Three Moms, Three Kids

The last twelve hours have given me three different looks at kids and their moms. I thought I'd share:

The first was the Monkey. Just after I clocked in at work I went back home to our neighborhood. Met up with the Weirdo, the Monkey, and a few more family members that were taking the Monkey and his cousin trick or treating. It was a slow night for Halloween, so I got to take the Monkey up to the doors of several houses and get some candy - most of which he probably won't eat. The Monkey, not quite 2 yet, was having a great time. He was walking and babbling, enjoying the company of his family while occasionally stooping to put a nice looking rock or leaf into his jack-o-lantern candy bucket. He didn't have a care in the world and was only concerned with whatever stimulus he received from one moment to the next. I headed back to work, leaving the Monkey with the Weirdo. Happy times!

Fast forward a few hours.

A mother calls 9-1-1 because her 9 year old has run away - again. She brought her kids to work with her because she has no childcare available to her. The 9 year old had just been punished today because he had gotten in trouble at school. So, the mom wouldn't let him go trick or treating tonight. Having missed his opportunity for free candy the 9 year old took off from his mom's work. I found him walking a few blocks away, and when he saw me he started running. I caught him and brought him back to mom. I had a few minutes to talk to the kid.
I hate my mom.
I don't want to live with my mom.
And so on and so forth. He didn't really hate his mom. She didn't give him everything he wanted and always let him have his way so he was angry. The mom said each time he didn't get his way he would try to run away.

A few more hours later.

Teenager with a blown tire on I-85. On his way back to Alabama, coming from a concert here in Atlanta. He was struggling just a little with changing his tire, so I helped him out. He surprised me when he said he was thankful his mother had showed him how to change a tire. I guess I kinda expected him to say his dad had taught him. The Weirdo would not be pleased at my gender-based assumptions. She might tell me to go blog about it.

Anyway, I guess weather you're trying to be a good mother to a toddler, a preteen, or a full-blown teenager with a driver's license, there really is no set job description. That's probably true for good fathers too. Trick or treating, punishment, or emergency road service - it's all included with a million more things.

A big thank you to all the good parents out there!