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Last night, I read a mom blog, in a hazy act of vaguely-guided web surfing. The mom had posted pictures of funky trolls and elves crafted out of clothespins. The clothespin dolls represented the best of motherhood to me: hand-sewn clothing made out of old worn pants creating magical, fully-realized creatures that weren’t gendered or packaged or perfect.
“I’m going to try this tomorrow after school with my kids,” I thought, already feeling good about this tantalizing, green-friendly activity.
But the afternoon went quite differently.
My four-year-old son is having yogurt before we head out to pick up my daughter from Grade One. He is unhappy with the amount in his bowl, observes there is more in the container and summarily demands more. I cheerily reply that we will save the rest for his sister.
“NO! I want ALL the yogurt, or I’m not walking to school,” he says, scowling and defiantly crossing his arms.
We leave 15 minutes later, dragging, kicking and screaming to the school while he spits on the sidewalk, yells at the top of his lungs and hangs like a deadweight at the end of my arm.
After our return, I spend the next hour coddling my son in an attempt to resurrect my vision of the afternoon’s activity. My attentions to him wear thin on my older daughter, and she begins to needle him, which sets him off into another rage, alternating between heavy wailing and yelling, “Stupid.” He jumps to get her, probably to bite or spit, and my cuddling turns to active restraint. After some time, I manage to get them to sit on either side of me, without trying to maul each other.
And so, as it closes in on dinner-making time, I reflect on my afternoon’s accomplishment -- sitting on the sofa barely maintaining detente. The unrealized clothespin characters lay on the dining table, untouched and languid.
The best of motherhood indeed.
Laurie Davidson is a writer, mother and librarian. She lives in Vancouver with her partner and two children. Her passion for writing was rekindled when she took a course with The Momoir Project.
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