Four 'fun' parental duties I didn't find so fun
Thursday, August 2, 2012 
Tooth Fairy duty. Tuesday's question about Tooth Fairy rates reminded me how much I didn't like playing Tooth Fairy when my daughters were young. I didn't like it at all. Not because I didn't want to reward my girls for having lost a tooth but because playing Tooth Fairy scared the <cuss> out of me. Seriously. Every time one of the girls went to sleep with high hopes of finding a dollar under her pillow upon awaking (yes, our rate was $1 per tooth), I dreaded having to sneak into the room, stealthily remove a tooth wadded up in tissue from under the pillow, and replace it with a buck. I just knew I'd be midway through the task, with my hand under a sleepy head while feeling for a papery wad, when the little girl's head would slowly turn my way and her eyes would pop right open and stare at me like a crazed Chucky-type doll.
Considering such scenarios scared me to no end. In fact, it scared me so much I sometimes accidentally on purpose forgot one of my children had gone to bed with high hopes of a dollar magically appearing in the night. 'Twas so much easier and less anxiety producing—for me, at least—to apologize come morning for the Tooth Fairy's poor scheduling then pretend she (or he?) had shown up and made the tooth/dollar trade while the girls were at school. Or, to out of guilt give my daughters their proper due, I'd just steel myself all day for the task, then come nightfall get the stupid duty over as quickly as possible. Which is why the Tooth Fairy would sometimes forget; a day or two preparing myself helped. Get in, grab the tooth, drop the dollar, get out. As quickly as possible! And don't look at her face while doing it!
Oh, the lengths we moms go to in order to convince our kids it's okay to allow charming characters with tooth fetishes into their rooms at night.
Bath time. Yes, bath time for many is a lovely and peaceful nightly ritual shared by mother and child. Not when you have three children to bathe at one time. Bath nights were hell, I mean, <cuss> in our household when the girls were little. At least for me. Thirty minutes of three little girls complaining the others were taking all the space...or all the bubbles...or all the water—yes, all the water!—was not fun. Thirty minutes of repeating, Look up! Look up! Look up! as I shampooed and rinsed and listened to at least one of the girls—sometimes all three of them—crying that they had soap in their eyes was not fun. Even the Rub-A-Dub Doggie with the swivel head wasn't distraction enough to make for fun and frivolous tub time. For any of us.
Sure, it would have been smart to bathe one girl at a time. But with a husband working three jobs, thus gone during bath time, who the heck would have watched the other two (remember, the girls are consecutive ages—16 months between the first two, 19 months between the second two) while I joyfully splished, splashed, and shampooed one at a time? Wasn't happening. I was quite thankful when Brianna became old enough to shower instead of being one of the bathers.
Interesting aside: As a grandma, I still dread bath time...at least when I have to bathe both Bubby and Mac at the same time. When I bathe them separately, it truly is one of the most enjoyable of all grandma duties. When they're together, not so enjoyable. So we opt for individual bath times—as long as there's someone else to entertain the non-bather while the bather and I splish, splash, and enjoy the moment.
Slumber parties. As a mother to three daughters, you'd think I'd be a pro at slumber parties. The girls had a lot of them growing up. Heck, I threw a few of my own accord, as I was a Girl Scout leader for many years and slumber parties were a great bonding experience for the troop. At least that was the original intention.
Just like the slumber parties thrown for my daughters' birthdays and more, though, good intentions at the outset of a slumber party flew out the window sometime soon after midnight when the cattiness of tired and cranky girls brought out the worst in everyone. Including me. By 2 a.m. I was usually gritting my teeth and saying to myself, "I wish they would just go home!" Funny thing is, that was often about the same time whichever daughter of mine was hosting the event would creep up the stairs and into my room to say exactly the same thing: "I wish they would Just. Go. Home."
Of course, we'd all forget about how very un-fun slumber parties were come time to consider having another...and another...and another.
Mall shopping. Being mother to three daughters also meant I was supposed to love clothes shopping with my girls. Seems having my kids at a very early age led to me missing that memo, that lesson in the parenting preparedness classes, for I didn't simply dislike shopping at the mall, I hated it. So much so that I did all I could to avoid it.
Back-to-school shopping was particularly dreadful, at the mall or anywhere else. Reason being, for the most part, because money was always tight, and trying to please three fashion-conscious girls on a limited budget was impossible. Which resulted in many tears—and not just from them. Even when we did manage to have enough money for a planned purchase, there were still tears, especially from one particularly difficult shopper we won't name or point out that she's my middle child and mother to my grandsons.
