My Kids Are Annoying Me

Please tell me I am not the only mother being driven crazy by her own kids.

Mama, mama, did you see my drawing, mama? 
Do you like it, mama?
Mama, mama, I made my own bed, come see, mama.
Mama, mama, I ate all of my lunch.  Isn't that good mama?
Mama mama mama mama....

It's enough to make me want to change my name to...Dada.

This summer, my son has decided that he is going to call me mama.  And he is going to call me that twice at the beginning of each sentence, and once at the end.  Basically, the format is:
"Mama. mama (insert need for approval) Mama." 

Then there's the food.  His favorite used to be grilled chicken.  Suddenly, he deems it "gross."  He used to eat watermelon.  Now it's too wet for him.  He used to like cheese sticks.  Now, only fine French cheese will do.  He's even turning down most types of cookies.  Can you say "control issue?" Meal time has become a game of Russian Roulette -- and I'm the one with the gun at my head.

For nine years, he more or less ate what was put in front of him (minus several long-established fruits and vegetables) and called me Mom.  Why the sudden change?  I don't know.  I think it's because he is very aware that he has crossed the line into "big kid-hood" and is ambivalent about it.  Because along with the sudden infantile "mama mama" business, is the sudden pre-adolescent covering up of private parts, embarrassment at being kissed by his mother in front of his friends, and constant, intense interest in his hair.

I know I should be compassionate.  He is going through a transitional time and is working out how to balance his desire to grow up with his desire to -- let's put it bluntly - crawl back into my uterus and never come out.  Outwardly, I am compassionate.  I smile and nod my approval.  I spend lots of time doing things alone with him.  Doing things I don't even particularly enjoy, like playing ping pong, and fishing, and learning about Pokemon -- which is impossible for anyone over the age of eleven. Outwardly, I am understanding and smiling, and spending an incredible amount of time reassuring him that I am there for him.

Inwardly, however, I am screaming "shut up shut up shut up!!!"

It doesn't help that the Mama business  and the food insanity is accompanied by physical clinginess so bad that I have twice (twice!) quite literally tripped over him when I didn't realize he was behind me.  Or that his twin sister has chosen this summer to become fluent in whine-ese (we're so proud!), while simultaneously wanting to be with me ALL THE TIME.

Long ago, I reconciled myself to the fact that not all kids are created equally likable.  Kids are people too, and certain among them just rub me the wrong way.  Call me evil, if you like.  But I just call it human.  But I am having a harder time reconciling being so annoyed at my own kids. Aren't I supposed to love everything about them?  Aren't I supposed to feel nothing but sympathy for my son's obvious need for approval and struggles with growing up? Or my daughter's dissatisfaction with her tennis-playing, camp-going, body-surfing summer?

Instead, I'm cringing every time the Mama Mama speech or whinese begins. I'm feeling desperately in need of some physical space. I'm resenting cooking my son's favorites only to find out he doesn't like them any more.  Instead of being supermom, I'm being decidedly less than super about the whole thing.

Don't get me wrong:  as much as they bug me, I loved them unconditionally, unequivocally, completely.  But sometimes,I ask them if I look like a banana, because they're driving me bananas.  And maybe that's the answer: have a sense of humor about it.  Just like incessant nighttime crying (her), and potty training issues (I won't divulge who), this too, shall pass. 

And I bet I know what comes next:  an adolescent's complete lack of interest in me at all.  And you know what I'll do then?  Miss the Mama Mama, wish I were tripping over them, and wonder how I let it all bug me so much.

Original Post to NYC Moms Blog.

Nancy Rabinowitz-Friedman is a freelance writer whose essay The Torah, The Toothfairy and Me will appear in the forthcoming anthology See Mom Run, due out this fall.  She also blogs at Agelessbody Timeless Mom.com.