I want to thank everyone who has offered up that gem of wisdom. It is all I can do to not reply, "I will, especially that last moment where Junior here shrieked and grabbed for that toy and knocked down the entire display of Thomas the Tank Engine, then the entire store sneered at me like I should be tarred and feathered and banished to Mars. Yes, that is a moment that I will cherish."
But seriously, I love my kids. I love them more than anything on this planet. Being a mother is the most challenging thing that I have ever done and it is also the biggest blessing in my life. That is the gosh darn truth. I love, love, love those little people that Brock and I made, and I am doing my damnedest to mold them into people that not only their mother, but most of society, can love as well.
That being said, I'm not always awesome at my job. In fact, just last week I should have been fired and replaced with someone with a better attitude. And as hard as I try to steer my kids in the right direction, sometimes the advice I give them gets misconstrued and comes back to bite me in the arse.
For example, Thing 1 is a sweet, handsome boy that enjoys wearing a snappy outfit. When he
After hearing him take these sorts of compliments with zero humility, I decided it was time to mother-up and create a teaching moment. It loosely went like this- Life lesson number 458: Be humble. Say thank you. Give compliments back, especially to the females. Tell them that you like their outfit or that you think they have a pretty smile. This will get you far in life, my young Jedi!
After having this monumental chat with my offspring, I was feeling empowered. I was getting this parenting thing DOWN PAT, by golly! AND, he will thank me later when he has a gaggle of cute girls chasing after him.
A few days after this lesson, Thing 1 walked into my bathroom where I was standing in my bra and undies, drying my hair. He looked me up and down and slyly said, "You look nice today, Mommy."
Someone remind me not to ever tell people what to do. Ever. And that Victoria is not quite as secrective as she believes.
Oh, but it doesn't end here. You see, I wisely birthed not one, but two babies. I get to inflict my socially awkward misinformation onto not one, but two people. Yay for 'Merica.
Thing 2 is at an age where we are talking a lot about the potty. Not only does Thing 2 love talking about all things Poop, but I am attempting to spark an interest within him to USE the potty. Little dude needs some encouragement to forego the diapers and "be a big boy!". Lesson number #213: Big boys are helpful! Big boys clean up their toys! And big boys use the potty!
Of course, Thing 2 has no interest in sitting on the potty unless it is to get out of naptime (naptime being so pesky and all). And when he is on the potty, he is merely sitting. His only real interest is to yell "All Done!", hop down, slam the lid closed and flush the still empty bowl (flushing being so enjoyable and all).
What Thing 2 does have great interest in is when anyone else uses the potty. And when I say 'anyone', I mean me. If I shut the door, he busts in like a barbarian looking for a turkey leg. If I lock the door, he stands directly outside and howls like someone is removing his toenails with a spoon. So, like many mothers, I am never alone in the bathroom. Ever. This is a parenting moment that I do not cherish.
Thing 2 was spending some quality time with me in my tiny bathroom the other day, chanting the word "poop!" loudly in a sing-song manner as I quietly used the facilities. I reached for some toilet paper and leaned in that way that I do right before I use said toilet paper. Thing 2 pounced on that TP like a fox on a hen house. He and I had a mini wrestling match right then and there because, you see, he was trying to be a 'helpful big boy' and wipe Mommy. I, on the other hand, did not want or need assistance in that area, thankyouverymuch. It was all I could do to not weep softly into a cottony wad of Charmin and whisper, "Please.... go...just go...." Instead I manned up and met the challenge head on. With some cutting edge fake-out moves and a 103 pound advantage, I won that wrestling match and wiped myself. I then stood quickly to flush, wash my hands, and to try and erase that earlier moment from my mind. Upon my sudden jolt off the porcelain throne, I left my skinny jeans momentarily around my thighs. Immediately upon spotting my misplaced pants, Thing 2 scuttled around me, positioned himself behind me and attempted to hike up my skin tight, spandex laden pants. I was desperately trying to dry my hands as I heard his tiny 2 year old voice moan the word, "Ugh! Heavy!".
Seriously, someone kill me now. I will be locking the door and letting him have a screaming tantrum outside of it from here forward. I will also be wearing my headphones and listening to anything but the yelling on volume 11.
So, as you can plainly see, it is not a good idea to teach your children how to compliment people or to use the potty.
Other than that, I seem to be doing everything perfectly. Except for that "cherish EVERY moment part", because that is horseshit advice. Here's my advice, Life Lesson Number 4,567: Be present and enjoy the good stuff. Write about the bad stuff on the Internet so that you can laugh about it later (after therapy).
Peace, Love and Tons of Inappropriate Behavior,