Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Bandaids, Strippers and Prison: What do These Things Have in Common?

When I learned I was pregnant more than a decade ago, (now isn't that a scary thought?) there were many things I prepared myself for. I prepared for late night feedings, bowel mishaps, the Invasion of Barney, and even the loss of intimacy between my hubs and I. (Although, that last one didn't happen. Turns out watching me struggle to jam tiny bendable fingers into an impossibly small arm hole acted as somewhat of an aphrodisiac with my hubs. Who knew?)

I thought I had prepared for babyhood and then toddlerhood. I never looked much further beyond those years, frankly, because I didn't really think I would survive them.

Surprise! I survived. And they did too. (I thought about inserting a two out of three joke here, but even I could see the bad taste in that, especially with Oct. 21st looming like a funnel cloud on the horizon.) I digress. My point is, I am wholly unprepared for many aspects of raising older children. Especially older children on the brink of TEENAGEDOM.

This was never more apparent than last night when I was grating cheese for supper. As Fric was talking about what type of lip gloss Maxine gets to wear to school, and Emily has her very own cell phone and the scandalous tank top Brittany wore to school, I realized I wasn't ready for this stage just yet.

Then Frac came in and started moaning about some video game all the boys had which he didn't and it JUST WASN'T FAIR.

I'll admit it. I tuned them out. I started dreaming about this past weekend, when I was surrounded by attentive 007 look-a-likes, all fighting one another to buy me drinks and dance with me. (Well, okay, that didn't happen, but it was my dream, dear internet.) And just as my darling Boo came in to fight them all off in daring hand to hand combat, my own hand slipped.

Against the f*&king cheese grater. Which really f@$king hurt. Obviously, the Universe was teaching me a lesson (although I am unsure as to whether it was for ignoring my kids, daydreaming about hordes of men, putting my darling husband in imaginary danger or if it was just to watch what the hell I was doing with a cheese grater.)

So, after much cursing and moaning, I clutched my bloodied stump and went into the bathroom in search of the first aid products I keep in stock for just such an occasion.

Except there weren't any bandaids. Because my darling Fric and Frac have used them to patch up imaginary bumps and bruises. Apparently, at nine and ten, the urge to sport an unnecessary bandaid is still as strong as when they were five.

Which leads me back to the fact that I am totally unprepared for this stage of motherhood. I have no idea what to do with them once they've learned how to talk, walk, read and write.

So I did what any mom would do. I called my parents. And my dad (still in the hospital) gave me this sage advice:

As long as I keep my daughter off the poll, and out of the backseats, I've succeeded. And if I can keep my son out of jail, and his pants zipped up, I've done my job well.

Apparently, my parents had high aspirations for us.

Suddenly, a love affair of bandaids didn't seem so bad.

Thanks Dad, for the perspective. I needed something else to worry about.


Blogger Mrs. Chicky said...

Yes! Keep them off the pole and all their clothes on! Your father is truly a wise man.

Chapter one of "What to Expect - The Teen Years": Keeping your daughter off the pole and your son out of jail.

10:06 a.m.  
Blogger soleclaw said...

Ouchies! Grater injuries are the WORST. Perhaps even worse than severely gross paper cuts. Hope your finger is okay.

And your father is absolutely right. "Off the pole"...hilarious, yet so true these days. I'm so nervous about my daughter's future. Things can get worse for us in 10 years, or better. But I'm betting the world will only get worse. Better buy a nice chastity belt now while I can!

11:02 a.m.  
Blogger J. said...

True though.
But did yo ask him what to do about this new 'borrowing clothes' thing?
Because I'm now doing laundry for the neighbourhood.
And all that stuff I bought daughter? Is it at YOUR house?
Sheeeesh ...

12:10 p.m.  
Blogger Fidget said...

Chastity belts for all!

I'm still ignoring the fact that teenhood happens
I can ignore it at LEAST another 6 years

12:42 p.m.  
Blogger Her Bad Mother said...

Dude. Between the nippy incident and now the hand-grating, I am fearing for your continued well-being. Are you sure that WonderDog didn't have something to do with the latter? Like, maybe, *interfered* with that cheese grater?

And? Kids get MORE challenging?

Fuck me.

1:07 p.m.  
Blogger Old MD Girl said...

Well, I'd argue that even if you can't keep their pants on, you've succeeded if you don't find yourself raising your own grandkids three years from now. Keeping them out of jail, and out of major car accidents would be good too.

1:26 p.m.  
Blogger ECR said...

Oh, God...based on your dad's assessment, my own father royally f---ed up his first marriage and his first set of offspring. But his next try went a little more smoothly, which is good. My sibs and I have got that going for us.

2:21 p.m.  
Blogger Kristen said...

That is exactly what Tim says- "As long as we keep her off the pole, she turned out alright!" LOL.

2:42 p.m.  
Blogger Mrs. Chicken said...

Your dad is a wise man. I'm so glad he is on the mend!

Keep them off the grater, too!

3:00 p.m.  
Blogger jellyhead said...

Now you have me worried. Could you maybe wear some garden gloves for future grating? ;)

I am seriously worried about the teen years, because if I have ever DARED complain about small children problems, I am howled down by older folk who say the teen years are the WORST. I am very fearful.

3:33 p.m.  
Blogger kimmyk said...

Sorry to hear about your ouchie.

Yeah keep the girl off the pole. I was looking at my daughters friends web pages on MySpace and I kid you not. One of her not so close friends had a picture up with her wrapped around a pole with the caption "Poles, they're not just for strippin now". Like what's that mean?

7:38 p.m.  
Blogger Abandoned in Pasadena said...

You have a pretty good chance that Fric & frac will go thru their teen years unscathed and you will survive.

Just think about how you were as a teen and you will have no trouble coping with your children. Remember you are the experienced one and know all the tricks in the book.

Becareful with sharp things.

8:45 p.m.  
Blogger B.E.C.K. said...

So you'll willingly pierce your nipples, but a run-in with a grater gets to you? What's wrong with this picture? ;^)

I also fear the teenage years. My son already wants to negotiate everything, and I expect to be worn out by the time he's 12. Hmm. Maybe I should look into boarding schools...

8:52 a.m.  
Blogger Motherkitty said...

The worst thing, in raising teens, is when they come back at you with this crap about all the stuff YOU did as a youngster. Didn't you ever tell stories on yourself to amuse them?

Did dope? They will find out and throw it back in your face. Slept with someone prior to marriage? Can't hide that fact of life. Talked back to the parents? Hey, they will think if you got away with it, why can't they. Pierced your body or obtained a tat? So can they, even if you later disapprove or think they are too young.

The point is, lead by example and they will follow. (Isn't that like the lead line in Field of Dreams, "If you build it, they will come"?)

11:02 a.m.  
Anonymous Dana said...

I was just wondering if they have a book called "What to Expect: The Teen Years"....because Dawson is two and I'd like to be prepared.

You'll just have to pass on your advice to us....I'm clueless.

I remember when I was a teenager and I was terrible, I can't imagine how my own kids will be.

11:38 a.m.  
Blogger Daisydee said...

Your making me wonder if I really want kids...lol

Careful with that grater chicky!

5:44 p.m.  
Blogger creative-Type Dad (Tony) said...

Yup! Your Dad know's the basics.

grater - ouch!

1:04 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

mmm, I find it difficult to get past the fact that I was a teenage rebel when trying to instill values into my 12 year old daughter, a case of do as I say not as I did! "But mum, you had me at 18 and were not married" "shhh darling, we'll talk about this later..."

3:10 a.m.  

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