Blaming Mom


Image by Dunechaser via Flickr

You spent most of the weekend trying to herd your children away from Lee.  Last week, your daughter called from further north to give you a heads-up that although a big, fat depression would be sitting on top of the gulf all weekend, she’d be fine with reading, shopping and going to movies.  Perfect—you had two books to finish.

You drove down to the beach early to set up shop.  Along the way, you picked up a huge container of your fam’s favorite chicken salad, and produce at your favorite roadside stand.  You spent the evening ‘fluffing up’ the house to get it ready, arranging shells, candles, flowers and books.  The following morning you bought boatloads of groceries and then you got on your iPad.  Instead of a sun/thunderbolt icon, the Weather Channel app showed a mean, scary storm cartoon for the entire weekend, and the storm warning now ranged to the neighboring beach–your rainy day ‘go to’ venue.  Your crystal ball held images of being stuck in the house for days with the wind howling.  This beach is isolated, and the evacuation route involved driving several hours in the middle of nowhere through floody areas, in order to get to the highway.

Hmmmm.  You look into re-routing the rest of the family in order to salvage the holiday.  This appeared to create some discord.   Your family did not think Lee was such a horrible dude.  Your daughter was very kind and said, “Mom, I know you have a strong maternal instinct which is something I don’t have yet.”  Which was a sweet way of saying, “Mom, you’re ruining my beach vacation because you believe everything the Weather Channel says.”

You started to get defensive–is it your fault there’s a storm?–and feeling like a huge ol’ depression # 13.  Then you thought about your friend Jane.  When she visited Seattle with her family, she attempted to navigate using a ‘real map’ instead of relying on her son’s gps in order to find a cool new restaurant.  Well, how dare she do such a thing; they got stuck in a big, fat traffic jam and all turned on her, their collective blood sugar plummeting.

“Why are we always blamed for everything?  Traffic, weather and whatnot,” she laughed.

Your family finally agreed (the thought of a power-less and wi-fi-less house did the trick) You ate all of the chicken salad, packed up the house and re-loaded the car (much to the bewilderment of the dog) while your sweet husband spent hours re-routing the children.  You spent the holiday back at home, sans sun-bathing.

Yesterday, when your son decided to drive back to school through tornado alley without your consent, you lost it.  How dare he make his own decisions and up and turn into a man before your very eyes.  Couldn’t he wait and drive back early the next day?  But Lee had caught up with us; the following morning looked rushed and rainy.  So you spent the remainder of the holiday tag-team worrying.  First, enlarging weather maps on your desktop to locate red blobs and tornado sightings, while the tornado siren sounded in your neighborhood.  Once he arrived safely, you gave a huge sigh, and then began wringing your hands over your daughter’s flight home, and enlarging the map on your phone to see where the pilot could possibly find an open window in the weather.  Then you got exhausted.  Let the pilot deal with it.  High time to muster up some faith.  You just finished Elizabeth Berg’s novel in which one of her Mom characters learns how to ‘stop trying to control’ everything.  So you said some prayers and went to bed.

Getting home safe and sound, priceless.



A freelance writer who revels in the 1970's...and today. Thoughts on being a baby baby boomer and empty nester. Welcome to the Saturday evening porch.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

18 Responses to Blaming Mom

  1. ryoko861 says:

    I don’t think it’s really control issues we have, it’s sort of our responsibility to make sure everyone is safe. Young kids are reckless. They’ve never experienced what happens when you get stuck in a flood or have a serious accident due to the weather so what’s the fuss? They’re invincible they think, “That’ll never happen to me.”. So as moms we have to be the kill joys of holidays because WE’RE the ones that are responsible if someone gets hurt. We’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t. It’s comes with the territory.

