A Rock To Tie A String Around

I’m confused by the term ‘mommyblogger’. Mostly, because I’ve been called one lately, by more than a few people. By the very most raw definition, I suppose it’s fitting – I am a Momma, and proud of it. However, if you read back through my archives, I rarely blog about anything to do with my genius son, who at a mere two years old can say his alphabet (most of the time) and count to ten, sometimes eleven. Not to mention the fact that he can spot a kitty at a hundred yards and frequently freaks out passing strangers by shouting “Hello! Howru?” He’s a genius, cute too, but that’s not my point.

I think in order to be a true mommyblogger, you have actually blog about your child with some passing frequency, and I also think there must be some kind of prerequisite that you offer parenting advice and/or crafty tips. I do none of these things. I suck at crafts; my parenting advice is limited to a shrug of the shoulders and a profound ‘Huh, no idea, good luck with that.’

I suppose I could start offering up some of the advice that I get from family and friends….that’ll land me in social services land pretty quick. For the record, I never take this advice – it’s just offered to me on a regular basis by my outstandingly Scottish mother and neighbors. I’m actually amazed that any Scottish children live to adulthood.

For example, my son, Mr. Adorablepants, is doing this really cute thing where he smacks and headbutts us. Precious right? Sometimes it’s because he’s frustrated that I want to comb his hair, sometimes it’s because I am being totally unfair and making him put on shoes, sometimes I think he’s just channeling his own internal Tyler Durden. So I asked my Scottish neighbor, she’s in her sixties, has kids and grandkids, reminds me of my mom in many, many ways.

Her advice? Bite him. Yes, you heard me right, bite him. As I tried to scrape my jaw off the sidewalk, she told me this fascinating anecdote about raising her kids and how when they’d hit or kick, she’d just reach over and give them a little nip on the arm, like a dog. They’ll stop right away, she said, laughing and cooing at Adorablepants who was staring at her in horror.

In the early months when Mr. Adorablepants was colicky and attempting to set the world record for straight hours of screaming, I called my mother to see what I should do. Her advice? Rum. Yes, she advised rum. A little sip of rum will quiet the baby right down. I shouldn’t knock it, not like I haven’t heard the drunken baby solution before – the advice is the same the world over, it just seems to depend on your geographical location as to what flavor of alcohol. My husband’s Russian/Jewish family advised Vodka for the same purpose. I’m not sure where my mom got Rum; it doesn’t seem like a particularly Scottish brew….

Not the actual Adorablepants - he's more of a Guiness kind of guy

The Scottish seem to have a more free-range approach to child raising. It makes sense when I think of my childhood. I grew up in the mountains, and my sister and I would literally run in the woods from sun up till it was cold and dark outside. The other day Mr. Adorablepants made a beeline down our driveway and was headed straight for the middle of the street where a giant, filthy mud puddle was beckoning him. I yanked him back to safety before he made the asphalt. My Scottish neighbor shook her head at me in a way that said ‘oh you poor dumb girl’ and said, “You young women are so over worried, how’s he ever going to learn?” Learn what? What it’s like to get hit by a car? Or what it feels like to contract malaria from puddle water?

In terms of crafts I fail at mommyblogging as well. For Christmas this year I decided that because we are chronically cash-strapped, that Mr. Adorablepants and myself were going to make the presents for his grandparents. Mr. Adorablepants happens to be a champion finger painter; he’s like Jackson Pollack with a dash of Picasso with just a taste of Magritte – a genius. Anyhow, I decided that Adorablepants would paint the canvases and I would make frames for them and tada! Presents.

Disclaimer: Not the actual Adorablepants, all stunts were perfomed by a stand-in

Personally, I thought they turned out pretty darn all right. Downright okay. The reviews I got from the grandparents were this: “It was so creative, really, unlike anything else we’ve ever seen….” In my experience describing something as ‘creative’ is a euphemism for ‘ugly and weird’.

So there ya go folks, this is my one and only mommyblog. No product endorsements included and no usable advice either – please, for the love of all things holy, don’t use the Scottish parenting advice.

But here’s a few mommyblogs I would recommend:

http://sarcasticmom.com/

http://undomesticdiva.typepad.com/

www.redbrownblondeandbald.com

So read away, and stay away from the Rum.