My babies

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Budding artist

I want to apologize to all those parents out there about whom I have ever once thought, "What the heck are they doing with those kids? They have no idea how to raise them." Please forgive my arrogance. I only had thoughts like those before I had kids myself. And for all of you who have thought that about us, I forgive you. My mother tells me the above quote on a regular basis, and considering that she spent the last few months with us, I think it is fair. And she's my mom. She gets a pass.

Back when I knew all there was to know about parenting, back when I had no kids of my own, I was visiting with my friends Aileen and Mike. They had 2 young boys at the time. I think N was 4 or 5 and M was 3. Anyway, I was talking to Aileen at her dining table when M came streaking by. Now when I say streaking, I'm not trying to be creative with my words saying that he was running by. I mean streaking in the sense of running with no clothes on. But what was upsetting about the situation was that M's penis was all purple. I was worried. Aileen had seen it too and we both became concerned. She ran after him and after a few moments of tense coaxing, "M, let Mommy see. What happened to you baby?" He finally showed her what was wrong. There was a pause and I heard Aileen say, "M, what did Daddy say about using the permanent markers?" I think I was going to fall out of my chair. I loved how Aileen had kept totally cool. She didn't bust out laughing at the situation, but kept him on track and reminded him that he had done wrong. It was then that I knew that I had no idea what it would be like being a parent. Aileen was awesome.

But the best part was when Mike came home and Aileen said, "You'll never guess what M did with the permanant markers." And he said, "Oh no. Did he color his penis again?"

See this is what happens when you live with little crazy people. You start being able to predict the crazy things that they do. Like today, I had to remove fruit loops from the dining room light fixture. No, I don't know why or how they got up there. But I know that my days of only finding dead moths and dust in my light fixtures are over for a time.

I also know that crazy people will bicker over the most inane things. And they truly believe that if you just listen to their side of the story, you will advocate for them. That the injustice will be fixed. Today, there was a loud fight with tears and screeching about the color of flowers on the Lite Brite toy. I'm not kidding. I live with crazy people.

When Princess was younger, she used to hear me say that all the time. I'd mutter, "I live with crazy people." And on occasion, she'd say to her brother, "I live with crazy people, and you're one of them."

My sentiments exactly.

1 comment:

Kaya McLaren said...

You know, teachers feel the same way... like no one really knows until they're knee deep in it. Today I started crying all by myself in the classroom because the weight of caring for the little souls in my class in a system that wants to standardize them was overwhelming. And I needed a nap.