Dubbing The Dabbing
This is the “you’re showing your Mommy Moment again” look. Usually accompanied with a sigh.
Kids are great, they say the funniest things while learning how to navigate around language and social norms. The innocence of their errors is what makes it so amusing, and we get to make fun of them and it’s okay. As parents we all celebrate the openness and truth of children, and as a writer, I have taken advantage of this more than most.
So I knew this day would come, the day I would say something wrong (and I’m going to add, totally cute) instead of my child. Yes, my Mommy Moment* happened much sooner than anticipated.
“Mommy Moment: saying something not cool. This is an evolving definition, soon to morph into: saying anything at all.”
While trying to journey through the “new slang” the kids are saying “these days” (I know, I am sounding less and less cool as I continue), I stumbled and was immediately corrected by my eight year-old teacher of all-things-not-cool.
Now, I’m no Cam Newton, but in the middle of what I’m sure was a very stimulating conversation with my third grader, to make my point, I threw my bent elbow in the air and shouted, “Dub!” (Why did I even say that?!?)
I was obviously wrong in my attempt to be cool or talk like anyone considered to be cool, and it was immediately pointed out to me with nonverbal falling-on-the-floor laughter intertwined with DABBING! My action was later described by my 52 inch professor of cool as “cringe worthy.”
*Mommy Moment: saying something not cool. This is an evolving definition, soon to morph into: saying anything at all.
Fore Warned
I feel a little bit robbed.
I apparently have an abnormality, which I was not made aware of until recently. I possess something so large, I was told to hide my monstrosity, before anyone of importance could see it. Why wasn’t I alerted to this previously? I have lived day in and day out for years without even thinking about it, but apparently it is so severe, it has interfered with my work. And now that it has been pointed out to me, my obsession over it is repeatedly hitting me head on.
Maybe I should consider it the opposite of an obstacle, maybe an endowment … it’s said that bigger is better. Right? What I feel like is the better part of a fool, one who so unknowingly and prominently has been displaying this freak of nature, like it was a natural occurrence.
My ignorance of this anomaly I have, has been taken from me and I want it back.
So, if you catch me staring at your forehead, forgive me, I’m not judging you, I’m judging me.
A Mom’s Teary Plea for Her Baby’s Health
As moms, there’s a certain time when it just doesn’t matter where our beliefs lie on the political spectrum. That time is when our children’s lives are at stake. If our kids are threatened or endangered, we go full Mama Bear, because our job—a job that we take very, very seriously and are very, very good at, by the way—is to keep our babies safe.
The American Health Care Act was recently passed by the House and is now headed to the Senate. If passed, it would mean huge changes to how our families’ health is cared for. No one would be exempt from those changes, and those of us with preexisting conditions are feeling especially adrift. A friend of ours is so horrified by what the changes would mean to her 3-year-old daughter’s future, she was moved to write this letter—and, through our tears, we are privileged to share it.
I was extremely disappointed to hear the news that U.S. House of Representatives has passed…
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Carmelina Hart 