics. Laying out the book. Organizing them by event. Putting cute titles on the pages.  And so on... that now I'm behind about 3 years. By the time I get to even editing the pictures, I won't remember why I took the picture of Agent X with the sassy look on his face or Agent N up to his elbows in mud.

And so I've decided not to continue. I'm going to put pictures in books. I'm sure I'll edit some. But I'm done with the titles and the stickers and the ribbons and the papers. Pictures in books because they tell a story of the things we've done and they remind of of the fun we've had. The boys like to hear stories of what we did together when they were too young to remember. And that's what's important.

Gymnastics for the Snooty Set

Agent X is a pretty active kid. While I have been known to exercise, I am not the kind of parent who is 3 steps ahead of her child at all times. I am the kind of parent who has made up games that involve Agent X running around a lot, while I watch and laugh.

I signed him up for gymnastics at the local rec center in September. He loved it, and isn't half bad. Also, rec gymnastics are cheap- $58 for 14 weeks. Another mom I know hated the classes and yanked her kid out half way through. On the other hand, I signed my kid up for the second session in January.

Local parents with greater financial means tend to send their kids to a place I will call Fancy Flippers. FF is on the edge of town, very near the McMansions that these parents live in. FF costs $89 per month. PER MONTH.

Let's do a little economic instruction for those following along at home:
$58 divided by 14 classes = $4.14 per class
$89 divided by 4 classes = $22.25 per class

And, I've created a little compare and contrast visual for you:

So you can see, FF is cool, but not a sustainable program for Agent X. I MEAN, IT'S $89 FOR 4 CLASSES FOR THE LOVE OF SWEET BABY JESUS!

That $89 draws in a certain type of parent. 

A type that doesn't want their child learning gymnastics with the type of riff-raff that frequents the rec center. The type of parent who tells you certain schools are bad because, and I am quoting here, "There are lots of languages being spoken there." And we're not talking about profanity, kids. 

However, I happened to win TWO months of classes at a charity auction. For $30. Yes, for two whole months! I am sure that the owners of FF would lose their poop if they knew how much I paid, but I'll never tell.

Since I am not *that type of parent* I am fearlessly going into the wild to report back to you my interactions with said parents.

The first type? The Stage Dad.

Dad brings daughter to gymnastics. Dad is a sight to see- black (dyed?) curly hair slicked back neatly into ponytail. So neatly I want to ask how he does it, because my ponytail is never so sleek. Black hipster framed glasses. Black track suit. Last but definitely not to be missed, black Sketchers Shape Ups on his feet. I may actually snort a little upon noticing the shoes.

FF has a half-wall parents must stay behind during classes. Which is fine with me, I can watch but also knit, read, or play games on my phone.

Stage Dad takes this opportunity to pace back and forth on his shoes which may or may not firm ones butt, depending on which study you read. He does this for the first 15 minutes of class.

Then he starts leaning over the wall and giving the stink eye and pointing out instructions to his daughter. He's not talking at this point, but he's clearly communicating with her. She sometimes pays attention, and sometimes does not. She is either 3 or 4, after all.

After a few minutes of this, I have stopped playing games on my phone and start watching him. The stage is his.

Stage Dad starts loudly directing his Little Darling from behind the wall. The finger pointing and visual cues are now supplemented with a very loud voice. Little Darling again pays attention, and then does not.

He decides that his Little Darling is not paying close enough attention. He goes into the gymnastics area and starts giving instruction. There are 6 kids in this class. Two teachers. And now Stage Dad is part of the class. Walking around in the classroom, still very loudly instructing his daughter, but now standing with her the whole time!

Little Darling is on the trampoline, and Stage Dad is right there with her, "Do a tuck jump. Again. Again! That wasn't very high!"

I may be actually laughing out loud at this point. I mean, I feel really bad for Little Darling, but this may be the highlight of my day and I am not missing it! Two of the kids each have a nanny who brings them to gymnastics and at this point they have stopped talking to each other and are watching me watch Stage Dad. I don't care, I am having way too much fun. I would probably be pissed if I were paying full price for those classes, but since I don't really care and it's just an opportunity for Agent X to run around and possibly learn a skill in the process, I'm fine with it. For what it's worth, Agent X has developed a pretty nice forward roll.

Luckily, class ends, and Stage Dad corners the lead teacher and asks her what Little Darling can work on at home to improve her skills.

I am not sure if I will lose my eyeballs in my head from rolling them so much.

Stay tuned, because Agent X has 6 more of these classes.