LAST LAUGH

Pearls of Mom-Wisdom

A whistling woman and a crowing hen

BY LAUREN ROTH | ILLUSTRATION BY JAYNA HADWIGER

very Mother’s Day, I like to

Edo a mental assessment of my effectiveness as a mom. My kids aren’t in prison (as of press time, anyway). They haven’t hijacked a plane, joined a cult or bared their souls on “Dr. Phil.” Does that make me Mom of the Year? Maybe not, but I think I’m winning here.

Like most moms, I was trained for motherhood (and life) by my mom, who always had an expression to accompany any teaching moments. “No, you won’t know anyone there,” she’d say, “but remember, strangers are just friends you haven’t met yet.”

If life lessons were food to nourish us and guide us through life’s twists and turns, my mom’s bottomless cache of expressions held all the philosophical substance of cotton candy. “A whistling woman and a crowing hen always come to no good end,” she’d announce out of the blue, leaving me to scour my imagination for a single scenario in which that information might come in handy.

Because I devoted a disproportionate amount of time reflecting on my mom’s well-meaning advice (“Just don’t try to get five days out of your three-day deodorant pads!”), most of the counsel I’ve given my kids has been the product of on-the-job training and experience.

I asked my kids what they remember from the lessons I tried to teach them. Surprisingly, and in a good sign for my eventual grandchildren, they’d retained a few gems that they could quickly recite:

Don’t stress about algebra.

You will never, ever, ever need it in real life. I’m old enough to say unequivocally that I am right on this one.

Don’t tell people everything you know.

The younger me was an unfiltered oversharer of the first order, which drove my mom crazy. (“We had to spend two days cleaning our room because you guys were coming to stay with us,” or, “Come here and I’ll show you where our dog pooped in the living room today!”) As I’ve encouraged my oversharing kids to “keep a little mystery,” I’ve often cut their exposés short to remind them which information does or doesn’t “advance the plot.”

When the devil can’t show up somewhere, he’ll always send someone in his place.

My daughter recently told me, “Every kid you said was bad news has turned out to be bad news.” What can I say? Some people stand in for the devil. My gift lies in recognizing them before my kids do.

Sit down in jeans before you buy them.

It’s unfortunate to learn this the hard way. Closely related advice: Don’t try to stuff 30 pounds of flour into a 20-pound sack. You’re fooling no one.

Go to bed whenever you want.

Most kids have a set bedtime to whine about night after night. My little boxcar children were free to turn in whenever they jolly well felt like it, as long as they convincingly observed the second half of the rule: Just be ready to shine like a new penny tomorrow morning.

If you have to announce that you’re the “alpha,” you’re not the “alpha.”

Don’t brag; it’s unbecoming. And nothing more quickly identifies you as a “beta.”

The difference between an impulse and a good idea is about 24 hours.

I usually apply this to an impulse purchase. If I still feel strongly about an item, I’ll go back for it a day later. Likewise, with the clarity that only comes from a 24-hour delay, one of my sons narrowly escaped a scorching impulse to let his random friend turn his hair into a mohawk.

Always be nice to the lunch lady.

Not because there might be an extra bag of Fritos in it for you, but because people always remember the way you made them feel. So be kind … and, as my mom would say (for no particular reason), make sure to wear clean underwear in case you’re ever in an accident.

A LEGACY OF FINE FURNITURE FOR 62 YEARS

Keven Calonkey Carl Professional Member ASID NCIDQ Certified