Ironically, Megan loved shopping most of all, was the one most distressed by my aversion to shopping. Strolling the mall together was supposedly the ultimate mother/daughter activity, the best way for girlie-girls to bond with their mamas. Only, I wasn't the girlie-girl kind of mom Megan longed for. Add my hate for shopping to the long list of other girlie things I didn't do—paint my nails, accessorize correctly (or at all), chat endlessly on the phone for no reason—and it's clear why Megan thought for many years that she had surely been adopted.
As a mom, I was supposed to have fun doing all those things above. I didn't. Maybe you feel the same.
Fortunately my list of things I did have fun doing as a parent is longer. Simply remove from the job description the four duties above and all that's left is what I had fun doing.
Well, for the most part.
Dropping a child off at college wasn't all that fun. Saying goodbye as they packed up the last of their closets and left the nest for good wasn't so much fun either.
Maybe you feel the same.
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Today's question:
What supposedly fun parental duties did you find not so fun?
Reader Comments (11)
My guess is that you are not alone with these feelings but you are brave to be the first to admit to them.
Are mornings supposed to be fun? Husband left house early & I was in charge:
a) Packing assorted gear to drop at babysitter's house when they were babies
b) Hours persuading youngest at school age that turtlenecks would not choke her to death
c) Waiting while oldest went through closet to choose outfit of the day...3x over
d) Trying to get 2 girls curled/pony tailed/barretted/ribboned or whatever 'style of the day' was
e) Two girls and one bathroom ...awful fights when they got older!
f) Horror at the 'inappropriate' outfits they put on when old enough to buy their own clothes
g) Worry when - 20 degrees & a foot of snow = 3" open toed heels & a lightweight jacket
I finally solved it all by staying in bed with covers over my head until they left the house. I'd yell out an, 'I love you!" as I heard them walking out the door, then grab my coffee & start my day. Better only two yelling/screaming vs. three.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. Mornings!!!
I don't think that taking Jenna to the doctor/dentist was supposed to be considered a fun event -- and I am here to tell you -- It Wasn't!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It certainly was the parental duty I dreaded the most.
All that you mentioned above were UN-fun plus: packing SEVEN bag lunches each morning when they were going to contain something that at least one or more kids absolutely hated, breaking up fights about something that had happened at school (I wasn't even there, how could I guess who was telling the truth?), and trying to make sure everyone had on matching socks to go to church on Sundays.
My Granny had told me children step all over your feet as little ones and all over your heart when
they get older; it's TRUE!
Not so fun were the ups and downs of junior and high school years and shopping for either jeans or swim suits. I survived but barely. Glad those duties aren't in the job description for grandparents without custody. Whew.
My daily not-so-fun job: getting the kids to do chores. Between the teenage son sitting around playing videogames all day and the teenage daughter watching "Jersey Shore" (I really don't know which one is worse), I have to keep pushing them to get a move on every thirty minutes.
Judy & Pamela: Yes, the teen years were definitely the most difficult and NOT fun. I think they belong in a completely different category than the woes of Tooth Fairy duty and slumber parties. Oh, it pains me to even think about those days. May have to make that another post.
Yes, from the time I had children I dreaded being the parent of a teenager, and my fears were well-justified. The challenges of being the Tooth Fairy (with which I wholeheartedly agree) were nothing compared to parenting a child old enough to ride in a CAR with a BOY!
I worked the night shift when my children were young. When I came home I had to stay awake till nap time -- I often had to put the children in a stroller and go out walking so I didn't fall asleep sitting in a chair. It was hard being exhausted all the time and that made me sad. I finally got to be a SAHM for awhile i was so happy to do Mommy things wide awake and relished them, even being a tooth fairy...lol!
My worse memory was Little League. Some parents were so mean and competitive. I hated seeing them scream at their sons and other team members. Too many fathers were living vicariously through their children and expected so much from them in sports.
Definitely the teen years were terrifying for me. I couldn't understand how my beautiful, loving child transformed into a rebellious she devil in her teen years! I thought for sure during those teen years that the police would be bringing my juvenile delinquent home one day if she didn't "grow up" soon. Well, she did eventually grow up and behold! She became a cop!
My problem with being the Tooth Fairy was forgetfulness. I would fall asleep and forget to take the tooth and put the money under the pillow. I sucked at it.
I liked slumber parties until the girls got to be young teenagers and boys would come over. I spent one night sitting with my back against the front door to keep the girls from going out to meet boys.
Loved bath time and loved shopping. Still do. Although we did butt heads about appropriate clothing.