Sunday, June 11, 2006

I'd better start saving for bail money.

When you're expecting a child, you sit around and daydream about what that child might one day become. Beautiful? Talented? Successful? Kind? Famous? Generous?

A writer? An architect? A scientist? A doctor? The president?

A lover of animals? A good friend? A sympathetic listener? A devoted spouse? A dedicated parent?

You know it's possible for your unborn child to become any of these things, but you gamely promise yourself that you'll love that child even if he or she becomes none of those things. You hope for the best, naturally, but secretly you also pray you have what it takes to love unconditionally even if your baby grows up to be a bit of a disappointment to you as an adult.

I have reached that crossroad in my life as a mother.

Jake had a lot of promise; he really did. He was cheerful and sweet, a quick learner, a big hugger. He rarely cried. He reached all the baby milestones at the appropriate times: Turning over, sitting up, crawling, walking, talking, etc. People told us on a regular basis how charming and adorable he was. And he was fun to be with. Looking back, it's impossible to pinpoint when things started to change, when Jake started to turn bad.

Maybe an outsider could have seen the signs, but I, as his mother, lived with him every day and must have simply missed the subtle changes. Isn't it funny how the closer you are to a situation, the harder it is for you to see it clearly? I wonder now if my friends and acquaintances were talking behind our backs, whispering that Jake was turning into a problem child, that it was a shame we weren't better able to guide him and keep him on track. Why didn't they speak up? What kind of friends are these, to sit back and watch us wander off into peril, rather than reaching out to help yank us back to safety?

But it's silly for me to sit here and place blame. I know that, after all, I'm his mother, and it was my job to guide Jake and help him become the best person he could be. If I'm going to point fingers, I should point at myself, because I'm the one who failed here.

And I know that I should love him unconditionally, but there are things I can't accept. I can't condone drinking and driving, for instance. It's irresponsible, it's dangerous, it's reckless. Yet Jake won't listen to me. In these photos you can clearly see he's behaving like a rabid frat boy, yet he's still in his jammies, barefoot, because it's barely 8 AM. What kind of person is this?

Half an hour later, he's so loaded he barely looks human anymore. And nothing I can say or do will slow him down when he's in this state. He's like Nicolas Cage in Leaving Las Vegas. Except that he's wearing jammies with cartoon dump trucks on them.

What would you do? Take his car away? Sounds like a good plan, since he's clearly not inclined to operate it in a responsible manner, and since he's demonstrated that he's not deserving of the privilege. Yet, when I tried that, I discovered it only encouraged him to commit even more heinous crimes, since he's more than willing to steal a car, even willing to hurt the owner of the car in the process.

I never expected motherhood to be easy, and I don't want to turn this blog into a "poor me" rant about how hard my life is. But I'm reaching out to you. What can I do to stop this little monster from ending up on the FBI's "Most Wanted Toddlers" list?

42 comments:

jackt said...

Yes, a bad seed. A bad seed indeed. ;)

Mighty Dyckerson said...

May I recommend a Scared Straight program for your offspring? Take him to a high security prison and make him spend a day with the cons. That'll learn 'im!

Lyvvie said...

Be happy he doens't run around holding his dinkle. imagine that shot, drink in one hand, dinkle in the other....well at least he'd not be able to drive.

He's awful cute. He's changed so much since you stuffed him into the dryer.

Crazy MomCat said...

My God. You must do something NOW before it is TOO late. Fisher Price mobiles today, Mustangs and F150s tomorrow!

Masked Mom said...

Not sure what you can do, but I'm sure we'll all be highly entertained along the way and willing to chip in on the bail money as thanks for the hilariousness. (Yeah, that's a word.)

Anne Glamore said...

You can't do a thing about it. Give up now, and go make yourself a gin and tonic.

CommonWombat said...

Fuck Elmo. Anyone driving around a shitty dangerous location like your living room with his doors unlocked deserves whatever he gets. I hope Jake rolled him for pocket change before he peeled off. Dumb fucking muppet.

Sunflowerfairy said...

It stems from all his panty eating days.

Sorry, there's nothing you can do.

Better luck with the next kid.

Jodi said...

have you considered investing in a club? Do they even make those for tiny tot cars? I don't know. HEY! There's an idea, invent the club for Tiny Tot cars and you'd make a mint.
you're welcome!

Lena said...

He definitely has that "morning after" look. I assume the chick he took advantage of the night before is out of camera range?

