Monday, September 9, 2013

A Parent Report: Things kids don't know but should know.



So hey what’s up how are ya? Long time so speaky. Sorry about that. I’ve been a tad busy. Running from here to there. Buying this and that. Getting ready for back to school and remembering what it’s like to have a routine. 

I’m totally on board with the kids are kids and let them be kids because they are kids mentality. But sometimes kids do, say and act in ways that is typical kid behavior but it annoys the ba-goobers outta me. Am I expecting too much from them? Not expecting enough? I’m not sure exactly but the cure is probably a cross between Xanax and an early bedtime. 

There are just some things kids don’t understand but should start understanding real quick before I lose my ever lovin mind:

Flush the &*%$ toilet! No really. This handle has a purpose. Explore it, embrace it, utilize it! Back in the pioneer days when kids had to dig a hole to take a dump I bet they would sacrifice 7 squirrels for a device that made their dookie disappear. Take advantage of the technology guys! 

Doors don’t shut themselves. Maybe somewhere in your dreams in a land far far away you had an imaginary best friend who followed you around and their only imaginary life purpose was the shut the door after you opened it. But in this dimension that imaginary friend was hit by a train in Subway Surfers and died along with the dog and officer so please, when you open the back door, front door, side door, up door, down door, ANY damn door, please shut it. Because if I have to get up and shut it for you ONE more time, I will be locking it!

The term “It’s time to go” doesn’t mean ok now go get your shoes on, or get your backpack ready, or brush your teeth. It means that the time has come, the deadline has expired, the warnings are done. It’s not like I walk in your room, wake you up and say ITS TIME TO GO GO GO! No, I give you a sufficient amount of time to dilly dally AND get your crap together. Mama knows you are tired. Mama knows you don’t wanna go to school. Mama knows you hate wearing socks, and hate brushing your teeth, and can’t find your shoes and need your folder signed. Mama knows all of this. Mama just don’t care. So please, do the crap we remind you to do, WHEN we remind you to do it to avoid the morning decent into Yell-ville, USA. 

Why is it when we are driving that is when you want all of our undivided attention? If I divide this attention we could possible ram into a semi-truck, flip over and perish. Seeing you cross your eyes is not worth our lives. Show me later. Actually, stop crossing your eyes. My mom told me they might stick that way and I’m not sure if that’s true or not but let’s not find out. A brief list of things we can’t do while driving: look back at you, look at that, open it, close it, re-buckle, tie it, un-tie it, fix it, fold it, wipe it, smell it. (Unless it’s an air born smell) Pretty much when I’m driving, don’t ask me to do anything else but drive. 

Spare us the details guys. Really. We don’t need to know what you were wearing, where you were standing, who was with you, who said what, and how it went down. Lately this is how Logan tells me about his day.
Today. At school. Uh, uh, uh, uh, in my class. With my teacher. And my friends. Uh, uh, uh, uh, where you take me in the morning times. Uh, and you drop me off. Yeah there. I I went outside. With my friends. And uh, uh, uh my friend told me to be quiet. And uh, uh, uh, uh it was hot. And uh, the teacher said come on. So we all went outside. And I fell down. 

Parents 110% DO NOT CARE who played with what or who had it first or last. If you were part of the playing, you need to partake in the cleaning up. That’s it. As soon as we announce its time to clean up the kids begin giving us an itemized summary report of which toys they actually played with and how long they played with each toy. And why that kid should put it away because technically they played with it more. Really, I don’t give a flying flap jack. Just scoop up every single damn toy and put it in the box. We aren’t going to have a trial with a 12 man jury to discuss who played with Buzz and who didn’t play with Donatello. 

Give me a break. Or a drink. Or both. Yes, both.