Either the barber just gets a little too buzzer-happy, mom/dad discovers kids’ haircuts are not a DIY job, or you shell out a decent amount of money for a fancy haircut at the fun place with the chairs that look like a spaceship only to have a chick who looks like she’s 9 years-old butcher your son’s gorgeous red locks to smithereens (ahem, I’m not bitter…). In any case, you take a step back, look at your child and whisper, “Oh dear Maude, what have I done???”
|He looked like this but less cute.|
Thankfully, I managed to pull it together and get my vanity in-check before my son saw the horrified look on my face. I’m not exaggerating when I say he looked exactly like a short, plump little Spock or Lloyd Christmas. But did that kid look upset or ask to wear a hat for the next 4-6 weeks? Nah, he didn’t bat an eyelash. He just gave me his version of the Maude face that seemed to communicate, ‘Ain’t no thang to have a bad haircut when you’re a kid, mom.’
Peeing/ Pooping Oneself.
Before I potty-trained my daughter I’d heard from other moms that the best motivator would be to let her soil herself. I was told she’d find the mess embarrassing and that would be enough to spur her to use the potty. Um, whuck?! Have you met my kid? On Day 1 of potty training I swear to you that she stood on the living room rug peeing and pooping herself while simultaneously asking for a fruit roll up. She didn’t miss a beat. No shame, mom. No shame.
Talking about Peeing and Pooping.
This is an addendum to the above. I am still consistently shocked at how little modesty my daughter has about her bathrooming habits. I have to regularly remind her that I don’t need to hear about the size, shape, and density of her bowel movements…but what’s truly humiliating is when she feels the need to announce them in very public places, like church or ballet class. For example, about a month after my kid was finally successfully potty trained she yelled this gem in the middle of a crowded supermarket produce section: “MOOOMMMM! I'M FARTING! I'M FARTING! I THINK THAT MEANS MY POOP IS COMING OUT IN MY UNDERPANTS!” Suffice it to say, she found nothing wrong with that over-share but I was mortified.
Anything Having to Do with Booogers.
This time of year your average toddler is a drippy, coughing germ circus. And no adult (who wasn’t an escapee from the Home for the Demented and Bewildered) would EVER walk around with snot running liberally down their face. Nor would an adult would ever dig for gold in plain view without embarrassment. Mine do it with pride. And no adult - failing to have a tissue on hand - would either eat the evidence or just use their shirt. Please tell me they will age out of this. PLEASE. You can lie, it’s fine.
My husband is out the door to work each morning at 5:30am, which means in the winter he’s getting dressed in a dark bedroom. He struggles to find his belt and other sock, all the while bumping into stuff and whisper-cursing like a trucker. And then invariably around 9am I’ll get an email from him saying, “I just went to go take a leak and discovered my undies are on backwards again. FROWN.” It presents quite a predicament: does he strip down in the bathroom stall and fix the mistake or does he walk around all day with his undies on wrong? Meanwhile, as I’m reading his email, my kid walks by with her undies on backward, no pants, wearing a tiara, a cape, and socks on her hands and announces “I’m ready for preschool!”.
(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2011