[E-Card] Parenting Euphemisms
Sometimes we parents have to lie to our kids.
To put it another way, if it makes you feel better: sometimes we have to use “parenting euphemisms.”
Like these…
Sometimes we parents have to lie to our kids.
To put it another way, if it makes you feel better: sometimes we have to use “parenting euphemisms.”
Like these…
I love coffee.
I don’t know how you can be a parent and not love coffee. The smell alone is Pavlovian, and a few cups a day are just plain necessary for survival! I also love both the taste and the smell of coconut. Like, a lot. No joke: I have seriously considered drinking Mom and Buried’s coconut-scented conditioner. But I didn’t want to die.
So here’s the problem with frank body’s otherwise highly effective frank coconut coffee scrub: I WANT TO EAT IT.
Children are little terminators.
To quote Kyle Reese, “They can’t be bargained with. They can’t be reasoned with. They don’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And they absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead.” The only difference between my son and Arnold Schwarzenegger in that movie is that my son’s speech is more intelligible. And that Arnold loses. My son never loses.
His commitment to being irrational is so absolute, it’s like living with Andy Kaufman. I honestly can’t tell where the act ends and the real person begins. Or if there even is an act. Or a real person. I’ve never been so uncertain of how to deal with someone in my life.
Which is why I might start acting like a child at work.
Mom and Buried is obsessed with Christmas.
Every December, she puts together a long list of holiday-based activities that we absolutely have to make time for, including visiting specific landmarks (the tree in Rock Center), attending specific events (Santa – at the busiest Macy’s in the world) and watching every single Christmas movie and TV special (even the grade-Z stuff on Hallmark and Lifetime).
The most important activity of all? Listening to Christmas music.
Not to state the obvious, but becoming a parent is kind of a big deal. One day you don’t have a kid and the next day you do and your life won’t ever be the same. It’s quite an adjustment. Even with nine months of warning.
I don’t care how much time you spend getting ready, how many books you read, how much stuff you buy: you can’t truly prepare for having kids because nothing prepares you for having kids except having kids. Being a parent takes some getting used to and it’s not always easy, especially at first.
It’s okay to admit your kid is an asshole sometimes. It’s okay to hate being a parent sometimes. And it’s okay to hate your baby.