As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a MOPS Mentor Mom. I don’t really know for sure why I’m a “mentor” and tell my young moms I suppose it’s possible they could maybe learn something from my mistakes. Such as…
When my children were little I thought this or that would be a great mommy thing to do, but instead it caused them to stutter/burp/hit their head against the wall for no apparent reason/hate glitter – you fill in the blank – so don’t do it to your kids.
You see why I might not be best suited for the position.
But every once in a very long while I do have great words of parenting wisdom. A wisdom so profound it garners such looks of awe and appreciation that for a moment I’m embarrassed. Embarrassed that my genius has burned so bright. It’s hard to be humble when you’re a beacon of such enlightenment. But, you know, when you’re that brilliant it just is what it is.
This morning was one of those days. You know what I’m talking about. The kind of day when you’re on fire and everything that comes out of your mouth sounds like something you’d read in an inspirational book or see on Oprah.
Yesterday two of my friends with young children were discussing how they feel bad that they don’t play games for hours with their children like other moms. So this morning I offered them this priceless wisdom:
Don’t worry about it. As they begin to get a little older just start feeding them false memories about how you spent hours upon hours playing their favorite games when they were little. Eventually they will start to believe you and actually think they remember. Bam. You’re the best mother ever.
I KNOW! Brilliant, right?? Sometimes I amaze even myself.