The Art of Appearing to be in Control--Smithville Review column, Oct. 3rd

The Art of Appearing to be in Control

Featured in the Smithville Review 10/3/12

Being a young wife and mother has taught me a lot of things, and one of the most useful is the art of appearing to be in control. The fact is, you will never truly be “in control”, so you have to master looking like you are. I’m willing to teach you this art if you are willing to listen.

If your child starts screaming in the grocery store, and everyone looks at you like you’re the worst mom on the planet, start screaming as well. Then say to the person closest to you, “I’m teaching my child the art of primal therapy.” Suddenly, they’ll think your child is screaming because you want them to, not because they love to embarrass you in Wal-Mart. Victory.

If you forget to bring the diaper bag when you go somewhere, you risk looking like an un-attentive mother. But not if you say “We’re teaching our daughter survival skills. When the zombie apocalypse comes, will we have a diaper bag? No.” Disaster averted.

If you burn the roast (or TV dinner), say “This is no mistake, husband.” Tell him you read in some vague magazine that the burnt bits have healing powers and can remove toxins from your system. Instead of looking like an absent-minded mom, you’ll look like Dr. Oz. Somewhat.

Next time your daughter gives you a “makeover” (puts bows in your hair and applies lipgloss to your eyebrows), and you forget to remove it before you go out in public, don’t sweat it. Hold your head up high, and to that lady giving you The Look, say you paid $300 for this hairstyle, thank you very much. Then ask her if she’d like you to give her your stylist’s number.

How do you appear to be large and in charge (scratch that, just in charge) when your daughter tells you to shut up? You have a few options here. You can

a) Say, in a scary voice, “Don’t talk to me like that.” Then lower your eyelids to look more threatening.

b) Start counting to 3 (I don’t know why, but this is surprisingly effective with children)

c) Praise your child and say, “Yes! Shut up is a great thing to say! Please say it all the time!” This works because children notoriously do the opposite of what you tell them. At least in my case.

What if your child shanks you in public? This has never happened to me, but I did witness this at Wal-Mart about 2 years ago. The mom didn’t hesitate. She promptly pulled up her pants, grabbed her child, and gave him 3 solid whacks on the bottom. Was she still embarrassed that the whole store saw her undies? Probably. Did she appear to be in control of the situation? No doubt. I mean, I wanted to give her an award. Or a tighter belt.

One tried-and-true method of appearing to be in control: pretend it’s opposite day. This can be applied to anything you can imagine; I find it extremely effective when I ask a non-pregnant woman when she is due. After I ask, if she looks angry, hurt, or confused, I yell out, “Just kidding! It’s opposite day! I asked you, because you look the opposite of pregnant!” See? Now, you can remain friends. Or “not” remain friends—it’s opposite day, remember?

There are times when you will not be able to hide the fact that you don’t have it all together. When that happens, you can still save face. Just deny that anything happened.

Boss: “But you just sent the entire office, including  me, your boss, an email about my body odor.”

You: “No, I didn’t.”

Boss: “Yes, you did. I have it right here. How can you explain yourself?”

You: “I forgot to tell you! It’s Opposite Day!”

Want more Mother, Interrupted? Visit the blog that started it all at www.interruptedmum.blogspot.com. You can email me at debra.carp@yahoo.com!

Smithville Review Mother, Interrupted column #2: "Tips from Toddlers"

The past week, my 2 year old daughter has impressed me with her observations and ability to remember things. It’s made me realize that toddlers are a lot smarter than most people give them credit for. My daughter can tell us, from the backseat, when we are almost home. This doesn’t really help when we are lost in Nashville, but it’s impressive. She can count to 11 and knows her ABCs. When she counts her fingers, she skips around, but somehow always ends up with 5. Her ingenuity got me thinking. What would happen if toddlers could give each other advice? Maybe it’s a good thing it’s hard for them to be totally understood by other toddlers. Think about the tips they would have for each other. I think it would make parents’ lives a little bit harder…

What’s the best method of reaching that candy bar on the counter?

Using a stick to push it, along with everything else on the counter, to the floor.

Does this slice of bologna work the same as a game in the Playstation?

Of course. Stick it in the disk slot, and leave it there for Mom and Dad to find.

Is it safe to climb tall furniture?

