Nothing could have prepared me for what being Dylan’s mom would actually mean. I knew there'd be diapers, nurturing, guidance, and so on. I've heard of the whole sacred, built-in love thing that brings parents to their knees that can't truly be understood until it strikes. I was even aware of the whole annoying factor new parents beam as they mistake celebrate insignificant events as monumental revelations of superior intelligence. I was ready for it! (My baby just tried to open the front door! He's so smart, he knows it's a door! Obviously he's a genius.) Color me guilty.
Still, the books, fellow parents, and the whole world left a lot out. It's not like they didn't want to prepare new parents such as myself. It just can’t be done. There’s no one-size-fits-all with kids, and I can prove it! Here’s a list of things I've learned on the job about what being Dylan's mom really means:
Being Dylan's mom means I will not be taken seriously… by him. Sure, I can say, “No, don't put your shoe in the dogs' water bowl!” But until I relocate the water, my words are merely a suggestion—a bad one.
Being Dylan’s mom means spending 15 minutes at daycare trying to convince my child that it’s time to go home. He likes to play the whole “I don’t know you” game that involves avoiding eye contact and running away upon my arrival. The chase is form of art.
Being Dylan’s mom means I can’t keep him from discovering things. So my plans to raise him as a water drinker have been challenged by his discovery of milk. Who gave Dylan milk?! No idea. But now? It’s all he wants. Pop! Goes the weasel.
Being Dylan’s mom means saying, “No cracker,” at least 40 times in a day because apparently, polly wanna cracker. Being Dylan’s mom means being woken up each morning to the sweet sounds of a toddler incessantly repeating, “Truck? Truck? Truck?”
Being Dylan’s mom also means learning accepting that one toy truck will never be enough. The kid knows he has two hands, therefore he needs two trucks. “Two? Two? Two?”
And of course, being Dylan’s mom means coming up with creative ways to pry those trucks out of his hands at the end of the day. If there are trucks in the bed, guess who’s NOT going to sleep?
Learning what it means to be someone’s mom is a lesson that just keeps on teaching. And despite knowing nothing, I’m actually a lot more prepared than I thought! Parents adapt, conform, teach, and referee, even when they don’t [think they] know how to. So when you see me with two trucks and a bag of crackers, trying to convince my son to drink water instead of milk, let me explain: Hi, I’m Dylan’s mommy. And ain’t no book gonna teach you that!
What does being a parent to your kid include that no one could've prepared you for? Please note: The freakier the better!
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