No one told me these things would become my truths as a parent. Or maybe they tried to tell me but I didn’t GET IT until I had kids. And now I look at young couples and say things like, “Oh, just wait. You won’t know love until you have children,” and they say “I’m sure.” And I think, oh you really have no idea. You don’t even know. You don’t even know. But you will. Just like I did. Sometimes you just have to live it to know it.
No one told me that having children would feel like having my heart outside of my body, walking around, making decisions on its own, subject to the craziness of the world.
No one told me that love for my children would feel like blood in my veins, constantly pumping and flowing.
No one told me that being a mom is like being in junior high again, complete with the clicks and gossip.
No one told me how much more fun Halloween, Christmas, birthdays and the zoo are as a parent.
No one told me how stressful it is to throw a successful birthday party.
No one told me that the best part of ice cream before dinner is not because ice cream is better than spaghetti but because your kids will think you are the coolest.
No one told me that I would be the one doing most of the cleaning, laundry and cooking. And that these tasks feel like you are trying to dust a house that is swept up in a tornado.
No one told me that I’d be puked on, peed on and occasionally pooped on. And that eventually I wouldn’t even bat an eye when it happens. I may even still go to Target in said clothes.
No one told me how tired I’d be. Oh my gosh.
No one told me that I would accidentally coordinate my outfits to match my kids.
No one told me I’d have to relearn math. Shocking. You really don’t need geometry. I knew it.
No one told me that I would feel unsettled unless all of my children are in the same room with me. Unless it is the bathroom. I just want 2 minutes to myself then.
No one told me that being a mom means I will feel like I am constantly living in a barrel of octopuses. Someone is always hanging on me.
No one told me that I would be judged for every single decision I’d make as a mom. Going back to work, staying home with a sick kid, the clothes they wear, how they wear their hair, you name it. Everyone has an opinion. And none of them actually matter.
No one told me I'd have to be a walking encyclopedia. So many questions.
No one told me that the word “lice” would literally strike terror in my heart.
No one told me that I’d repeat the phrase “fuck it” multiple times a day. In my head of course (most days.)
No one told me that my kids wouldn’t be invited to parties just because I didn’t become friends with the parents.
No one told me that some of my favorite people I would meet are my kids’ friends’ parents.
No one told me that I would still feel like I should be a size four, even though I am much older and have had two kids. Excuses.
No one told me that I would be more invested in middle school sports than I am for college athletics. And I love college athletics.
No one told me that the best part of my day is lying in bed with my kids reading to them. And I get to do this every day. Just please no Magic Tree House. Give me Captain Underpants over Jack and Annie any day.
No one told me how awful kids cartoons would become. I just found one called The Day My Butt Went Psycho. I rest my case.
No one told me how awesome kids’ books really are.
No one told me that I’d see hope for the future because of my kids.
No one told me that PG movies from the 80’s are really R rated movies today. Oops.
No one told me how little sleep I can function on. It takes a few days before you get delusional. If you aren’t there yet, then you are doing good.
No one told me that I would become attached to my kids’ favorite stuffed animals too.
No one told me that parenting is like Fight Club – the only rule is that there are no rules.
No one told me that everyone is doing a great job, even if it is the complete opposite of what I’m doing.
No one told me that I still need 8 hours of sleep to function properly. Unfortunately, I don’t know what that feels like any more. You can be Super Mom but the basic rules of being a human still apply. Good luck with that.
No one told me that I’d get selfish with my time with my children, not wanting to share them with anyone else when we are all home.
No one told me that I’d learn how to like Brussel sprouts because my kids like them. Lima beans are another story. My kids don’t even know they exist.
No one told me that I’d miss my kids every day I’m at work, even 13 years after my first was born.
No one told me that I’d go to work just so I could feel competent once a day.
No one told me that I would honestly never get tired of talking about my kids. And I only
sort of feel bad for becoming one of “those” people.
No one told me that while glitter is very pretty, do not let it into your house. Glitter is the craft cockroach. Once it’s there, it will never go away. It will live on after the apocalypse.
