The Orange Spatula

It's become clear to my legion of readers that I am the parent of two adult children. Sometimes I wonder just exactly how we managed to get to this stage in life, but it happened. They just kept growing, no matter what I did right and/or wrong, and somehow figured out how to move out on their own and have a life.

I was not the perfect parent. I was not even close to the perfect parent. I loved (still do) my kids endlessly, but I had the patience of a fly, coupled with two week PMS. I wasn't very self aware, and while I wanted to do the right thing, sometimes I was just selfish and didn't do it very well. I know that I did a lot of cool things with the kids, and I did try to make sure they were relatively well adjusted, given that I was NOT!

I raised my kids as a single mom, their whole life. Their dad and I divorced when they were very young, and though I remarried, the second husband was as much a kid as they were, so I really just added another child, and did not get a parenting partner. So, while I was married for ten years in the middle of their lives, I was still a single parent. I often had to remind Stu that he was a grown up, and that he needed to act like one. That never went over very well, perhaps that's why Stu wigged out and had to go.

Anyway, I so easily get off topic, gotta work on that.....

Parenting. There is no magic formula, and what works for one person may be totally un-doable for another. I have friends that I think are just the best parents, they seem so relaxed and able to take things in stride. One of them is Goody Two Shoes. She's this awesome young mom, who is so patient and seems so downright, down-to-earth, that I feel as if I wanted my kids to be raised by her. Her little Betty is adorable and reflects that calm and peaceful parenting she does. Suffice it to say, I was NOT a calm mother. I'm NOT calm now....I probably should not even appear in a blog post with the word calm...

So when Felicity and Tater Tot were little, they were a real handful. They are only 18 months apart, and it was almost like having twins. My mom always said that "one kids takes all your time, so two can't take more"....right, Mom, sure! These two little bundles of fun and energy always kept me on my toes. The truth is I had no idea how to raise kids. There wasn't an internet to go to and ask, "What do I do when Tater Tot cuts his butt on the ladder outside," so I could make an informed decision. Seriously, it was fly by the seat of your pants time all the time.

I can remember camping, and needing to go to the bathroom, sneaking off in the woods, with my pants at half mast, while Tater Tot shone a flashlight on me to "help out." Or the time when Felicity decided to practice being a mermaid by opening a can of paint in the basement and swimming around. I remember chicken pox in the summer time, filling an old washtub with water and baking soda, and promising the kids ice cream if they's just stop itching! I can remember countless baseball and softball games, yelling for those two (sorry guys, but not totally athletic kids) and helping them feel better after a particularly tough game. There were times when we were so busy that Tater Tot had to put his football uniform on in the backseat of the car (picture that?) while we drove to practice, and then I had to run Felicity to gymnastics. After that, we ate lunch from a cooler on our way home, while the kids worked on homework. Yeah...those.....were.....the.....days......(not that I'd want to do them over).

So what really brought me down memory lane is one of the things that my kids and I have very different memories of. That's the Orange Spatula. Here again, let me point out that I was doing my best, but sometimes it wasn't that good. You see, I didn't like to spank my kids, but sometimes I felt it was necessary (I grew out of that pretty quickly and don't advocate for that now). I found that most of the time I wanted to spank was when I was angry, and that just wasn't a good thing. So, I devised a way to settle down and think about it prior to spanking (or not). So, I had this old orange spatula (pancake turner) that was plastic. I kept it in a drawer in the kitchen (or in my purse for travel purposes) and when I felt the need to spank, I'd walk to the drawer and think about what it was that had been done and whether it was worth a spanking. If it was, my intent was to use the spatula, and lightly administer the punishment.

Here's where the difference of opinion occurs. I swear that I have never spanked my kids with a spatula! I felt, by the time I got to the drawer, I'd gotten over the anger, and could use another means of discipline which would be more effective. I really felt proud of myself for overcoming the spanking. Now that's not to say that I didn't say, on more than one occasions, "Don't make me get the orange spatula out." Which was a great deterrent to future "crime."

My kids will tell you (and they will, just ask them) that they were beaten often and very sternly with said spatula. They say they hid it so I couldn't find it when we moved. They say they specifically remember me spanking them with that spatula and it was the worst time of their lives. Of course they do this with a smile on their faces, and the story become embellished more and more as the years go by.

I suppose, if one were to be objective, it's possible that I did use that implement on them once or twice. I guarantee there were no welts, broken bones, or fractured spirits. In the end they will always believe I was the maniacal, spatula wielding, crazed, PMS Mom, who through some sort of miracle has transformed herself into their friend and advisor...sans spatula.