You and your teenage daughter can’t agree on what constitutes suitable clothing for her to wear to school. You tell her:

That if a hemp sack dress is good enough for you, it’s good enough for her. It’s what’s on the inside that counts.

There is nothing wrong with wearing a shirt that has been passed down from her three older brothers. And does she really want to kill a cow just to get a leather coat? (Make her watch that video, again.)

While it may be fine for Caribbean stage performers to wear feathers and bikinis made of pearls like you saw last week, no, you don’t think Daisy Dukes, feather earrings, and a tube top are a good North-American interpretation.

Cut off her allowance, take her shopping at DrabMoms R Us, and tell her if you catch her rolling up her T-shirt again you’ll take away her iPhone.

Your four-year-old insists on watching the same episode of Caillou, over and over again. You:

Distract him with a lovely piece of kale-and-quinoa loaf. And then chart his transit time.

Please. You don’t own a TV and if you accidentally did, you wouldn’t let your child watch anything other than educational programs and documentaries.

Make him do jumping jacks while watching the show in order to keep his body activated even when his mind isn’t.

Tell him if you have to watch one more minute of that whiny brat you’ll wash his hair with the same shampoo that Caillou’s mom used. What hair? Exactly.

You’ve got ten minutes to feed the kids before throwing them in the minivan for drop off at three different hockey arenas. You:

Pull out the wheat-germ loaf you made last month during your “Glucose-Free Living Bake-a-Thon to Support Organic Farmers” weekend, spread some homemade elderberry jam on top, and sprinkle with hemp seed.

Actually, you don’t own a minivan. You get the kids ready for a 10k ride on their bikes. They don’t play hockey either. They are marathoners. And they ate energy bars a few minutes ago.

You pulled the kids out of hockey last year after you discovered the ancient sport of boar tossing during a recent family trip through Africa.

You threaten to cut off all electronics if they don’t get their butts in the van in two minutes, you rip through a drive-thru and high-five your seven-year-old on discovering that you are the Customer of the Month. Again.

Your kid is fighting with another kid at school. You:

Advise your child not to pick on a child who is clearly weakened both physically and mentally by their white-bread, processed-sugar, and high-fat diet.

Try to divert their energy by organizing a marathon to raise money for children who don’t have use of their arms...to fight with.

Train your child in the ancient sport of boar tossing.

Tell your kid to suck it up and then make passive-aggressive remarks to the other kid’s mom. Gossip about the entire family behind their back.

Your children refuse to go to and stay in bed. You:

Eliminate all sugar from their diet. That should work.

Redirect their energies into harnessing power through the exercise bike you have connected to your windmill.

Accept that the jetlag your children constantly experience is a symbol of how you have chosen to expose them to the wonders of the world. Embrace this.

Tell them if they don’t get their butts in bed by the time you count to three, you’ll make them sleep in the basement next to the empty wine cellar. Where zombies live.

What Type Of Mom Are You?

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| Written by RandomHouseCA

RandomHouseCA

Community Contributor

Quizzes Created: 2 | Total Attempts: 5,240

Questions: 5 | Attempts: 160 | Updated: May 17, 2022

All companies have a brand, which is really just a fancy way of saying "personality." Companies work hard to establish a brand and then make use of it.
When it comes right down to it, families aren't so different. A family unit has a personality too, and knowing what your family is all about can help you make informed decisions about what is and is not important to the whole family unit and to you as the boss of that unit. Figuring out your family brand is a walk in the park when you take a cue or two from Read morethe corporate world.
This quiz is from Kathy Buckworth's book, I Am So the Boss of You: An 8-Step Guide to Giving Your Family the "Business"

Questions and Answers

1.

You and your teenage daughter can’t agree on what constitutes suitable clothing for her to wear to school. You tell her:
- A.
  
  That if a hemp sack dress is good enough for you, it’s good enough for her. It’s what’s on the inside that counts.
- B.
  
  There is nothing wrong with wearing a shirt that has been passed down from her three older brothers. And does she really want to kill a cow just to get a leather coat? (Make her watch that video, again.)
- C.
  
  While it may be fine for Caribbean stage performers to wear feathers and bikinis made of pearls like you saw last week, no, you don’t think Daisy Dukes, feather earrings, and a tube top are a good North-American interpretation.
- D.
  
  Cut off her allowance, take her shopping at DrabMoms R Us, and tell her if you catch her rolling up her T-shirt again you’ll take away her iPhone.
2.

Your four-year-old insists on watching the same episode of Caillou, over and over again. You:
- A.
  
  Distract him with a lovely piece of kale-and-quinoa loaf. And then chart his transit time.
- B.
  
  Please. You don’t own a TV and if you accidentally did, you wouldn’t let your child watch anything other than educational programs and documentaries.
- C.
  
  Make him do jumping jacks while watching the show in order to keep his body activated even when his mind isn’t.
- D.
  
  Tell him if you have to watch one more minute of that whiny brat you’ll wash his hair with the same shampoo that Caillou’s mom used. What hair? Exactly.
3.

You’ve got ten minutes to feed the kids before throwing them in the minivan for drop off at three different hockey arenas. You:
- A.
  
  Pull out the wheat-germ loaf you made last month during your “Glucose-Free Living Bake-a-Thon to Support Organic Farmers” weekend, spread some homemade elderberry jam on top, and sprinkle with hemp seed.
- B.
  
  Actually, you don’t own a minivan. You get the kids ready for a 10k ride on their bikes. They don’t play hockey either. They are marathoners. And they ate energy bars a few minutes ago.
- C.
  
  You pulled the kids out of hockey last year after you discovered the ancient sport of boar tossing during a recent family trip through Africa.
- D.
  
  You threaten to cut off all electronics if they don’t get their butts in the van in two minutes, you rip through a drive-thru and high-five your seven-year-old on discovering that you are the Customer of the Month. Again.
4.

Your kid is fighting with another kid at school. You:
- A.
  
  Advise your child not to pick on a child who is clearly weakened both physically and mentally by their white-bread, processed-sugar, and high-fat diet.
- B.
  
  Try to divert their energy by organizing a marathon to raise money for children who don’t have use of their arms...to fight with.
- C.
  
  Train your child in the ancient sport of boar tossing.
- D.
  
  Tell your kid to suck it up and then make passive-aggressive remarks to the other kid’s mom. Gossip about the entire family behind their back.
5.

Your children refuse to go to and stay in bed. You:
- A.
  
  Eliminate all sugar from their diet. That should work.
- B.
  
  Redirect their energies into harnessing power through the exercise bike you have connected to your windmill.
- C.
  
  Accept that the jetlag your children constantly experience is a symbol of how you have chosen to expose them to the wonders of the world. Embrace this.
- D.
  
  Tell them if they don’t get their butts in bed by the time you count to three, you’ll make them sleep in the basement next to the empty wine cellar. Where zombies live.