I’ve been a mom for almost eight years. There are some things I should know by now but apparently, I don’t. Because I’m an idiot.
Always check the diaper first. The other day I was in a hurry, so I tried to do a quickie diaper change on my bed. I was positive it was an Uno, because I couldn’t smell anything. So I whipped the diaper off with a flourish and was rewarded with several small turds flying up to greet my face. And then fall softly onto my bed. I was just lucky that I didn’t scream until after the poo hit my face. Always check for the deuce, my friends. Always check for the deuce.
Beware of the Ominous Silence. We were having one of those rare moments when everyone was happily doing their own thing. One was reading, one was playing with Legos and one was smashing play dough into the carpet. Mommy may have been on Facebook. Then all of a sudden I noticed it was quiet. I wandered into the kitchen to see all three kids freeze. Then scatter. They’d found my hidden stash of PMS candy. Do you know what happens to three small children when they eat an entire bag of mini Mounds bars? They become demon spawn for about 90 minutes. Then they cry a lot. Then they get sent to bed early and mommy has a drink.
Please remember to cut your kid’s nails because now it’s just really gross and awkward. Why do I always forget that my kids need to get their nails cut? I overlook this basic part of their grooming until they scratch themselves on the face right before picture day, so that my inability to parent is recorded for posterity. Or I ask my son if he’s washed his hands and he holds up some Howard Hughes-looking monkey paws that make him appear as if he has ring worm. Nice.
When one of your kids won’t eat – call in the big guns. Go with the noodle. I’ve spent the past week killing myself trying to get my toddler to eat. I even resorted to making her apple sauce from scratch. But all she would eat was yogurt. Then I randomly made myself some ramen noodles for lunch and she was like: “I have some? Some of dem noodles? PLEASE?” She then proceeded to carb-load like she was running the NYC Marathon. And I totally should have known this already because the other two kids have been worshipping at the alter of the noodle since they could manage solid food. I mean, if I make prime rib, they’re like meh. But serve those little ingrates mac’n’cheese from a box they act like I’m frigging Eric Ripert and I just shaved truffles over their plate.
Don’t think they’re not listening when you’re talking on the phone. You know how I know? Because I overheard my daughter telling her brother “Mommy told Miss Ellen on the phone that Daddy’s just grouchy because of the time of the month that it is and because he hasn’t gotten any lately. Any WHAT, I wonder? I hope he gets some soon.”
As you can see, in spite of my best efforts and years of experience, I’m a walking parenting FAIL. You’re welcome, everybody. Go pat yourself on the back, because at least you’re doing it better than me.
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