Devonne Brown

My son is judging me. If he were to give me a report card it would be 

how long do I stay awake when I come home from school, 

how much time do I spend writing, 

how often and well do I cook for him, 

how clean do I keep my room,

how clean do I keep my house,

how well do I stay in and out of his business…which include the subcategories of nagging and praising,

nagging

praising

If I make a pot of coffee when I get home from school, I’m  decent company all evening long. Unless he’s taken the car to visit his girlfriend, Miss Wolfe, a teacher here at my school, he’s jolly good company. We’re quite compatible. But I fade by 7:00 and he takes pictures of me falling sideways in my chair asleep, sends them to his brother where he distorts and misshapes me with photoshop to make me look really terrible. They think it’s funny to goof on my. I get a “C.” in staying awake after school.

I get and “A” on spending time writing. I write in the mornings before school, and after school with a friend on zoom. I work on a novel that’s kind of terrible, but for my first one, I give it grace and am pleased with my current 19000 word count. It’s about sisters being mean to each other basically.

I get a “C” cooking for him. As soon as I walk in the door, I either cook or bring something home with me from somewhere. Sometimes, I trick him into putting stuff into a crockpot with stuff in it. Sometimes I make him drink powder shakes and eat veggies before his classes in Huntington and have dinner when he gets home. I’m a terrible mother on those days. C’est la vie.

I fluctuate from “A” to “D” on keeping my room clean. I get a “D” today. I didn’t make my bed. Shoes are all over the floor. It needs dusting, stuff’s all over the dresser, and clothing’s draped over anything it can be draped over. I go to my room as few times a day as possible. I wake and sleep there. It isn’t on my priority list right now.

The house gets a “B” today. Ian’s cleaning so he can use the car to leave me homebound so he can see his girlfriend. He doesn’t dust. His idea of cleaning is vacuuming and picking up his room. He doesn’t clean the kitchen or the toilet or bathroom sink without explicit instructions. They just are not on his “to do” list. They will be today, along with painting the iron table and chairs on the porch black. He asked for these chores, he gets them. 

I get an “A” on the balance of his business I stay in and out of. That includes nagging and praising. I only nag when he does something really stupid and he needs to know about it, which is rare. I can’t think of the last time he did something worth nagging about. But when I did, he was so apologetic and hurt, he called me at school to make sure I wasn’t still mad at him. I’ve always operated on praise with my boys. 

I ask him to tell me when I’m too much in his face and when he needs space, and he lets me know. We have room and the places to get away from each other. Most of the time, we know how and when to get away from each other easily. 

Other parts of my life, like school or my social life I need much more work in. There’s more to my home life I could be rated on, but we don’t need to go there, do we?