Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Make it stop

Here is the deal when you have kids, they don't come with a manual.  When you buy an electric pencil sharpener it comes with a 50 page manual on how to work it.  You take a baby home from the hospital and they pat you on the back and say good luck sucker.  Ok, they probably leave the sucker part out, but it is there.

So, what do you do when the baby hasn't stopped crying in 50 hours?  I mean beside cry yourself?  You start asking for help.  I think in the old days, where there were more people around that were, say your family, it wasn't such a big deal that you didn't have a f-ing clue about what to do.  Grandma would take the baby and shoo you off to bed.  But, our modern society has separated us from Grandma.

You make it through the baby stages, you figure out how to potty train, and then adolescences sets in.  I don't know how to express this other than to say, great googly-moogly balls of fire, it is like having a baby in the house again.  In that you suddenly have this creature that you are responsible for and you have not a clue on how to manage it, and Grandma ain't willing to help you anymore.

It happens right when you are feeling sort of cocky that you got this parenting thing.  You sleep regularly, you can leave the house without enough gear to outfit a small country, going to visit a friend for an afternoon no longer requires a level of planning that would impress the US Army and it seems like you might make it out alive.  The universe HATES it when you start to feel like you might make it out alive.  So, enter a pubescent, hormonal crazy person, aka, your child.

This child will announce that you don't know how they feel, you have N E V E R been in love, and you have no idea how much it hurts that your first love rejects you.  I am always tempted to say, back up the bus there buster, I was an overweight pimply faced kid.  NO one wanted me.  I was like kryptonite to guys.  They weren't into it.  I was rejected more before breakfast than you ever will be in your life, so get a grip.

As you express this, the mutant will look at you and say, MOTHER, you just don't understand, it is different for me.  I can not get a grip, my life is ruined.  I will never love again.

I am left wondering, when did my life become an ABC after-school special?  Who took my sweet child away and left me with this crazy beast?  Seriously, I want a refund or at least a manual.

1 comment:

  1. You've been nominated for a Kreativ Blogger award!