It’s Nothing Like You Thought It Would Be

There are a lot of things no one tells you about being a parent. From how you will have an overwhelming urge to hold a pillow over that precious baby’s mouth until the screaming stops to how guilty and alone you will feel for having those kinds of feelings or for  not always being completely and utterly head over heels in love with your child.  However, I think we do talk about those things more and more these days. There are plenty of books written about it and we mamas open up and talk a bit more than our moms probably did.  Still you have to actually experience these things to truly understand them. It’s one thing for your best friend to tell you that those first few weeks you will be more tired and cry more than you ever in have your life. It’s quite another to actually live that. Why is this? I think it’s because there is no gage with which to measure that sort of bone tiredness. I mean you might think to yourself, “I got wasted and danced until 4am, went out for eggs and bacon, and got home just as my alarm was going off. Then I worked a full 9 hours. I know tired!” But you don’t. This is nothing like that. That’s easy.  Because no one is screaming in your face every two hours and clamping down on your nipple like it’s a goddamn chew toy.

The real thing that no one tells you? What little freaks these kids are! I read one time that parenting a toddler is like having a bipolar drunk for a boss. You never know what mood she’ll be in or what crazy thing she’s going to insist you do for her.  It is my humble opinion that truer words were never written. I mean one minute your 2 year old is giggling and kissing you, putting her little toes in your face and saying “Piggies!” with complete glee while you do “this little piggy . . ” on her toes. The next? She snatches her foot away, screams as loudly as she can and hurls a toy at your head.

I have a very close and dear friend who likens the parent-child relationship to an abusive spouse and battered wife relationship. Spot on. I mean they yell at us that the toast isn’t toasted enough and we clamor right over to the table full of apologies and quickly putting in the toaster before they throw their plate at us. Socks aren’t on just so? I’ll fix them. Hold on! I’ll line up the seam the way you like it across your toes! Just don’t rip them off and have a complete meltdown. We’ve only got 5 minutes to get in the car and make it to school on time!

No one tells you that you will pour a glass of milk, then a glass of apple juice and finally a glass of water all for the same child. Because when you are kidless you smugly think to yourself, “Like hell I will. Why is this dummy doing what a 3 year old tells her to?!” Because I’m being held hostage by the 3 year old. I will do what it takes to make it out alive, people. Alive and with most of my marbles still intact.  No we don’t do everything they want us to nor do I always change out the milk for the juice. There are plenty of times when I say (yell), “You asked me for milk and I poured you milk and you are going to drink it!” But? Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. You have to pick your battles.

Which is why you will sometimes see a child wearing a batman costume when it isn’t Halloween. Or another child wearing the same shirt 3 days in a row. Or a mom carrying a red sippy cup into a restaurant because it is the only cup her child will drink from. These little freaks darling kids of ours have to take baths, brush their teeth, put on a jacket when it’s cold and eat their veggies. So instead of fighting with our kids all the time, sometimes you have to say “fuck it” and let them wear their fanciest dress to school.

No one tells you that you will have to sing made up songs to your child that only he knows the words to, but if you don’t get the words right he’ll yell. No one tells you that you will have to blow dry your hair with your kid in the bathroom with you. And that he’ll have to have his blanket, Legos and another blanket with him. And that you will have to position yourself on the edge of the tub so that your legs cover him.

No one tells you that your sweet girl who managed to make it through her 2nd and 3rd years without being terrible and worse than terrible will turn into a freak when she’s 4 and it’ll only get worse when she’s 5.

I’m telling you now. But I know that if you don’t have children or if your child hasn’t started in with the bipolar-alcoholic-abusive-spouse behavior yet, you aren’t going to believe me. That’s fine. I was once smug too.