Available for Adoption

 

Recently, I have started to think that my parents, specifically my mother, aren’t up for the job of being my parents any longer. As a result, I am putting myself up for adoption.

It all began when I asked my mom if she would consider coming to New York City to visit me. I haven’t seen my parents since Christmas — I know, it has only been 3 months, but it feels like a long time to this homebody.  My work/life schedule has been pretty busy and is only going to get busier of the next couple of months, so I thought inviting her for a long weekend of mother-daughter bonding in the big apple would be a great idea since I probably won’t be getting home anytime soon. However, when I mentioned it to her, she didn’t seem very enthused about the idea – saying something about not knowing her work schedule and whether or not they (meaning her and my dad) had any upcoming plans. I told her that I would really like to see her (and my dad if he could get away from work) and left it at that. I thought I was pretty clear.

A few days later when I was chatting with my sister on the phone she mentioned something about how mom and dad were going to visit her the last week in April. I practically dropped the phone and fell over in the street. I immediately hung up and called my mom.

I questioned her out on their upcoming trip to see their beloved daughter – who was not me! I could hear my mom’s guilt coming through my iPhone headphones but I didn’t care. Why hadn’t she mentioned this trip to me earlier? And why had they chosen to visit Abby over me? Just because I am married doesn’t mean I don’t need my parents. Angry and hurt I hung up the phone with my mom and called Matt to complain. He wasn’t very sympathetic, but I do think he would have enjoyed a visit from my parents as well, at least to take the burden of “dealing with me” off his hands for a weekend.

Since this information was leaked, I have done nothing except make my parents, particularly my mother, feel guilty about this blatant display of offspring favoritism. I thought for sure she would put a visit to NYC on the calendar just to get me to be quiet. I am shocked and disappointed to report, that has yet to happen.

And today – it got worse (I know, I didn’t think it could either!) During my 15 minute walk to the subway this morning, I called my mother to have our daily morning chat. Thankfully, she answered the phone, which has become a rarity lately. She mentioned that she couldn’t chat long because she was meeting a friend at Panera. Most people know that Panera is my favorite suburban restaurant. As a former employee I hold this establishment in the highest regards. Whenever I am home, I make sure to squeeze in at least one trip to the mecca of the lunchtime soup and sandwich combo – usually with my mom. So for her to partake in this ritual with someone else – well I would be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. At least it was with a friend and not my arch nemesis sister.

She was meeting a friend to strategize about an upcoming political fundraiser that she is throwing for someone running for Executive Counsel in NH (man I love local politics!). When I probed her about the event, it became painfully obvious that she needed my fundraising/event expertise. When I offered to review her invitation she seemed more annoyed than elated. Hmm – maybe she is forgetting that I work for a non-profit that throws THE most successful fundraising event – ever/period/hands down. Oh, and did I mention that since I am now on the communications team, me, Molly Brethauer – her daughter, is often the copy writer for our invitations/programs/newsletter/every form of communication that we produce (ok, so maybe that is an exaggeration, but what parent doesn’t embellish how important their children are?) Even after pointing out that these facts to her, I still had to practically beg her to let me help.

So that’s it — I am taking a stand and I am officially accepting applications for my adoption. Requirements for my future parents include (but are not limited to):

1. Frequent visits to see me
2. 24/7 phone availability
3. Weekly care packages (these can contain things like homemade cookies, interesting articles from the local town newspaper, and/or fun things from the dollar section at target)
4. Sympathy when I don’t feel well
5. A deeper and more genuine love for me than for my sister
6. Constant praise and adoration

What you will get in return:

Joy and pride for all of eternity (and I am certain that your friends will be insanely jealous at your incredible parenting skills — obviously they are amazing if you were able to produce me.)

My husband will be screening all applications. You will only be contacted if I think you are up for the job.

Thank you.

 

 

My Deprived Childhood

Growing up I spent my weekends at soccer games, hanging out at the Bedford Bluffs (our swim and tennis club), at swim meets and skiing up in Maine at Sugarloaf Mountain. My parents kept Abby and I busy and I never felt like I had really missed out on anything in my childhood.

That is, until now.

Right now I am sitting in my apartment watching tv. Here are some of the comments from the show I am watching that have made it painfully obvious that I missed out on a lot growing up.

“We started spray tanning her when she was 11 months old.”I am sad to report that I got my first spray tan ever THIS year. I missed out on 27 years of bronzed skin.

 

“Popular kids aren’t ugly. The kids that are pretty get recognized sooner. You know, like in red rover, red rover. Well I want her to be my girlfriend, so I am going to call her to be on my team. It is nothing that I can change – it is just the way of the world.”
I thought that you just had to run fast to be good at Red Rover… wish I knew you just had to be pretty. It would have saved me a lot of effort.

 

“I get my groove on, get my pedicure on, get my twinkle toes shined up” (this was said by a father)
My father has never gotten a pedicure with me. No wonder we have such a strained father-daughter relationship.

 

 

“Do you want sparkle baby eyes?”
Umm, yes! I don’t even know what those are but I know that I want them. If only I had been asked…

 

“She didn’t do so good… Maybe everyone else will just mess up really bad and then we’ll be good.”
Now I am not sure about this one. I know my parents certainly supported me, especially in swimming. So maybe my parents did say this after I competed in my swim races. I can only hope!

 

“The screaming and the hitting… I don’t really get embarrassed when my daughter does it only because she is still little and it is still kinda cutesy when she does it… She does it to show the other kids and the moms that she is dominant.”
My parents told me that yelling at them, screaming and hitting wasn’t appropriate. And so ended my world domination.

 

So thank you Toddlers & Tiaras for making it painfully obviously that I had a deprived childhood. Mom and Dad, I think you have a lot to make up for… and I will start with unlimited spray tans for the next 10 years.