I have officially claimed my title as Ultimate Superstitious Mom
Back a trillion years ago, during the ice age of 2002, when I had a toddler and an infant and thought I would be able to wear low rise jeans once again, I solidified my title as Ultimate Superstitious Mom.
That was when I first knew the boys would become confidants. Convinced they were conspiring against me, neither babe slept at the same time. I imagined their nonverbal communications went like this:
"I'll sleep from 10-12, you sleep from 1-3. We will both be up, fussing until Dad gets home from work."
I can remember the cold touch of the travertine kitchen floor where I would sit, crying, when my husband walked in the door.
I wasn't sad. I was exhausted.
If an hour passed that didn't involve tears, whining, tantrums, or food (yes, I'm talking about the babies -- kind of -- not really), we declared it a great day. But, whatever you do, don't say it.
If you say it - take it back!
If you verbalize the greatness of those few moments of silence, then it is immediately sent out into the universe only to come back and bite you in the haven't-lost-the-baby-weight-bum.
If the words, "wow, the kids are behaving great today," escaped your lips, I would climb (hurl myself) over you to knock on the nearest piece of wood.
It's not even like the kids had to hear it.
I could be on the phone!
Holding the receiver up to my ear - how we used to talk on the phone before it became (inappropriate)acceptable to put your life on speaker for everyone to hear.
Once the compliment was out there - I was jinxed.
Even if my husband had a look like he was going to say something positive -- I stopped him in his tracks. Don't do it! Don't say it! Let the sleeping babies lie and let the superstitions remain dormant.
My favorite is when someone remarks about how they never get sick. If you are going to tempt fate, I hope you have the antibacterial wipes, vitamin C, and chicken soup ready.
I can feel the germs closing in.
My husband says he's immune to the stomach bug, fantastic! Get the bucket. I'm sleeping in the other room. Love ya!
Jinxing isn't exclusive to behavior or health.
Your golf game is on fire - right down the middle every time? You can kiss the fairway goodbye because your slice is making a return. You might even have the (dare I say it) "shanks".
I type that only knowing that my golf season is over.
I take it back.
I have discovered that superstitions run deep in my family. I have passed the fear of jinxing on to my children, especially when it comes to sports.
Yes, I know you've won 3 games in a row -- but, please let me wash your uniform. No? Ok, then stand (way) over there while I spray you down with Febreze.
Why do we carry these rituals, superstitions, beliefs?
All I know is that jinxing exists. And I am not one to tempt fate.
Just last week, my oldest called to say how smoothly school was going and how much he loved it. That's wonderful, honey! Super! Now take it back.
Take. It. Back!
Love and (loads of) luck,