You know how sometimes your child asks you to download something she hears on the radio and you are so pleased with yourself because not only did you download it, but you also figured out how to get it onto her ipod without having to ask anyone for help and then you play the song as loudly as it will go in front of all three of your children and several of their friends but then you realize that that Drake song’s lyrics are not exactly the same as they are on the radio and instead of downloading the child-friendly “you the, you the best” version you have downloaded the version that says “you the f-ing best” only the actual f-word is used too many times before you can shut off the stupid ipod?

NO?

Oh. Me neither.

(Dammit, Drake. Poor wheelchaired Jimmy on Degrassi never would have pulled that crap.)

Clearly, I am likely to be nominated for Parent of the Year 2010. And, you know, honestly, I have never been nominated for anything, so I may actually welcome the honor. I will put on my very best Sally Field-like You like me, right now, you like me! and I will bask in the glow of victory

until, of course, I realize that this is not really a victory.

…and while we are on the superb parenting topic, can someone please explain to me why in the heck can’t I be one of those moms who enjoys sitting and making flowers out of tissue paper and who plans out every hour of the weekend into crafty-like segments where we make shrinky-dink bracelets and friendship anklets and homemade chocolate chip cookies??

Seriously. I love to spend time with my kids. I really do. I love to take them to museums and the Royal Winter Fair and even the mother-effing zoo. It’s at home when I really just can’t figure out how to entertain them. When does the “MOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMY, I’m bored. What can I do? Tell me what to do? Can we do a craft? Pretty please! Can we bake cupcakes? Can we paint-by-number?” stop? Like, for real, when does this stop? I mean, as it is, I spend at least 75% of my day getting drinks and snacks for my children.  Am I really required to be an arts and crafts teacher for the other 25%? I kind of hate crafts. And, you know, no matter what, I’m the one who ends up having to figure out how the stupid loom works and making the friendship bracelet because the stitch is too difficult and don’t get me started on the time we tried to do the bloody origami. Also, I am always missing something important like glue. It’s always glue. There never seems to be any. Also, when I bake with my children, I have to share the dough and the batter…and I don’t really like to share anything, but I REALLY don’t like to share cookie dough.

So, I think, I am brilliant, I will make playdates for them and then no one will need me! They will play together and I won’t have to know anything about beyblades and I won’t have to learn dances because, lo, they will be able to do that together. Only when they have friends over, it’s just worse, because not only do I have to deal with the two of my children who are feeling left out of the playdate…but now I have TWO children begging me to play with them, and one of them doesn’t even share my DNA.

Now that I think about it…you know who the REAL brilliant parents are? The ones sending their children to play at MY HOUSE.

How do I get to be one of those???

What about you? Done anything Parent-of-the-Year-Award-Worthy lately?