Usually. Make sure the adults aren’t looking, and be very quiet.

My mom is busy doing school work. How can I stop this?

Get so close to her face that she can’t see the book/computer. Refuse to move.

My parents just bought me a new toy. What should I do next?

Forget the toy. Play with the box.

I don’t want this orange juice anymore. Where should I throw it?

It doesn’t matter, as long as you throw it.

What is the big deal about eating crayons?

No big deal. Relax, they’re non-toxic. Parents just don’t like it when your diaper is filled with red, blue, and yellow.

Why does my mom dress me in 5 layers when it’s 70 degrees outside?

Because she thinks you could “catch a cold.” I don’t know what this is, or how fast you’d have to run to catch it, but according to adults, it’s not good.

When it’s very quiet at a wedding or during church, how should I let my parents know I have to use the bathroom?

That’s easy. Yell whatever you need to do in the bathroom as loud as you can. When everyone turns to look at you, it’s because they think you’re cute. Trust me.

So let’s all take a moment to be thankful that “Stop it, that’s MY block!” is the extent of our toddlers’ conversations with each other, unless they have siblings.

Can you imagine the destruction that would happen if adults gave each other advice? Oh, wait…

You can email me to tell me you love/hate my column @ debra.carp@yahoo.com. If you want more Mother, Interrupted check out www.interruptedmum.blogspot.com!

My Smithville Review column Sept. 19th- The apple doesn't fall far from the tree

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, even when the tree is way more well-behaved and definitely does not act like the apple—right??

By Debra Carpenter

debra.carp@yahoo.com

http://www.interruptedmum.blogspot.com

http://www.facebook.com/MotherInterrupted

I love when people tell me that my 2 year old daughter acts just like me. I prefer that they make this connection while she’s reciting her ABCs, counting, or doing something ridiculously cute. However, there are times when she acts less than well-behaved, and somehow people still think this behavior resembles my own. I have a few questions about that, just to clarify my understanding. Bear with me.

Does it really remind you of me when she throws a fit because there is no “chock-it” (chocolate) in her milk?

Does it bring me to mind when you see her run around the coffee table in circles while singing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star?”

Is there any connection between my behavior and hers when she flatly orders you to “Shut. Up” after a gentle suggestion that she take a nap?

Do I really change topics frequently during conversation, like, “Mama, Huckle Cat is on the table and—BOAT. I want boat.”?

How does she remind you of me when she knows she’s done something wrong, and immediately upon seeing you approaching, blocks your view of her actions and says “No spanking, Mama. You no spank Molly”?

Well, okay. I guess I can see a slight resemblance there. But--

Mom, do you ever have a sense of déjà vu from my own childhood when you see her peel her diaper off in front of other people?

When she refuses to eat anything but macaroni and cheese for dinner?

When she tries to strangle the kitten that we so lovingly brought home—for HER?

You do?

Well, then. I suppose we have an interesting time ahead of us. In all seriousness, I am always flattered when someone thinks Molly is just like me. How could I not be? She is an incredible little girl. Whether she’s Miss Behaving or misbehaving, she is always my greatest joy.

My eagerness to be compared to my daughter may also have to do with the fact that I spent the first year of her life being bombarded with statements from everyone (including our parents, strangers, friends, and family) about how much she looked like my husband.

“My, my. That child looks like a female Michael.”

“Goodness, if I didn’t know better, I’d think I was looking at a little Michael!”

“Sorry, Debra, but that child looks just like her Daddy.”

“He sure can’t deny her!” (Duh. We’re married. Try denying that, Michael.)

And my personal favorite, when I try to bargain with the person about who Molly looks like:

Me: “Yeah, she does resemble him…but don’t you think she has my eyes?”

Them: “Nah, those are Daddy’s eyes. She’s got your eyebrows.”

Me: “Eyebrows? What? No. Look at her lips. Now look at mine. Aren’t they similar?”

Them: “No, honey, her lips look like Angelina Jolie’s.”

So, even ol’ Angelina gets credit for my daughter’s good looks, but not me. Talk about UPLIFTING!

Every now and then, some kind soul would lie to our faces and say she looked identical to me, but deep down, I knew the truth. This child is a physical clone of her father and a psychological clone of me.

Good thing he’s handsome, and I am relatively mentally stable—oh look, a BOAT! I want boat!