A Mom Like Me

SunWoo had a tantrum tonight after I vetoed a playdate request. The tantrum led into an argument, which led to him saying many nasty things, including "I wish I didn't have a mom like you."

I am human and stubborn and proud, so I gave him his wish and said he didn't have to have a mom like me tonight and he could take care of his own dinner.

For myself, I cut up some veggies and added it to a frozen pizza, assuming he'd just eat half of that and I'd just quietly allow it because even my rock hard mom heart wouldn't let him starve or whatever.

But instead he stomped around and then drew me a card with a picture of a a sad face and a giant tear drop coming out of the sad face, and the giant tear drop ALSO had a sad face.

"I don't want to read it," I said, peeking inside when he wasn't looking. "I need space."

Then I angry-ate my pizza as he proceeded to get his kid chef knife and a cutting board out and I watched him cut open an avocado, slice it up, and add it to some salami on sourdough bread. He looked at it, and then added a bit of smoked gouda.

"It's a sandwich!" he proudly exclaims, sitting at the table and smiling. I'm staring at him like he's a successful circus act and then I look down at my pizza - suddenly a cowardly, lazy thing.

I don't know why I'm telling you this except to say my dinner was terrible, and SunWoo's was less terrible, and maybe it's because he's an artist, or maybe it's because he's a frickin tiny hipster, or maybe because his resolve is just softer when it has to bend around a mother, because mothers are just mountains disguised as women, at least some days.

I cannot be moved! I wanted to say.

But here I am, eroding all over the place.