And the Elmo jacking. Oh, Karla. The laughter...it...hurts.

Mel & Seigo said...

Lovin how Elmo got tossed to the curb... :)

Gecko Bloggle said...

Just start saying this to yourself over and over (or better yet - get your neighbours sayin' it):

"He was quiet, pretty much kept to himself, never expected him to do anything like this..."

tfg said...

You should have known when he started beerbonging the milk and smoking his cookies. Regardless, it looks like Jake has a bright future in the Republican party.

Mr. Fabulous said...

Are you sure Damien wouldn't be a better name for him?

lil'bitty said...

So, ummm, I kinda like the naughty boys. Maybe you could see what Jake is going to be doing in about 20 years (as long as he is out of prison at the time) and we can hook up.

Antonio said...

I suggest locking him in a closet until he's a teenager. That way he'll can't carjack stuffed animals plus he'll develop a wacky, diverse group of imaginary friends eager to kill you.

What? It's perfectly normal. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cut myself.

melissa.in.london said...

I love the look on his face post-throwing Elmo out of the car. Priceless, right there.

Duct tape is my suggestion to prevent him from further transgressions. A lot of duct tape. And a good, sturdy chair.

Margaret said...

At least he's not some wussy, moma's boy.

Nocturnal said...

Drinking and driving at such a young age... yep, he's going 2B a rock star.

When you see the money you pay him for rent money in college going to guitars, you'll know the score.

Cheers

JaeFox said...

You had better get control of him like now, before someone drops a 500 lb. enema on him.

It's happened.

OldHorsetailSnake said...

Karla: This is simple. Distract him by throwing him out the window. He may forget all about cars -- and everything else.

Stacie said...

It may be too late for him...save yourself and have him legally imancipated before you end up responsible for any legal fees he may incur. Stacie

Neil said...

It's your fault for not playing "Mozart for Babies" when he was in the womb.

Jessica said...

Send him to live with Wombat for a few days....that should straighten him right up!

justacoolcat said...

The best thing you can do is to remain uncaptured. So long as you and your many aliases consume the list there's no way the FBI will waste their time on small potatoes.

Ken said...

I think you may be safe. It's the rule of opposites. My sister was an angel when she was a little child. Then of course we started having to get her out of jail as soon as she grew up. Keep your fingers crossed since bail isnt exactly cheap. LOL

karen! said...

You are so hillarious! I don't know how you come up with this crack-me-up stuff!
If you ever move your blog, do tell me about it!

Kell said...

A lost cause Im afraid. Pack him off to brat camp and get busy trying for another kid.

the belligerent intellectual said...

You know what? Elmo deserves that shit. You're asking for it by driving around a car that nice with that smug smile on your face.

Karla said...

I think he learned it from you.

CommonWombat said...

Yes, by all means send him to live with me. One month with me and I promice Jake will give up his hard-drinking life of crime and henceforth be a kind, gentle and thoughtful human being.

Of course, he will also eat his own boogers, rub his nuts all over everything and be able to fart the national anthem. Life is full of little trade-offs.

CommonWombat said...

He will also not know how to spell "promise." Hmmm.

a fish on a bycicle said...

Maybe it's post traumatic stress, dating back to sitting the poor little sod in that bloody great boiling pan?

The Jamoker said...

just think...all the really skanky chicks will love him...

so, he's got that goin' for him...

Maja said...

Oh my god, look how much he's grown since I was last here! It's insane how quickly they grow up.

Needtsza said...

born on 6-6-6?

Cute kid. Reminded me of my cat, Jake.
"He was such a good animal, then he turned bad"

Chief Slacker said...

Oh poor elmo! the horro! :O)

Christi said...

If it makes you feel any better, my son did all of that, and now he prefers to sleep in boxes as opposed to his bed. It seems he wants to be a homeless person one day. I just don't get it. He even sets up little homes in them and spends his days in them, only coming out to eat and have "accidents" on the floor. It only gets better my dear...only gets better...

Amanda said...

poor elmo! face down on the carpet, i think is see some of his stuffing bleeding out.

truly hilarious.

Caryn said...

You know, it might not be your fault. It probably is, but it could just be genetics. Don't blame yourself until you know for certain.

Carbon said...

You know, my daughter and your son could be big trouble together. Bonny and Clyde comes to mind. Maybe it's good that we don't live in the same country ;-)

Chief Scientist said...

It could be worse. I was a black sheep BECAUSE I was a scientist.