Since I've been at this whole motherhood thing for about six years now, I would like to share with you a small fraction of what I have learned since my kids were born. There are certain undeniable truths about parenting. Anything that claims to be "ouchless" isn't. That is a total lie. Any product that feels the need to include the word "ouchless" on the label is to be used for something that hurts. "Tear free" shampoo produces wailing and gnashing of teeth every single time you put it in a child's eyes. Anything that says "childproof" really means "adult" proof. As in, you aren't getting in that sucker without help from your child. The people who package toys are a sadistic, vindictive little group of monsters. They sit up at night and think of ways to anchor Barbie dolls in boxes that will take you ten minutes and at least three tools to get out. All while the short people are standing there screaming, "Get it out! Get it out! Hurry! Hurry!"
The most important bit of parenting fact I would like to pass along is this: The mother's curse (I hope you have some kids who act just like you) WORKS. It is for real, and I have proof. The child I most often butt heads with in our family is the one who's exactly like me. She's a picky eater who must analyze each and every bite before it enters her mouth. She is challenged when it comes to fashion. I tried to patiently explain that an orange shirt and orange pants didn't really need to be worn together, even though they were both orange. Finally I got exasperated and yelled, "You look like a Push-Up! Now go change your pants!" Every article of clothing on the planet has something wrong with it. It itches, it's too big, it's too small, it slides when she walks. The list goes on and on and on.
She hates any and all forms of tights. I admit that she gets this honestly, but come on. It took me ten minutes to arrange the seam on her toes before church. She gets frustrated easily when she can't do something perfectly the first time she tries it. Again, it's possible that she comes by that naturally, but it doesn't make it any less annoying.
Our personal war on most days is about her hair, which I have to admit is pretty funny. I was the daughter of a hairdresser, and most of our fights were about my hair! The other day, I had fixed her hair like Rapunzel, which is her current favorite hairstyle. She took off to get her shoes, and I heard it. The sound I despise more than anything else. That "I'm dissatisfied with something" sound coming from my laundry room. Out she came, face red and blotchy, tears still in her eyes.
"What on Earth is wrong with you?" She stood there for a second, touched the back of her just-fixed hair, looked at me, and said, "There's more space on one side of my ponytail than the other and I just don't know where the center of my head is!" What a coincidence. I've lost the center of my head too...also known as my mind!
The most important bit of parenting fact I would like to pass along is this: The mother's curse (I hope you have some kids who act just like you) WORKS. It is for real, and I have proof. The child I most often butt heads with in our family is the one who's exactly like me. She's a picky eater who must analyze each and every bite before it enters her mouth. She is challenged when it comes to fashion. I tried to patiently explain that an orange shirt and orange pants didn't really need to be worn together, even though they were both orange. Finally I got exasperated and yelled, "You look like a Push-Up! Now go change your pants!" Every article of clothing on the planet has something wrong with it. It itches, it's too big, it's too small, it slides when she walks. The list goes on and on and on.
She hates any and all forms of tights. I admit that she gets this honestly, but come on. It took me ten minutes to arrange the seam on her toes before church. She gets frustrated easily when she can't do something perfectly the first time she tries it. Again, it's possible that she comes by that naturally, but it doesn't make it any less annoying.
Our personal war on most days is about her hair, which I have to admit is pretty funny. I was the daughter of a hairdresser, and most of our fights were about my hair! The other day, I had fixed her hair like Rapunzel, which is her current favorite hairstyle. She took off to get her shoes, and I heard it. The sound I despise more than anything else. That "I'm dissatisfied with something" sound coming from my laundry room. Out she came, face red and blotchy, tears still in her eyes.
"What on Earth is wrong with you?" She stood there for a second, touched the back of her just-fixed hair, looked at me, and said, "There's more space on one side of my ponytail than the other and I just don't know where the center of my head is!" What a coincidence. I've lost the center of my head too...also known as my mind!
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