Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Word of the day: advice
Many, many years ago, I potty-trained my first child. He was incredibly easy to train, and the one and only time he wet the bed, when he was maybe three and a half years old, he woke up and changed his own sheets and clothes and left the soiled articles in a neat little pile by the door. As precious as that was, I will throw out there that he set me up to have shockingly unrealistic expectations for my next three children, who happily pissed the bed well into their fifth and sixth years.
Many, many years after that, I encountered a newborn - my fourth - who slept so little that I was positive I was going to lose any sense of sanity I still had left. I went about 14 months without sleeping more than an hour or so at a time, and because of the pain associated with his chronic ear infections I also spent a good many nights pacing the house until the sun came up, holding him while we both cried. My husband worked two jobs at that time, at night and during the day, so unfortunately there wasn't much respite to be had.
Many, many years after those incidents, I think I have finally settled upon my most exasperating parenting moment. It's not the lack of sleep, or poop in places poop should never be, or terrible twos (which for me were always the terrible threes), or any of that.
It's the glorious moments after our little people learn to tie their shoes, and they are so proud of themselves that they insist upon being the one to tie their shoes, regardless of the fact that I needed to leave for work 5 minutes ago and or that we're late for baseball practice, and those darn loops just will not go together the way they want them to, and I stand over them feeling my heart race and biting my tongue and trying so, so hard to be patient while they obliviously work their fat little fingers in an astoundingly slow attempt to tie those shoes.
Those moments show my character. Good, bad, or ugly, it'll show when I am rendered utterly unable to do anything other than wait for a pair of little bitty hands to successfully tie their shoes, or I just break down and crack out the whiskey at 6:45 in the morning. Not really...but don't even pretend you haven't thought about that before too.
I guess what I mean to say is, just buy the damn Velcro shoes. Trust me. Buy the Velcro. You'll thank me in the long run.
Posted by Carri at 7:35 PM