Confessions of a Stay at Home Mom

Sisters are built in Best Friends!

They are also built in sibling humility level regulators. They are put on this earth to make sure that we have the perfect balance of fun adventures and I want to crawl under a rock and DIE moments in our formative years, lest we grow up to have ginormous heads and think we are indestructable

And have any form of self esteem.

Oh, I have piles of evidence to back up this theory... and lest you doubt me, I am about to share one such experience.

It wa s 5th grade. You remember that dreaded year: the year of the maturation program....AAAAAAHHHH. Every preteen girls worst nightmare. A whole hour or more of talking about bodily secretions, blossoming bousoms, and the dreaded S word. Uuuuugh. And just to add a cherry to the top of this humiliation sundae... they invite your mother.... who is alternating between putting her arm around you and squeezing more blood into your already bursting at the seems beet red face telling you how proud she is of you, and blubbering uncontrollably because she "can't believe how fast her baby is growing up".

Somebody shoot me. It's already such an awkward age, and it is mortifying to a 5th grader to have their mother address the fact that their body is changing. It's even more mortifying when your body is not changing, and your mother is still blubbering because it's going to happen so soon and that will hail the coming of you leaving her forever... now you know it's all eyes on you watching for these changes that may or may not come to your awkward late blooming body.

I was one such late bloomer.

Lucky for me my mom couldn't make it to maturation. Siiiiggggghhhhh of relief. I had the worlds most supportive mom. She was at every single elementary school program, parent teacher conference and neighborhood dance recital. I don't remember why she couldn't make it, but I do remember how bad she felt and how she promised she'd make it up to me....and how I actually PRAYED to thank the Lord that she wouldn't be there.

I sat through that mortifying event snickering at my poor friends as they wiggled uncomfortably in their mothers grasp praying for death to swallow them whole. Ha ha... I had avoided one of the ultimate humiliations.

Little did I know what fate had in store for me via my evil, plotting little imp of a sister.

My sister [we'll call her pug bug, since that was my nick name for her growing up that would ignite her to to the point of volcanic explosion...] seemed so sweet and innocent to the ignorant by stander. But underneath that facade of perfection lurked diablo himself. She was notorious for pulling pranks and was always on the lookout for the perfect opportunity to ruin my life. Well... you can see where this is going...

I came home from school gloating at my motherless maturation program victory that day. I was just about to head out to a blissful afternoon of whatever the heck 5th graders do when my mom called for everyone to come into the bathroom.

Uh oh... that can't be good...

As my two sisters and I sauntered into the bathroom I noticed she was holding the cabinet next to the toilet open and she was staring at me with that "your moment has come" "I'm so proud of you" preteen nervousness/humiliation vomit inducing grin on her face.

Then she held up a package of "feminine napkins". She announced, "Now girls this is for Sarah, so no one else touch them. Sarah, honey, when you need these they are right here. When the time comes come get me and I will show you how to use them." She was about to cry. Kill me now. Seriously, just shoot me.

And then I looked over at my evil 3rd grader sister and I really wanted to dieShe had this exact grin on her face:

Then the Grinch got an idea... an AWEFUL idea. The Grinch got a WONDERFUL, AWEFUL idea.

I could see her plotting and I knew something bad was coming. But I ran along to my friends house anyway, hoping that if I pretended a catastrophe wasn't coming, it would naturally be averted.

Well, my cherubic little sister was a lot more intelligent than her tiny little midget body would suggest. She saw the horrified look on my face, and she saw the tears shining in my proud mothers eyes. She could also read minds and could tell how I was dreading that moment that I actually had to open that box of feminine napkins, not because of the cramps, or the bodily secretions or the impending adulthood. Because of the scene that would come from my mom at the announcement of her daughters confirmed womanhood.

What else would a 3rd grade spawn of the devil do but exploit such a situation?

Mom went down to do the laundry. Pug Bug immediately ran to the bathroom, ripped open the dreaded package and removed a feminine napkin. How do you induce hysteric tears of joy and dread in your mother? You add ketchup (or catsup if you live in Canada) to a maxi pad and leave the blunt evidence in the garbage can for said unsuspecting mother to find.

Pug Bug was giggling as she hid in the closet waiting for the scene when my mother would find the "bloody" pad in the garbage and therefor ruin my life forever with her hysterics.

She waited.

And waited.

And waited.

For 5 whole minutes... which is 5 years in 3rd grader time. She couldn't wait. The neighbors dog was waiting to be tormented, but she couldn't miss this scene. She'd have to help it along. So she decided to put the pad in a more obvious place, one where my mother couldn't miss it and send her up.

She ran downstairs and turned up the drama a notch and exclaimed to my mother, "Mom! Sarah started her period! I found a used pad upstairs! Hurry!" Well, of course my mom went running! She couldn't miss this maturation milestone! She ran upstairs to the bathroom and found no sign of me or the evidence of my "condition". She said, "I don't see anything." Pug Bug said, "No mom! In here!" My mom walked into the kitchen and found it: a ketchup covered maxi pad strategically placed on the kitchen counter.

My sister got spanked. I told all her friends not to like her. And years later I still call her Pug Bug.

I think we're even now.

What's your worst sibling humiliation story?!

ps.... yes, I fully intend to make my daughter vomit with humiliation when she "becomes a woman" it's only fair...