No one told me that I’d never get enough down time or self-care to feel like a refreshed adult again. Two hours of quiet will not fill this deficit. It’s okay to not be miraculously refreshed just because you got a pedicure or a 20-minute nap.
No one told me that I’d learn so much from my kids. Thank goodness because I missed most of my history classes.
No one told me that once I had kids I literally would never have money again. What did I do before kids? Burn my extra cash for heat?
No one told me about snuggles. Snuggles could bring world peace.
No one told me that even if I am out with friends, all I think about are my kids.
No one told me that I would become someone who doesn’t mind paying hundreds of dollars
for extracurriculars. Well, maybe I don’t love it but I don’t bat an eye anymore.
No one told me that I would feel like I'm losing my mind most of the time. I want to be around my kids 24/7, yet I need a break. I want to stay home with them forever and I want to go to work.
No one told me that an extra cup of coffee solves everything in the short term. It either wakes you up or gives you a brief moment to think. Sometimes that's all you need.
No one told me that I would learn which wild animals are more prone to rabies. FYI, provoked ground squirrels (emphasis on provoked) usually don’t have rabies, even if they bite you. This lesson was brought to you by the ER. I’ve just saved you $500.
No one told me that I would never know what I’m doing. Ever again.
No one told me that you could do anything to me and I wouldn’t notice. But the moment you involve my kid, I will lose my shit.
No one told me that I would have a firm knowledge on which weekend walk-in clinics have x-ray machines. Tip: only use the walk-in clinics with x-ray machines.
No one told me that my children would become my legacy. And I’m okay with that. That is enough.
No one told me that no matter how hard you try to avoid it, you will be able to sing Raffi songs verbatim. Down by the bay, wear the watermelon grow, my ass.
No one told me that I’d be able to intelligently discuss ear infections, respiratory viruses and the virtues of different over-the-counter medicines.
No one told me that I’d miss the baby stage. It pulls my heart out of my chest.
No one told me that I’d love the teenage stage. So so enjoyable.
No one told me that I really would not be able to remember life before kids. Seriously. What did we do? Watch black and white tv and go for walks? I don’t remember!
No one told me that when my pediatrician retired, I’d feel it like a loss in the family.
No one told me that I’d start considering canned green beans as part of a healthy dinner. I do draw the line at ketchup. This isn’t the Reagan era.
No one told me that my kids really would be more technologically savvy than I am. And I’ve learned to embrace it because I just don’t have the time to keep up. Plus it’s nice to have little tech wizards readily available.
No one told me I wouldn’t be able to breath if I don’t know exactly where my kids are at all times. Don’t get me started on public restrooms with boys. I literally sweat. Especially if I think they are going number 1 and it ends up being number 2. There should be a mom waiting area for the men’s bathroom.
No one told me I’d have to talk about poop, pee and farts so much. See above. Ugh.
No one told me that I would wake up in the middle of the night in a panic attack when I realize my kid is going on a field trip to the zoo that day and what if he is taken by a stranger. It takes everything in me not to wake them up right then to cover Stranger Danger again.
No one told me that my nightmares would change to horrible things happening to my children.
No one told me that I wouldn’t think twice about getting my kids’ oxygen masks on first before mine in case of an aircraft emergency. I know what they say. Tell that to my mom instinct.
No one told me how hard it would be to teach someone to tie their shoes or blow a bubble with gum.
No one told me how much fun coloring is.
No one told me that some of my favorite movies would be Pixar. Inside Out’s Bing Bong makes me cry every time.
No one told me that travel wet wipe packs would become a permanent fixture in my car, years after we left the diaper stage.
No one told me that parenting every single day is different. And once I learn how to deal with one age, it changes.
No one told me parenting would be so much fun and crushing at the same time.
No one told me to stop taking everything so seriously. The only way through parenting is with a strong sense of humor. Laughing is always a better first reaction over yelling or panicking.
No one told me that I’d try my best and fail constantly. And that’s okay.