Before I became a mother, I had all of these ideas (don’t we all?) about what I would and wouldn’t do. Now, that my daughter is two, I laugh – and sometimes cry – at how naïve I was. Things escape my lips that make me extremely glad I’m not in public.
Because sometimes, being a mom is just weird.
“Don’t stick that fork in your hoo hoo.”
Yes, you read that right. My daughter loves to be naked. We somehow termed her private parts her “hoo hoo,” and she likes to, you know, explore her body. Well, when she started poking around with a fork, this one just popped out. She looked at me like, “Why, mom?” Well, sweetie, just … no.
“Yes, you may have a lollipop for breakfast.”
“Candy will be a rare and occasional treat,” I told myself before I had kids. Ha. Ha. Ha. I find that though I’m usually the disciplinarian, I’m also sometimes the “anything goes” mom. Because really, is that the hill I want to die on? You’re only young once, and if she wants a lollipop for breakfast, by golly, she can have it. For today at least.
“Hee haw or Bubble Bubbies?”
This is code for “Sheriff Callie” and “Bubble Guppies.” And by code, I do mean baby talk. Nobody knows that when you have a child, you’re actually enrolling in a new language course.
“Please stop saying boobies.”
One day I was holding my daughter and she poked my breasts and started laughing. Yeah girl, those things gave you nourishment for the first seven months of your life, don’t make fun of them. I told her what they were called, and she now goes around the house poking herself in the chest saying, “Boobies, boobies,” and giggling. It’s almost like having a teenage boy.
“Don’t stick your fingers in your poop!”
If you haven’t been here, I applaud you. But seriously, sometimes diaper changing goes awry. Suddenly, it’s on your arm, it’s on the changing table, and then she sticks her fingers down there and is like, “Yes! A new art medium! I wonder what it tastes like.”
See, we’ve all been there. Your child is doing something, and it pops out of your mouth before you know it and you think, “Did I really just say that?”
But that’s the joy of parenting. It gives you anecdotes and blackmail ammunition for later on down the road. Until then? I suggest you keep a journal so you don’t forget any of it.