I wrote about the big stuff I didn’t know about parenting, but now I’d like to share my list of some of the silly little things I’ve learned so far.
Food off Mom’s plate tastes better than on kid plates.
Food is much more alluring on my plate than my kids’ plates. If I put down little plate of dinner in front of a little chair, no one cares. If I walk away from the kitchen with a plate of my own, toys are dropped and little feet are scampering my way. It’s a scientific fact that food tastes better off Mom’s plate.
Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and ABCs have the same tune.
One day I was singing the ABCs to my son and he finished it with Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Wait just one minute. They have the same tune! Has this ever occurred to you? I’m not sure why I felt like this was some conspiracy that I had unearthed.
Pajamas all run a size small.
This baffles me. Why is it that after about 12 to 18 months I have to buy a size up in kids PJs? One of my sons wears 2T, so I must buy him 3T jams. The other wears 4T, so I must buy him 5T jams. This is true for any brand I’ve run across. Why oh why confuse us parents so? And don’t you know I’ve bought the wrong size more than a couple times because of this odd pajama math.
You will get excited when you see a fire truck.
With two boys, I now pay extra attention to trucks, emergency vehicles and tractors. I actually find myself getting excited spotting these things on the road. “Oh look, there are TWO fire trucks!” And then I realize I’m by myself in the car and try to get a grip.
You say each others’ names a lot.
I feel like in this family we say each others’ names an abnormal amount of times on a daily basis. Every sentence begins with a name. Every sentence contains another person’s name. And most sentences are repeated so we can say the names one more time. Here’s an example:
Kate: Luca! Stop sitting on Adri. Marcello, can you stop them?
Marcello: Luca, stop! Listen to Mama.
Adri: Luca, get off! Mama, help!
Luca: Adri, no! (As Adri starts to bite.)
Kate: Adri, no biting (as I pull them apart). Luca, you need a time out. Marcello, can you change Adri?
Marcello: What, Kate? (from the next room) …
If a child says their stomach hurts, nothing good will happen.
If you witness a child holding his stomach and say “I don’t feel so good,” you need to either peel back the rug or rush him to the bathroom if there’s time. Nothing good can happen.
You might forget how dress yourself.
After being home with kids for awhile, I develop Mommy Style Amnesia (MSA) on an occasional basis. MSA happens slowly and you don’t realize that you’ve forgotten how to put clothes together. Then one day when you’re out and about, you look down at what you’re wearing and feel completely embarrassed. How did you think it was ok to go out like this? What is happening? Mommy Style Amnesia.
The time change is a day of dread.
It doesn’t matter whether the time is going backward or forward, it will not bode well for you.
Big kid beds have kid repellent.
Why can’t kids stay in bed? There must be child repellent that forces them out. And I think it has added creative juices because the excuses have range. Before they can actually fall asleep, they need a story. And a song. And a prayer. And to go to the bathroom again. And water. And a hug. And a specific toy no one can seem to find.
Kids don’t like to let you sit down for longer than 2.5 minutes.
How is it possible that between these two kids someone always needs something? A snack, a drink, an unreachable toy, a bum wiped, a diaper changed, a fight broken up, a mess wiped up …
You start saying cliche parent things.
I intentionally never wanted to say any of these things, but every once in awhile I hear one escape my mouth:
- Don’t make me pull this car over.
- I’ll give you something to cry about.
- If you cross your eyes too long they’ll stay that way.
- I brought you into this world and I’ll take you out.
- Because I said so.
- I don’t care who started it. I’m finishing it.
You don’t know how to cook.
You don’t know the right way to cut sandwiches. You don’t know whether the banana peel should be on or off. You don’t know that you shouldn’t cut the pizza in little pieces — that it tastes better as a whole slice. Hopefully at least you know that you do not ever, ever mix food together. It shouldn’t even touch.
Quiet is bad.
If you finally sit down to drink your almost-cold coffee and realize you cannot see any children or hear any children, I’m sorry but you must get back up and look. Someone is either in peril, eating cat food, coloring something with markers, or unrolling all the toilet paper into the toilet.
You can both cry and laugh within five minutes.
If you find yourself crying one minute only to be giggling the next, don’t worry, you’re not losing your mind. You’re a parent. You can be pushed to your limits with messes and demands and whining, but when a little person wearing dragon boots, a cape, and Mr. Potato Head glasses comes over to see what’s wrong, it’s ok to laugh. Kids are funny. Thank God. I seriously mean that. Thank you, God, for humor. Otherwise we might not make it!
What are some funny little things about parenthood you’ve learned?