Thursday, September 08, 2005

How I learned to stop worrying and love the Bug

Am I the only one who is unreasonably intimidated not by other mothers, necessarily, but by the thought that other mothers are judging me and finding me lacking? I know I've mentioned this before, but it just gets weirder and weirder. Help me out with your pseudo-psychological theories and win a prize. Okay, well, that's a lie. Win nothing, but do it anyway.

Despite having (probably typical) moments of guilt over my less-bright parenting moments, I generally do believe that I'm doing the best job that I can with the kids, and that I'm not doing anything horribly wrong. Not so you'd pass out from horror if you witnessed my parenting in action, you know? And I'm not particularly shy about meeting people, or insecure, or in need of validation--I have good friends, both near and far, and I don't feel the need for everyone to like me or to be the most popular or anything like that. And despite the Boy's behavioral challenges, I think he's a sweet kid. I don't think he comes across as a little monster or anything--he says please and thank you, he often shows kindness, he feeds his cat, he plays with Legos, you know.

So why do I feel the laser beam of Mommy Drive Bys just waiting to fire upon me? Why do I imagine that other mothers are thinking all sorts of nasty thoughts about me and planning ways to avoid me? What is my problem?? Sheesh.

And on a totally different and less self-absorbed note (thank heavens), the Boy's first grade teacher KICKS ASS. This is the teacher that he was switched to at the last minute, sending me into one of my infamous Complete Bitch Breakdowns, but oh, has it ever turned out to be wonderful. Do you know what she did on Friday? He found a cricket in the classroom, and he wanted to keep it, so she helped him catch it and poke holes in a plastic bag so he could take it home. Now, I have always had the icks over crickets, but this was just such a cool thing for his teacher to do, and he was so excited--you should've seen him!--that I was immediately and completely cured. Thirty-seven years of cricket hating, poof!

We looked up crickets on the Internet and built his new pet, Cookie, a nice little cricket home in a jar turned on its side. We put in some sand, rocks to hide under, a nice little twisty stick, a damp sponge, and some bits of bread and apple. I closed the opening with some fine green netting I had lying around (it had been a ribbon on a gift) and screwed on the jar ring. Things to know about crickets:
  • Only the males make noise.
  • Cookie wasn't a male.
  • Cookie was, however, smart enough to figure out how to chew through the netting.

Good thing about that New Love For Crickets I've got goin' on.