  2. Tori Nelson says:

    The Dude’s favorite saying is “Sorry your mom’s so mean”… to our toddler…who I may or may not have to stop from throwing head-spinning, eye-twitching fits in public. I’ve decided I’m ok to be the bad guy… or bad mom… so long as I don’t raise a bad kid 🙂

  3. Once a mom, always a mom…even when all the kids are adults. It’s just our JOB and by gum, we take our job seriously!! 😉 And heck, how do those boys we nurtured all of a sudden become responsible men??? It’s still a puzzle to me. I am glad to hear all are safe and sound. I was thinking of you when I heard about the bad storms coming through your neck of the woods. :-O

    • Awww, thank you Mama! Has your daughter re-located already? I know you’ll miss that chicken salad! 🙂
      My son did go over all of the hourly weather reports before he made his decision. We didn’t know it was going to get so bad all of a sudden with the tornado warnings, otherwise he would have left before we all watched five episodes of The Office!

      • Not yet, but very soon!! And girl, you are RIGHT, I will miss that chicken salad!! The. Best. Ever. You have to take a little road trip over there to taste the delectable-ness. (not a word, but it fits the bill! 😉 ) A mini-marathon of The Office? That happens here too when the kids are home. Really glad you all are safe!

  4. comingeast says:

    My kids were just like yours until they got into their thirties; then they actually asked me for advice? Excuse me? I became smart all of a sudden?

  5. You are mighty smart, CE!! The thirties sound awesome–maybe when reality sets in with families and such. Mine ask for advice, sometimes, with, ummm, non-weather-related issues 🙂

  6. The story of my life! I especially am good at the tag-team worrying and enlarging weather maps on my computer screen. I was a wreck during Irene with my daughter in Philly and my son in Boston, us in Maine — all apparently in line for direct hits. We all survived. But I was a wreck. My daughter’s text at the end of the hurricane through Philly: “sun’s out, NBD.” Says it all.

    • Oh, Julia–I hear ya! Irene went through D.C. as well, and I kept texting my daughter about it. (After an earthquake the week before, I was like WTH??) But she braved the elements as did yours with NBD. I think that made her even more sanguine about a mere tropical depression, since she’d gone through Irene a mere week prior. But I reminded her that it would be a little different being smack-dab on the coast–on much lower ground and much more isolated. Once the storm was underway, we could not just ‘pick up and drive off’ from those parts.
      But we count our blessings, and kept thinking about those in New Jersey and Vermont etc. with Irene, and those in New Orleans with this–thankfully mostly spared. With the strange weather these days, you just never know.
      Glad your daughter and son are fine, too!

  7. Yep, we are not in control. Teach ’em what you can and hope they are ready and can make good choices. They just might.
    Loved my 30 yr. old daughter’s status update on fb this weekend…are you ready for this? I didn’t even see it coming. Thirty year old daughter: “‎3 boys in my house shooting nerf guns down the stairs while I serve cookies & ask them what teachers they got 4 the upcoming school yr…I’m officially my mom.” What a trophy/award/kudo. I should be jumping up and down that she gets it, she really gets it.
    But…(you knew there was a but coming, right?) Once again, I just kind of stared at it, not smiling…Mom’s never laugh. Wonder why? Oh dear, am I cranky, too?
    I’ll always remember Ruth Bader Ginsberg being confirmed by the senate for justice of the Supreme Court. The thing she was most proud of? A book her children wrote for her, “The Day Mama Laughed”. I laughed until I had tears rolling down my cheeks…my family didn’t understand what was so funny. Love this post and my fabulous mother would too!

  8. Love the 3 boys shooting nerf guns while she is still so very civilized! She so gets it–and what a huge compliment to you. And you are so NOT cranky!!
    I laugh all of the time, but not yesterday, by gum!
    I can tell I would have loved your mother, too! Thanks, Georgette!

  9. winsomebella says:

    Gotta love the fear of a wi-fi-less house. Priceless, indeed.

  10. Beff says:

    Don’t we ALL love the weather channel? Sorry you had to pack up and run back. At least you all got together. Hope it was fun!

  11. Thanks, Beff! You know how I do love that Weather Channel! We did have some fun here at home, after all 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s