having your kid fall asleep at 5:00 pm in the car on the way home after a post-school frozen yogurt treat with his buddy, sleep through dinner, sleep through his regular bath/bedtime, and then wake you up at 2:00 a.m. wanting something to eat.
Parenting is also grumpily stumbling to the kitchen half-awake to heat up some pizza thinking bitchy, unfair, vile, hateful, unlovely thoughts like, “I bet if I worked M-F 8am to 8 pm and only had the weekends to party and have fun and be the ‘nice’ parent that MY life would be oh-so easy. Why do I always get the sleep-dysfunctional, acting-up kid end of the stick? Grumble mutter piss moan.” And then parenting is listening to your suddenly wide-awake sweet child (who has the motherwit/survival instincts to chirp guilelessly): “Mommy, I love you. You’re the best mommy in the world. I love you so much.” And luckily his words interrupt the bitchfest on endless loop in your brain.
Parenting is being so tired (is there any other state?) you put your head down on the kitchen table. And drift off for a split second.
And parenting is, when you wake up, thinking with much admiration how your kid is both truthful and cagey, and how you’re kind of in awe of his burgeoning Jedi Mind Tricks TM as you cut up a fresh cold peach for him to eat now that he’s done with his pizza.
Finally, parenting is stumbling back upstairs to sleepily brush his teeth and give him a sponge-bath with a face towel, especially his feet (last, of course), which look like they’ve been marinated in mud. Getting the jammies on, because in spite of all the departure from the regular routine, a line must be drawn between civilization and barbarity, and No Sleeping in Your Clothes Even Though You Just Did for the Past 10 Hours. And then parenting is collapsing into bed next to your kid, who’s starting to show disturbing signs of wanting to chitchat in the middle of the night and yet is yawning and saying he’s afraid of the dark.
Best of all, parenting is whispering “I love you” and sharing some kisses and hugs as first he whisper-sings the “ABC song” to put you to sleep, and then you whisper-sing the They Might Be Giants “Backwards ABC song” to put him to sleep:
Z Y X, Z Y X
W V U T
S R Q, S R Q
P O N M L K
J I H G F, J I H G F, J I H G F
E D C B A
E D C…B AAAAAAAA!
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
That’s parenting. Take heed.
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