Let me just clarify something up-front: There are a LOT of things I never should have said I’d never do once I became a mom. Guaranteed I have done every one of them. I also once said I’d NEVERRRRR marry a farmer because I grew up in the country surrounded by farmers and I thought there might be more to life than farming. Guess what, I (happily) married an urban farmer (who would love to become a rural farmer if the opportunity presents itself) and I’m more than good with it.
There are so many things my pre-mom self was just clueless about and sometimes ignorance really is bliss because in time we all learn what and when we need to. That being said, there are a few things I still agree with my pre-mom self about.
Parents are annoying.
In my 20s before I had kids I would go to my niece’s soccer games and witness all these parents getting worked up about the team dynamics, talking behind other parents’ backs, complaining to the coach and trying to come up with the PERFECT snack to bring the team the next time they were put on snack-duty. “What the?” I used to wonder why it had to be so dramatic. Annnnnnnnd…still wondering. Don’t get me wrong, there are a lot of down-to-Earth parents out there and we’re lucky to be friends with some of them. If only some parents wouldn’t attempt to ruin it for the rest of us who just want to show up, give our kids a creative and healthy outlet, maybe have some adult conversation and get on with the rest of child-rearing. Some parents are annoying, I stand firm on that.
Kids are gross.
My own kids included. I mean of course kids are cute, they’re funny and they smell good after a bath. But around that 1-year mark when the sweet baby smell wears off and they start really truly sweating, things get real. Feet stink in a way that only industrial quality bleach can remedy. But of course we can’t bleach our kids’ feet so they just keep on stinking. Snot mass-produces, bodily functions get more potent and their breath should come with a warning label. They’re constantly rubbing their hands on you, especially if you are wearing any color other than black. For some reason they start licking you. A lot. As many times as you pull off a wardrobe change, wipe noses, wash hands, and brush teeth, kids are still gross (yes, even cute kids).
Dance recitals should have mimosa bars.
I grew up spending many a day at dance recitals since I danced until I was 12 years old. Not that I was a mimosa drinker then (I have SOME class, come on now) but I always thought there should be some kind of draw for the parents at those things. Fast forward – I figure the solution should be mimosas, because don’t mimosas solve most problems? Particularly in the morning when an army of small ballerinas are running amok in a hot and crowded high school gym. This past May we attended our first dance recital as parents and I am confident in saying my pre-mom self was a genius (but sadly, no mimosa bar was present).
I hate highly dislike Barney.
As a child he freaked me out. As a teenager he creeped me out. As a non-mom I wanted to drop-kick him. Presently I’m a bit terrified my kids will actually want to watch the Barney show and I will have to be the evil mom who denies them that. Is it his voice? His purple-ness? His frustratingly catchy sing-a-long-songs? I don’t really know. But I really, really can’t handle Barney.
Moms who judge other moms are bizzare.
I never understood why becoming a mom should mean you get to judge how other moms do their mom-thing. So a mom wants/financially needs to stay home with her kid – more power to her. A mom wants/financially needs to go back to work – awesome. I’m not going to judge because I’m really just figuring this whole parenting thing out as I go. I don’t know what works for your kid, I barely know what works for my kids and some days I’m apparently clueless. As long as you’re not complaining to me about the situation you chose or will not do anything to change, I’m judgment-free and happy to co-exist with you. Don’t judge me because my kids go to day care and I won’t judge you because your kids don’t. My pre-mom self never could figure out the judgmental mom. These days if mom-judging is occurring in my vicinity, I will be the woman swiftly sashaying out of the room or park, fading away from conversation and never inviting the offender to drink wine with me.
Children’s toys are the coolest.
I can’t tell you how often pre-mom me offered to open any one of my niece’s new toys because I wanted to be the first to show them how it worked. Kids have seriously cool stuff! And everything I played with as a kid is now back in style, so Lila’s pretty stoked that I’ll play My Little Pony with her. There’s the Wii, there’s Twister, there’s really cool Lego’s and big soft blocks and glitterly markers and crafts and Nerf guns and puzzles and interactive books…the only problem is I get offended when my kids don’t want to play with me. Jerks.
A screaming child is the uncoolest.
You know the drill – your kid is screaming bloody murder and throwing a grade A fit in the grocery store/library/movie theater/anywhere and you want to crawl into a fetal position and hide somewhere – anywhere – before you have to deal with the non-parents who are looking at you thinking, “Control your child.” Whether you are the parent this is happening to or the childless bystander, it’s uncool. Sometimes parenting is all about leaving things up to a higher power and just taking a big humble leap into the grocery store/storytime hour/latest kids movie in the hopes you’ll all get out of there alive and not be asked to never come back.
Got anything you could add to this list?
Oh and if you want to laugh hard in agreement about a list of things people with no kids really DON’T know, watch this: