My name is Carol and I am an enabler. That’s right. I do things for my kids who are now old enough that they could easily do most everything themselves. I am not proud of my actions including:
- Driving my son and his friends to the mall– even though there’s a bus that goes from the bottom of our street directly there.
- Making snacks and delivering them to the television room so my sprog won’t have to interrupt his game of Halo 3.
- Making paper bag book covers for school books because I can do it faster and better than the anyone else. Okay, I am showing off – but it’s my only skill.
- Buying the crickets and feeding the gecko – even though Lewis promised he would take care of it – because if I didn’t, the gecko would be long dead.
- Untieing massive knots in shoelaces because I “have fingernails.”
- Making special trips to the drug store to buy items that my daughter is too embarrassed to purchase herself (like Jolene cream bleach).
- Spending precious minutes of my morning searching for Lewis’s sneakers… until he remembers that he left them at a friend’s house.
- Dropping off lunch money and homework at school when they’ve been forgotten in the morning fray.
But my worst offense was during my daughter’s first semester at college. She was having a rough transition – complete with the tearful phone calls in the middle of the night. So when she called and complained that she wanted to do her laundry, but had no quarters for washers in her dorm I didn’t hesitate. I sent – no, I overnighted – ten dollars worth of quarters to her. The postage was $17.95. There.
The first step to recovery is acknowledging that you need help.
I feel better now. 
Jake get his eyebrow pierced is a good alternative to reading the books that are on the high school Honors English summer reading list.”
As I drove by, I thought “Somebody definitely needs to wake up on Christmas morning with this dog on their front lawn.” So, I turned around (even though my gums were still sore and I had to pee) and rescued the stuffed beast from the trash. He barely fit in my trunk.
Granted, we are only half-Jewish (although I really hate that term) so I guess if we light the candles tonight, we will be right on target.
Anyone who has ever diapered a newborn knows that long nails and poopie diapers go together like….fourteen kids and a media circus. And, while the public wonders how an unemployed, single mom will be able to support fourteen children (who will inevitably have some special needs) Nadya Suleman has faith in the volunteers from her church and in America’s insatiable appetite for reality television — no matter how unreal it seems.
- but here in suburban Massachusetts, February vacation seems like an evil plot by the Board of Education to test the limits of a mother’s sanity. I mean ten days without school in the middle of February? C’mon.
When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed that my son’s skis, three paper cups from Starbucks, a banana peel, two pairs of ice skates and some skanky soccer stuff was in the backseat. So, like a pack-mule, I made several trips from the car to the house. Then I made myself a cup of tea, sat down at the kitchen table to take a stab at the Sunday crossword puzzle and remembered about the crickets.
Honestly, when she dished out the food, I wondered if I had come on the wrong day. Now, I understand that maintaining a healthy weight is all about portion control. Still, if you are going to invite someone for lunch, for gawdsakes, feed them. Although, I have to admit that when I left her house, I was feeling a little righteous for not pigging out at lunch. But I was starving.
od.” He moped around the kitchen table, kinda ate part of a bagel and laid his head on the kitchen table. “Ooooooughh.”
But today, I simply said “Okay, stay home.” Lewis went back to bed. Maybe he really needs the rest – after all he’s a growing boy. It’s hardly seems possible that he’s a teenager. In fact, it seems like he was born yesterday. Who knows, maybe after he wakes up, I can cure his Spring Fever by making him mow the lawn.
