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If there is anything that can get
you “up in your feelings” (Hey, I can talk like a cool cat too!), it’s
parenting. Good feelings, bad feelings, tired feelings….and more tired
feelings. Exhausted feelings. Sleep deprived coma feelings. But enough about
how much sleep you’ll never have once becoming a parent, this post is about
feelings.
From day one there’s a wide variety
of emotions over your child. Love for this tiny new miracle, rapture at
counting their itty-bitty toes and fingers, relief that they are finally here,
and utter terror because no one prepared you for this. Why did I think I knew
what I was doing? I can’t take care of this incredibly small and fragile human.
Where is my handy, dandy book that has every answer to every parenting question
that I may ever have? Where are the experts to shadow me and make sure that I
don’t screw them up? For the love of all that is holy, WHERE IS THE BUBBLE WRAP?!?!?!
Fortunately, we are mostly too
tired to function during the early weeks. This anesthetizes us to the parental
worries that plague us in our (brief) conscious moments and makes us
reflexively care for the precious bundle of joy. By the time we realize we have
been on auto pilot, we also realize, “Hey, maybe I CAN do this after all.” (You’re
fooling yourself of course. We all are. None of us know what we are doing. Some
of us just fake it better than others. Some of us medicate with chocolate cake
and coffee. Fine, It’s me. I’m some of us.)
As they grow, learning how to walk
and talk, they’ll add a wider and more complex variety of emotions to your
repertoire. You’ll experience new awesome feelings like frustration! Immense pride! Gritting your teeth while
practicing deep breathing as you try to teach yourself to be calm. Mentally
counting to ten when your sweetest little angel tries your patience. Fortunately,
it only happens once every…. hour or so. Every day. From ages two through….
well, I’ll let you know when it finally stops over here.
Once they start school, you’ll
learn to become good friends with guilt (Am I spending enough time with them?
Am I feeding them enough vegetables? Should I be reading to them more? Are they ahead socially thus making their introvert parent have to mingle at boisterous gatherings? Shudder.), understand how frustration matures into fully formed
exasperation, and find the value of alone time to recharge your batteries. Even
if it’s just a two minute mental breakdown in the hall closet while you inhale
half a package of chocolate chip cookies.
The teen years bring tons more of
that exasperation along with fun new emotion combos. Like annoyance love. How
is it possible to be SO ANNOYED by someone that you love SO MUCH? (Oh, it’s possible
honey. And your teenager is up to the challenge of showing you how.) Disgusted
pride. How can socks smell THAT BAD after you’re bursting with pride that your
kid played an awesome game of (sports game inserted here). (Oh my god. The
stench is truly abominable. Did something die in your shoes? Are you sure? No,
no, don’t bring them in the house. Just leave them on the porch. The neighbor’s
porch.) And of course, the classic and time honored “exhaustipation guilt”,
when you’re too tired to give a crap but usually feel guilty that you’re too tired
to give a crap, which usually results in an endless loop. Thankfully, it only
lasts 21 to 60 years or so.
Yup, our kids can tug at our
heartstrings and dance on our last nerve. Sometimes at the same time. (That’s a
talented kid there. You should be so proud of their skills!) They test us by
seeing how fast we can move when we see them put something in their mouth that
we know they aren’t supposed to have. They push against our boundaries, testing
our patience. They make our grinch hearts grow three sizes…and then shrink
again when we find out they broke that vase and lied about it. In short,
parenting isn’t for the faint of heart.
But, and I’m just spit balling
here, has anyone thought that newborns should come with a parent size
prescription of Xanax? Asking for a friend.
Need even more mayhem? Find me
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Want to send me a personal note, a comment, or share one of your funny parenting stories? Misery loves company so send me your worst! AND your best! To: modernmommayhem@gmail.com
