Let me put down my glass of wine freshly filled from the tap. Yes, I am drinking wine from a box. Parenting three children requires a box. Bottles just will not do.
The inspiration for this entry of the 'truths' of parenthood comes fresh from the nostrils of my littlest babe. I just got done picking the biggest boogers from her teeny little schnozz. This prompted me to think of the things we do as parents that are absolutely shocking to others, whether they're parents or not.
This list is not all-inclusive, obviously, though it is based 100% on truth.
1. I drown out my children's sobs as I extend their nostrils to their very limits getting every last booger out of their noses. I pick any and every booger I can. It makes me feel like a success.
2. I will wait out my husband's arrival home in order to avoid changing a nasty poopy diaper and then pretend the dirty deed just happened.
3. I dole out an extra 1/2 teaspoon of cold medicine in hopes that my children might sleep a little better. I don't feel guilty.
4. I have eaten food that my child has spit out.....without even noticing.
5. I let my eldest daughter watch "Gossip Girl" until the first sex scene. If it never happens, she watches the whole show. She claims it is her favorite show on TV.
6. I ask my children to get me another beer. (and they know which kind I drink)
7. I will let my children watch two hours of TV or a movie just so I can read stuff on the internet or make dinner.....or just do nothing at all.
8. I let my son sit in his booster seat with no pants (or diaper) just because it's easier than fighting him. This is not the only thing I give in about. He also stands on the countertop and spends 30 minutes washing his hands and feet in the toilet.
9. My children don't bathe nearly as often as they should because it's a pain in the ass. I tell them it's because I don't want their skin to dry out.
10. I would rather catch puke in my hands than have to clean it out of the carpet. Nothing makes me run faster than a child who is sick.
On the other hand, while I sound like a shitty slacker parent, I love the absolute crap out of those kids. I hate to see their tears, I hate to hear their cries, and I hate to see their hearts hurting. I would do anything to let my kids know that they are the reason I smile when I'm sitting in the chair staring into space. They are my pride and joy, and every moment I share with them, no matter how rocky it seems at the time, is another moment that I couldn't imagine spending any other way. Parenthood makes you do and say things you never imagined you'd do and is, by far, the most important thing I'll ever do in my life. So while I drink my wine, my heart grows wistful to see their little faces again in the morning and know that they love me like none other. And guess what, so do I.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Confession #6: I drink during dinner.
On the nights that I make dinner for my family, which is most nights, I have to drink to survive. This confession is quite simple: I can hardly stand listening to the whining and complaining emanating from the mouths of my sweet, young babes.
I will NOT make dino chicken nuggets, pizza rolls, or noodles every single night of their lives, and this obviously causes major angst among the 5 and under set. How dare I put together a well-balanced meal incorporating all the food groups? How am I to expect them to eat more than two bites? How dare I ask my children to try something that is not dipped in a hot vat of oil and served in a paper sack? Maybe I should try that next time. Sit in the car in the garage for 10 minutes, walk in, hand them my delicious homemade chicken noodle soup out of a Schlotzsky's bag, tell them I paid $25 for dinner, and then watch them scarf it down. Nothin' else I'm doing is working.
So, the moral of this story? I drink to survive. It's the only way to handle dinnertime on our block. Please excuse me while I go fix another grape vodka and Sprite Zero.....as dinnertime has only just begun.
I will NOT make dino chicken nuggets, pizza rolls, or noodles every single night of their lives, and this obviously causes major angst among the 5 and under set. How dare I put together a well-balanced meal incorporating all the food groups? How am I to expect them to eat more than two bites? How dare I ask my children to try something that is not dipped in a hot vat of oil and served in a paper sack? Maybe I should try that next time. Sit in the car in the garage for 10 minutes, walk in, hand them my delicious homemade chicken noodle soup out of a Schlotzsky's bag, tell them I paid $25 for dinner, and then watch them scarf it down. Nothin' else I'm doing is working.
So, the moral of this story? I drink to survive. It's the only way to handle dinnertime on our block. Please excuse me while I go fix another grape vodka and Sprite Zero.....as dinnertime has only just begun.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Confession #5: I'm gonna miss this.
Please be prepared for the sentimental, sappy thoughts that are prevailing today. If you don't like emotion, it's time to go to someone else's blog for the day.
