I am a single mother in my mid twenties trying to make all the right decisions for my little guy. I like to think I am doing pretty well at this motherhood thing, but who knows. For some unknown reason there is no award show for outstanding parenting achievements, and as many parenting books as there are out there, not a single one can tell me everything I need to know to win Mother of The Year (which should really be a thing).
So, my solution? Fake it. This sounds weird I know, but here’s the deal… I cannot, nor can anyone else plan for every parenting scenario that will occur in my life (or yours) in the next 18 minutes let alone the next 18 years. My short tenure at the ‘School of Mom’ has taught me that there was nothing I could have done to prepare for this gig. This, is why I fake it.
At times I am unsure of myself and of my parenting capabilities (I hope I’m not the only one), so at least once a day I have to fake my confidence in a decision I’ve made regarding Donovan. This usually just consists of me telling myself, “Everything is going to be fine, you haven’t broken him yet!”… Really, the key to parenting that no one ever divulges; ALWAYS act like you know what you’re doing, even if you don’t know what day it is and you probably just put that diaper on backwards.
On to the much more important piece of our deceiving duo. Cute right? Yeah, that’s how he gets you. At the tender age of 6 months this guys was a real thespian. He continues to push the dramatic boundaries whether it be on the playful side; throwing is head back and giving his leg a slap because you’re just that funny, or it could be a fit of rage or bout of devastation; a quick prance in a circle before dropping to the floor and rearing up with a terrible grimace on his face and letting out a labored groan. Either way his acts are always followed by silence and a quick side glance to gauge the reaction from his audience and judge whether or not an encore is necessary.
When the latter is the performance he chooses to put on display, I first bite my lip to control my laughter (because watching a small child belly-flop on the floor then arch into cobra pose is not the easiest thing to ignore), then tell him in a cool tone “Quit faking”. With that he gets up with a puff and finds something better to do.
So that’s us in a nut-shell. Follow along for more acts in this crazy life of ours.