Things They Don’t Tell You
One day I’m going to write The List Of Things They Don’t Tell You.
I shall start with parenting, I think, because the amount of stuff they don’t tell you is mind-boggling. Seriously, you spend a lot of time thinking “how come nobody ever mentioned this?”
There is an excellent chance that the majority of the Things They Don’t Tell You have to do with bodily fluids in some way. For example:
They don’t tell you that if you have a set of bunk beds shoved up against a wall, the kid on the top bunk will inevitably turn her head toward the wall when she barfs at 3:00am.
Want another? Ok…
They don’t tell you that toddlers in footie pajamas cease to be adorable when they have a sudden massive blow-out diarrhea diaper. Gravity is a real thing, people.
How about one more for the road?
They don’t tell you that one day you will be in the middle of Nowhere, TN, halfway between Hot-as-Hades Florida and Home-Sweet-Home Ohio, and your darling cherub of a toddler will decide to go all Lawnbird all over the inside of your van with the contents of her stomach, and before the hour is out you’ll be sitting on a curb in the drizzling rain outside a Dollar General with her stripped down carseat in hand, trying to scrape the remnants of her regurgitated breakfast out of the plastic grooves and seams with a spare toothpick from your glove box.
Yeah…I could have used some warning on that one.
Today the Far-Away Sparkette called me with a question that definitely fell into the Things They Don’t Tell You category. And before you jump to any quick judgment about how I, as her mother, failed to warn her, let me be quick to offer the defense that I only had one boy, and her issue was definitely peculiar to parenting multiple boys.
That is my story, and I’m sticking to it.
So anyway, she calls. And when the first words out of her mouth were “Now don’t laugh…”, I knew I was probably about to blow my parenting cred, because that’s a sure sign it’s gonna be funny.
“How do I get Ryland to stop peeing on Kendall?”
I didn’t even know what to say. But I know what I was thinking.
don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh...
If you’ve never had any children, or if you’ve only had girls, you probably don’t understand why this is funny. But if you’ve parented boys, you know the truth:
If you don’t laugh, you’ll die crying.
In spite of how it sounds, there isn’t a real victim here. Both the pee-er and the peed-on think it’s just hilarious.
This is because they are two and three year-old boys, which means at best, they’re a notch above feral.
I really had little to offer the Far-Away Sparkette other than an assurance that this too shall pass, and it is probably best to be very calm and matter-of-fact in dealing with it so that getting a rise out of her doesn’t become its own reward for the little rascals. Address it like any other transgression of good manners: we don’t pick our noses…we don’t throw our broccoli on the floor…we don’t pee on people…
So yes, the Far-Away Sparkette had a “Things They Don’t Tell You” day. And so did I.
Because they don’t tell you that one day your daughter is going to call you and ask you how to get your darling grandson to stop using his brother as a fire hydrant…