Kudos to Adam Mansbach on his runaway bestseller, "Go the F*** To Sleep", a hilarious read that details the frustrations all parents (with the exception of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, I'm sure) have experienced at bedtime. To be blunt, bedtime can be hell. To be more precise, bedtime can be f***ing hell. I was reminded of that last night when two of our four children managed to stay wide awake until 10:30, bombarding me from their beds with all sorts of excuses in an effort to prolong the inevitable:
"I'm thirsty."
"I'm not tired."
"I'm too hot."
"I had a bad dream."
"I need to pee."
"S/he (points finger at the other one) is being too loud."
And the list goes on (and on, and on!). Between my trips upstairs to beg & plead with Owen and Grace to just gothe fuck to sleep, in an effort to stop myself from seething in anger (and I was, I spend the whole day looking forward to bedtime, it's what keeps me going, people!), I thought of other book titles for the inevitable "F***, Parenting is hard!" series that I assume has already been picked up for a multiple motion picture deal (starring Johhny Depp, of course).
Leave my S*** Alone.
Apparently, what's mine is theirs. Not so, my little friends, not so. You would think that people who guard their own possessions with the ferocity of a rabid dog would get this, but it doesn't work that way, nosirree! We recently hosted a birthday sleepover for my oldest daughter, without my knowledge, my makeup (which I hardly ever use, but that's beside the point) was used to facilitate 'makeover time'. How well do you think ten year old girls treat shit that's not theirs? Not very well, as it turns out. What's mine is mine, leave it the f*** alone!
Flush the F***ing toilet already!
In an effort to conserve water use in our household, we've tried to teach our kids "If it's yellow, let it mellow, if it's brown, flush it down," emphasis on the word tried. What we actually seem to have taught them is "Don't flush the toilet until the toilet paper is level with the toilet seat, mom will clean it all up anyway." On a regular basis, the leaning tower of toilet paper is topped off with a turd, like a cherry on an ice cream sundae. A thoughtful touch, no?
Shut the F*** Up.
We all anticipate our childrens' first words with such excitement. First comes one word, then two, and before you know it, your little chatterbox has an ongoing case of verbal diarrhea that ensures you will never enjoy a single, solitary second of silence as long as your child is within earshot. It gets even better (er, worse) when you have more than one child (stereo!), and they all try toshout at you talk to you simultaneously, usually spouting a stream-of-consciousness soliloquy peppered with sobbing fits because you're listening to someone else and IT'S NOT FAIR!
Stop F***ing Fighting, You're Driving Me Crazy.
"I'm thirsty."
"I'm not tired."
"I'm too hot."
"I had a bad dream."
"I need to pee."
"S/he (points finger at the other one) is being too loud."
And the list goes on (and on, and on!). Between my trips upstairs to beg & plead with Owen and Grace to just go
Leave my S*** Alone.
Apparently, what's mine is theirs. Not so, my little friends, not so. You would think that people who guard their own possessions with the ferocity of a rabid dog would get this, but it doesn't work that way, nosirree! We recently hosted a birthday sleepover for my oldest daughter, without my knowledge, my makeup (which I hardly ever use, but that's beside the point) was used to facilitate 'makeover time'. How well do you think ten year old girls treat shit that's not theirs? Not very well, as it turns out. What's mine is mine, leave it the f*** alone!
Flush the F***ing toilet already!
In an effort to conserve water use in our household, we've tried to teach our kids "If it's yellow, let it mellow, if it's brown, flush it down," emphasis on the word tried. What we actually seem to have taught them is "Don't flush the toilet until the toilet paper is level with the toilet seat, mom will clean it all up anyway." On a regular basis, the leaning tower of toilet paper is topped off with a turd, like a cherry on an ice cream sundae. A thoughtful touch, no?
Shut the F*** Up.
We all anticipate our childrens' first words with such excitement. First comes one word, then two, and before you know it, your little chatterbox has an ongoing case of verbal diarrhea that ensures you will never enjoy a single, solitary second of silence as long as your child is within earshot. It gets even better (er, worse) when you have more than one child (stereo!), and they all try to
Stop F***ing Fighting, You're Driving Me Crazy.
The kids are at a point where they bicker constantly. If I had to break it down, I'd say for every one minute of sibling affection, there's approximately ten minutes of sibling rivalry. What do they fight about? Oh, the usual:
"She won't stop looking at me."
"She's breathing at me."
"She's copying me." (insert echo: "She's copying me.").
"She got more than me." (sidenote: kids have some sort of portion-related ESP that enables them to detect when someone else has more of something than they do. It's kind of impressive. Annoying and impressive).
Good times, I tell you. One day, I will let them fight each other to the death. I'm just kidding (or am I?).
I could go on (and on, and on!), but I'll stop now. I love our kids dearly (don't we all?), but nothing could have ever prepared me for just how annoying they can be. They're good kids, don't get me wrong, but they're kids, and they annoy me just as much as my siblings and I annoyed our mother (something that I know thrills my mother, because she tells me it does). I think that's why Mansbach's book has struck a chord with so many parents -- no matter where you come from, or how you approach parenting, we all face the same obstacles, it's certainly more fun laughing about it than crying about it!
Thanks for the laugh.I needed it. As I sithere painstaikigly typing on a keyboard withnear all the keys ripped off. Did I mention that I'm also wearing a capfilled withmayo to try to kill the lice on my new lesbian haircut? Fml!
ReplyDeleteI just read this out loud to my husband. Tears rolling down our cheeks. Thanks for the excellent laugh. I think I'll bookmark this to read when I'm having one of those days and need a laugh.
ReplyDeleteMy book would be called
ReplyDelete"Stop Holding Your Crotch and Go to the F#$%ing Bathroom Already"
-Tali
Heehee...this is hilarious!!! Heeheee...
ReplyDelete