I was under the impression that when I became a mom I would magically know all the right things to do and all the perfectly worded and accessible answers to all the tough questions kids could throw at me.
Well, I’ve been a mom for more than a year now, it still hasn’t happened, and I’m beginning to suspect it never will. There are so many little things that kids do to throw you off… changes in sleep habits, tendencies towards putting strange things in their mouths/doing odd things to other children/licking wall paper… and I had been confident that as long as I stayed chill, was responsive to my childs needs, and tried really hard (because I’ve been under the impression I could do anything I wanted as long as I tried really hard, thanks dad) then all the solutions to all the problems and conundrums of parenting would be blatantly apparent to me. They’d probably be whispered in my ear by the magic parenting fairy (who I used to think was beautiful, wore an apron, and always had band aids in her purse but not I’m guessing probably just looks wicked sleep deprived, has peanut butter in her hair, and is still secretly wearing maternity jeans when her youngest is a year and a half).
Not to mention, as the days fly by and it’s getting closer and closer to the era when all those tough questions will start spouting out of her mouth I’m starting to panic. Where are all the perfect pithy answers that I’m suppose to have? You know, the ones I have every time a child asks me a tough question that the kids will remember forever, looking back fondly as “mom’s wisdom”… the ones that will probably be put into the dialogue of a Lifetime Original Movie and be so profound they make it onto the commercials. Those. The ones I’m suppose to have… where the hell are they?
I don’t have any of it. The answers to how to handle the fact that Verona has decided she won’t go to bed before 10, or that she keeps trying to fit Barney’s whole nose in her mouth (her version of a kiss), or that if I find her searching the playground for a piece of dog poop to play with one more time I’m going to… hell, I don’t even know that. And I don’t have the answers to the tough questions either… when she asks me where babies come from instead of some beautiful response about two people loving each other I’ll most likely reply “from someone’s uterus.”
The bright side is that the one thing I have figured out is that I’m pretty sure all the other parents, the ones who try so damn hard to convince me they do have all this stuff figured out… they don’t either. In the end I’ve decided that parenting is like religion… the people who claim to know for sure are the last ones you should listen to. So keep staying up till 10 Verona! Put Barney’s entire head in your mouth if you can! It’s not gonna hurt you and we’ll figure it all out eventually. And while you’re at it, bring on the tough questions, because at the end of the day it’s completely true that “someone’s uterus” is exactly where babies come from.