By Heather O.
Sometimes I wish I were still single. No, not because I don’t love my husband, or anything like that. It’s not because I was really that wild about dating, either. I mean, who wants to go back to the meat market that is the Single’s Ward? No, I want to be single again because it was then that I knew everything about children.
When I was single and childless, I would look at other mothers and think, “I will never do that. Why do they do that? Can’t they control their children?”
Here are some examples of things I said, single and childless, I would never do when I had children:
My child will never eat hotdogs.
My child will never watch T.V.
My child will only eat organic foods.
My child will never drink soda.
My child will never want to be dressed in any kind of character clothing, because he will simply not be exposed to that kind of commercialism.
And I will never, never, give in to my child’s silly demands for a specific cup at dinner. I mean, who does that?
Now that I am a mother, and no longer know everything, here are some examples of things my child does:
My child eats hotdogs so often that he knows which brand he likes the best (the “green ones”, FYI).
My child has seen “Finding Nemo” so many times that he has it memorized, almost word for word.
My child has eaten many a Chicken McNugget, which I’m pretty sure has no ingredient that even vaguely resembles something organic.
My child woke me up this morning, carrying a bottle of soda and a sippy cup, asking for the soda to be put in said sippy cup. At 8am.
My child’ s favorite shirt is his yellow Batman shirt. He wore it for 3 days straight once, and cried for about 10 minutes when I finally pried it off his stinky little body to wash out 3 days worth of grime. At my sister-in-law’s wedding, he refused to get in the car to go in his nice church outfit until we put the Batman shirt on over the church clothes and promised him he would only have to take it off for the pictures.
My child drinks out of a different cup every evening, according to whim and mood. He also has to choose what kind and color straw goes with the cup. This is non-negotiable.
I have been told by my sisters that they are watching with glee as I frantically eat all the words I ever flung at them in the name of good parenting as I raise my own son. They feel mollified. Plus, they all have kids older than my son, so they have already gone through it, and get to giggle as they watch me bribe my son to eat oatmeal with a promise of a cookie right after breakfast. They’ve all been there.
So sometimes I long for the days when I knew it all, told everybody I knew it alll, and didn’t have to put my money where my mouth was. Yes, the glory days of ignorant, arrogant singlehood. Plus, when you’re single, you get to sleep in a lot more. I could use a little more omnescience AND some extra shut-eye.
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