SpongeMom Tight Pants

I'm amazed at how my children's moods can taint or enhance my morning. Today, for instance, my son is up on the computer, downloading his Sociology project onto a CD. I hear the mouse clicking. Then I hear it clicking harder...and faster...and finally like a machine gun accompanied by sounds of disgust and anger. He comes downstairs and starts spewing about how the project isn't working and yesterday it wasn't even there and he's got to turn it in today and he's going to get a zero and he's the only one who actually did anything on the project and....AAAARRRGGGHHH. What I wanted to say...what I almost said (but didn't) was: "Why are you just finding this out now? Why are you downloading it onto a CD 5 minutes before you leave for school? Why didn't you do this last night when you had time to fix it? Hello?! You had time to IM your friends, write in your blog, chat with your girlfriend and play drums." But I didn't. I just let it wash over me and soak it in, like the maternal sponge that I am.

This is my job. To take it in until I'm totally saturated and then finally wring it all out (a.k.a. a mother meltdown.) If I did chase after them and get a list of their projects and then nag them, I'd be accused of being totally uptight and that I shouldn't worry. Well, if I don't...WHO WILL???!!! Not them!

OK, I feel better. It's his project, not mine. I won't let it bother me that he might do badly in school and then not get into the college he wants. Oh, who am I kidding?...