Three Things No One Tells You About Parenthood

bobby posting:

Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I was just a happy husband with a pretty, pregnant wife.  The months were zipping by and the clock to parenthood was ticking like a time-bomb.  I was both desperate for help and sick and tired of the help I was getting.   I even wrote a post here on Via about wanting real advice from real Dad’s…and I wrote a post over at the Harrisonian about just being ready for everything to finally happen already.  Man, how time changes.

Truth be told, I’m a ridiculously happy and grateful father and husband.  I have an incredible child and a remarkable wife who has over the past year or more has transformed seamlessly and effortless into an unbelievable mother.  All that being said, there’s still a few things I’m a little miffed about.  Like these three things that no one told me about.  I guess some things you just have to learn on your own, though.  Maybe that’s just me.  I’ve been told before that my head is rather hard.  And big.  But that’s a whole other post…

– –

Three Things No One Tells You About Parenthood

1 / Tongue Twisters

I’m good with words.  Have been as long as I can remember.  But I’m even better at talking.  My parents could tell you that.  I remember my step-father asking me at a young age if I just liked to hear myself talk.  I think I spent about five minutes responding to him just to hear myself talk.  I thought it was funny.  Not sure he received it as well.

But somewhere along the line of being a Dad myself and trying to teach my son words here and there, I’ve found a real inability to finish sentences completely.  Whether it’s at home with the boy or around my friends, my brain shuts off.

Let me make it concrete for you.  I’m approaching my friend, Jacob, the other day.  As I’m about to say hi, I can’t decide whether or not to say “bro” or “bud”.  So what comes out?  “What’s up brud?”  Brud?  Are you kidding me?  Let’s just say spellcheck here on the blog isn’t too thrilled with my word choice there.  A little red line’s telling me I made a mistake.  Those little red lines are showing up more and more.  And I can’t do anything about it.  My brain’s freezing.

That’s not the first example.  It won’t be the last.  Can I blame it on the boy?  Of course.  Come on…I was great before.   You know it’s true.  If you disagree, call me.  We’ll talk.  Or I’ll talk.  You’ll enjoy listening.  I promise.

2 / Crazy People

When your child’s sleeping peacefully in the backseat of the car and you just have to run inside the video store real quickly to drop off your movie, I’m talking a 1-minute drop off here, you realize the line that separates you from the crazy parents that end up on the evening news is really much smaller than you are comfortable with.  I’m talking paper-thin.  Razor-thin.  Beyond tempting.  More so than I ever want to admit.  Wake up a sleeping baby?  Forget it.  We’ll just return the movie another time.  Even if it leads to a late fee.

The same goes for yard work outside while the boy’s napping inside.  Can I just leave a window cracked to hear him if he wakes up?  See…look at me.  Asking questions that may get me on the evening news.  I’m telling you, it’s tempting.

3 / Wet Diapers

Okay, I was fully aware and prepared for dirty diapers.  I had built up the horrid stench so much in my head that the first bad diaper I faced was far better than anything my nightmares could have produced.  Reality struck, and it didn’t stink nearly as bad as I thought.  In fact, give me a dirty diaper any day of the week.  Really.

But a wet diaper?  Wait.  Let me clarify.  Not just any wet diaper.  Not just a drop here or there.  I’m talking a slept-great-all-the-way-thru-the-night-diaper that’s carrying about four pounds of urine in it.  Soggy bottoms.  A diaper so wet and heavy that just looking at it causes the gag reflex.  Now you want me to hold this thing?  As it flops in your hands and squishes and slides, you realize that this is rock bottom.  Dignity out the window.  Not that there was much left as it is.  I’m telling you, the wet ones…the really, really, really wet ones…are way worse than anything else.  And no one tells you that.  Just soaked.  Just wrong.

– –

Well there you go.  That’s my list.  So far…

Any parents out there wanna add to it?  I’m all ears.  Would love for you to step up and tell me I have no idea what’s to come.  Because I want to know.  I don’t want to find out.  The hard way.  Again!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: