I try to treat all my children as fairly as possible.

Chores are equally divided between the three kids with Fric and Frac vacuuming, each cleaning a bathroom and folding the laundry while Jumby is responsible for licking clean any furniture his tongue can find.

Fric and Frac have the same responsibilities and face the same consequences. I try very hard not to show favoritism based on who I currently am less annoyed with at the moment.

This equal opportunity mothering bit led me to a grade six award ceremony this morning where my darling and talented man-child Frac, was set to receive a class award for (get this) creative writing skills.

*Why yes, sparkle dust totally flew out my arse when I learned my son is TAKING AFTER ME.*

Heh.

So it was with great glee that I set out this morning to attend Frac’s ceremony and watch my little mini-me Hemmingway accept his award amongst all the pomp and circumstance a small rural school can avail itself to.

I even made sure to comb my hair and put on a bra so as to be the most presentable Redneck Mommy I could be. (The things I do for my children.)

After my graceful entrance (where I tripped on my own feet and practically fell on my face in front of fifty or so other parents) I took my seat, making sure I was front and centre and camera ready to capture this illustrious moment in my son’s fledgling career as class exaggerator poet.

Soon the entire flock of grade six students filed in, with an assorted look of boredom, excitement and misery on their collective faces, all scanning the crowd of adults to see which parents loved them enough to subject themselves to an early morning school assembly.

Once the kids settled onto the soft foamy blue mats that I had earlier tripped on, the ceremony started.

Nothing like a rousing version of O’Canada bellowed out by rowdy eleven year olds and tired parents all at once, to shake the cobwebs loose in the morning.

One award was handed out after another, with the parents all politely clapping as a child’s name was called out and the ceremony stretched on for what seemed like forever.

*Note to teachers: When scheduling an award ceremony in the morning that has no end in site it might behoove you to show a little mercy to the parents and either speed things up or provide free coffee so we don’t all die of boredom as we watch other people’s children receive recognition for what our children have failed to excel at.*

Just as my ass was officially starting to grow numb sitting on the hard plastic chair and my palms were starting to burn from all the polite clapping I was doing, it was my son’s turn.

The language arts teacher stepped up to the podium and started explaining what it takes to make an exceptional student and a brilliant writer. I listened with rapt attention as she prattled on and on about the merits of creativity and imagination and the willingness to expand one’s small world with the poise of the pen.

I could see Frac sit a little straighter as he knew his name was about to be called. Some of his friends started elbowing him in the ribs in a friendly manner. The girls were all batting their eyelashes and blowing kisses in the air at my kid.

(Well okay, only one girl and she may or may not have looked like Big Bertha and my son may or may not have shuddered but still, the moment was magical.)

“And it is with great pride that I present Tanis Miller’s son with this certificate of AWESOMENESS because, like his mother, he can weave words into magic and I am sure that one day Tanis Miller’s son will be a world famous author rivaling only his mother in both critical success and retail domination at the book store!”

(Others may have just heard, “And it is with great pride that I present Frac Miller with a certificate in creative writing.” I like my version better.)

With that, Frac stood up to soak in his moment of glory and I knew my moment of parental pride was before me.

I grabbed the pompoms I had stashed in my oversized purse and stood up yelling, “Go FRAC! WHOOT! FRAC-YYY. THAT’S RIGHT BABY. WHOOT! FRAC!!!”

The other adults in the crowd burst into laughter and chanted “FRAC, FRAC, FRAC!” as my son walked up the stairs to accept his Pulitzer Prize certificate.

(Oh okay. They all laughed as they clapped and shook their heads at my crazy antics. Thankfully they have all grown to know that I’m a nut job and they find it highly adorable amusing.)

Frac’s classmates did start to chant “FRAC! FRAC! FRAC!” as they laughed at with me.

Frac looked out on me as he stood on that stage and his face was beet red but he was smiling through his mortification. He accepted his award with more grace and dignity than I could ever muster (he must get that from his father) and then he stepped up to the microphone to say his little acceptance speech.

“Um, thanks,” he croaked out as he looked at his award. “This is really cool.” Then he looked out into the crowd and saw me standing there, waving my silver pompoms and sighed into the microphone, “Sheesh MOM. You’re such a nut!”

Canada’s next great Literary God

The crowd burst into laughter and applause and Frac made his way back to his seat as I cheered again and then took my seat.

After the ceremony was over, the students wandered through the throng of parents and Frac bee-lined right to me, with a group of his buddies tagging along right behind him.

“Frac! I’m so proud of you! Your father is going to be busting with pride when he sees your award!” I grinned to him as I hugged him tight and kissed the top of his head.

Frac squirmed out of my grasp and looked up at me very sternly and said, “Mom, when we get home you and I are going to have a firm talk.”

His friends started to snicker at my son putting his mother in her place.

Not one to be outdone, I simply smiled at him sweetly and nodded my head.

“Sperm? Sure we can have a sperm talk when we get home. Anything my little writer boy wants,” I laughed as I tussled his hair.

His friends burst into laughter and Frac went a charming shade red.

“I said a FIRM talk MOM! FIRM! Not a SPERM talk!” he squawked.

“Anything you like kidlet. Anything at all!” I called after him as he hustled his teasing friends away from me before I could do any more damage to his street cred.

“Remember Frac: MOMMY LOVES YOU!” I chortled.

Really, he didn’t expect me to only torment his sister in public did he?

Silly boy.

***And Yes, I really did shake shiny silver pompoms for him. I thought about waving a foam finger but it was too big to smuggle into my purse.***