Diary of a Wimpy Mommy - A Guest Post from Merima Trako

Hello, friends! Over the next few weeks, I am away for my wedding and honeymoon, so I've invited some of my favorite writers to keep you entertained in my absence! Enjoy!! 

I am a mother of two boys. They are healthy and happy, cute and smart, which is probably the most dangerous combination you can have. Many would say that I am lucky, which I am, but what they don’t know is the shenanigans that can come out of the two little monsters I brought into this world.

Case in point, last year when my older was six and younger four, my husband texted me a picture of the older with a massive cut on his lower lip. I was at work, and as every mother would, I panicked. I packed up quickly and rushed home. By the time I got home, the bleeding had stopped, and I managed to pull the wound together with two small band-aids to help it heal without too much scarring. I gave my son a hug, and I asked him what had happened. He told me how he and his brother had found a bungee cord in the garage and they were pulling at its ends on a hill behind our house. At one moment my four-year-old let his end go, and it rebounded to hit the six-year-old on the lip. After a lecture that they should not be playing with adult things, I asked my son what he’d learned from the experience. He said with a solemn look on his face: “ I learned that I should let go of the bungee cord, FIRST.” Not what I had in mind little buddy, not-at-all.

There were other incidents like this, mainly two of them trying somehow to hurt each other, unintentionally and mostly due to some not-so-smart decisions they both made. I am sometimes surprised how they both managed to stay in one piece.  

Another important thing to remember is that little kids will not hesitate to embarrass you in public.  Recently I went to the store with my now five-year-old. I bought a cake for my birthday and two candles (numbers 2 and 5). It was supposed to be a joke ( I am not 25 years old, but a decade older). The cashier scanned the cake and asked if it was my birthday. I said with a grin, “But of course, I am twenty-five, can’t you tell?” I was happy with my little quip. My little one turned and pronounced aloud so that the entire store (and maybe even people in the parking lot) could hear that I am certainly not twenty-five, but thirty (something) years old. We all laughed, some shoppers looked at me suspiciously, though, judging this deceit of cake candles.

So having two kids taught me to always be on a lookout for an object that could potentially become a dangerous toy. I don’t understand this notion that kids nowadays have no imagination. Mine have too much of it, they will think of all sorts of ways to use the most innocent inanimate objects as torture devices on each other.

I’ve also learned that my kids are not my friends. I cannot tell them any secrets, even the simplest ones, like my age. They will tell everyone. They’re the worst friends ever. If I were in high school, I would not invite them to my birthday party.

You also cannot say to your kids that you love them, they will use it against you. “But mommy, you cannot punish me, you love me.” They have no shame, these little monsters.

They are little divas. They want specific haircuts; shirts tucked in a certain way and pants of only one certain length. Girls are divas you say, well, you have not met my boys.

In a few years if you meet me on the street and I am muttering to myself about dirty socks, and muddy shoes and the smell of dirty feet and soccer uniforms, do look kindly on my disheveled mom-look and remember: I am raising two boy-monsters.


World According to Blam is a collection of opinions, poetry and short prose, written by Merima Trako. She lives in Connecticut, USA with her husband and two children. An Engineer, a mom, an ex-refugee, Bosnian, she views the world in a unique way, exposed to various settings and experiences in her life.




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