I was in the bathroom today, looked at the dinosaurs that were watching me, and I sighed at first at the fact that there were toys in the bathroom. Then I smiled. I was in the shower today, saw two dinosaurs watching me, and sighed that there were toys in the shower. Then I smiled. I thought to myself, "Some day you're going to miss the dinos."
*(pause for sniffling and a few tears being shed.....)*
There are so many things about my itty bitty children that I'm going to miss in the next few years, not to mention when they've all moved out of the house. Here's just a random sampling:
*The handprints on the windows
*The toys everywhere: counter, pantry, drawers, bathroom, car, etc.
*Q drinking cheese out of plastic containers
*L helping me bake (really just to lick the beaters, but I don't care)
*Seeing H's smiling face when I get her from her crib in the morning
*Clapping when my little boy goes potty on the toilet
*Helping my kids pick out their clothes for the day
*Solving their problems with a hug and a kiss
*Getting a smile just by singing "I love you, a bushel and a peck!"
*Hearing a little voice shout, "LOOK AT ME!" as he or she does something silly or amazing (or dangerous!)
*Having all children believe in Santa
*Being able to spell the words I don't want the kids to hear
*Picking little boogers out of little noses
*Hearing Q say "dy-soars" for dinosaurs, and "booty" for Sleeping Beauty
*Helping little hands get washed in the sink
*Having children come out of the woodwork to shout at me when they hear the phone ring
*Watching L read books and photo "ottoms" to Q
*Having a dance party in the kitchen when the kids are just a little too crabby
*Naptime
*Hearing little baby noises when H is eating
*Watching Q get mad at the washer because its lid slammed on my hand....yet again
*Seeing all of our bedroom pillows on the landing as the kids play fort or picnic
*Hearing people tell me that I have my hands full. Because when they stop saying that, it means my kids are too grown up to be considered a handful anymore.
With parenting comes the fair share of crabbing about doing everything for your children and having no time to yourself. They need you for almost everything. Their needs are never-ending. Their needs are oh-so-urgent. Yet I know that they won't always need me, so I am going to revel in this time of their lives make sure they know how much I need them, too.
I was in the bathroom today, looked at the dinosaurs that were watching me, and I sighed at first at the fact that there were toys in the bathroom. Then I smiled. I was in the shower today, saw two dinosaurs watching me, and sighed that there were toys in the shower. Then I smiled. I thought to myself, "Some day you're going to miss the dinos."
*(pause for sniffling and a few tears being shed.....)*
There are so many things about my itty bitty children that I'm going to miss in the next few years, not to mention when they've all moved out of the house. Here's just a random sampling:
*The handprints on the windows
*The toys everywhere: counter, pantry, drawers, bathroom, car, etc.
*Q drinking cheese out of plastic containers
*L helping me bake (really just to lick the beaters, but I don't care)
*Seeing H's smiling face when I get her from her crib in the morning
*Clapping when my little boy goes potty on the toilet
*Helping my kids pick out their clothes for the day
*Solving their problems with a hug and a kiss
*Getting a smile just by singing "I love you, a bushel and a peck!"
*Hearing a little voice shout, "LOOK AT ME!" as he or she does something silly or amazing (or dangerous!)
*Having all children believe in Santa
*Being able to spell the words I don't want the kids to hear
*Picking little boogers out of little noses
*Hearing Q say "dy-soars" for dinosaurs, and "booty" for Sleeping Beauty
*Helping little hands get washed in the sink
*Having children come out of the woodwork to shout at me when they hear the phone ring
*Watching L read books and photo "ottoms" to Q
*Having a dance party in the kitchen when the kids are just a little too crabby
*Naptime
*Hearing little baby noises when H is eating
*Watching Q get mad at the washer because its lid slammed on my hand....yet again
*Seeing all of our bedroom pillows on the landing as the kids play fort or picnic
*Hearing people tell me that I have my hands full. Because when they stop saying that, it means my kids are too grown up to be considered a handful anymore.
With parenting comes the fair share of crabbing about doing everything for your children and having no time to yourself. They need you for almost everything. Their needs are never-ending. Their needs are oh-so-urgent. Yet I know that they won't always need me, so I am going to revel in this time of their lives make sure they know how much I need them, too.
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