Pajamas and Coffee

Thanks for coming out from under the piles of wrapping paper to say hello today!

I would like to introduce my guest writer Linda (@WhateverGirlDC on twitter).

Please help me extend a great big Pajamas and Coffee welcome to Linda!

Biting the Parental Tongue

By @whatevgirldc (Linda)

Parenting is tough. Sure, even though you’re a walking zombie in the beginning, it’s fun when they’re babies. You can choose their clothes without them voicing opinions. Strangers can tell you how cute they are and pinch their cheeks without any objection. But as the years go by and kids learn to talk, sometimes it’s downright difficult. You could read all the advice columns you want, but you’ll still have times when you just don’t know what to do or say.

We’ve all heard that age-old expression, “kids say the darndest things.” And, believe me, they do. When this happens, as a parent, you’ll have to act fast and behave like a grownup – even though on many occasions, you’ll need to hold yourself back from laughing. Many articles have offered tips on how to answer certain types of kids’ questions and how to react to them. But, have you ever thought about how it would feel to answer your kids’ sensitive questions any way you want? To pretend just once your kids won’t remember what you say? I have. Several times. I call it “Parents Could Say the Darndest Things!”

I’ll never forget one of those moments, not too long ago. I was watching Deal or No Deal with my son when Howie Mandel decided to take a commercial break. Well, guess what popped up? A commercial about maxi pads. By the time I grabbed my universally worthless universal remote, my son turned to me and said, “Mom, I don’t get it. What are those for?”  I felt like saying, “Don’t worry, honey. Sanitary napkins aren’t something we’ll need at our next cocktail party.”  Instead, with my supermom, high-speed response mechanism, I quickly said, “Hey, let’s go to Chuck E Cheeses!” I’ve never seen my son put his shoes on so fast. The parenting lesson I learned: distraction really works.

I knew it was just a matter of time before another crazy question would be thrown my way. How would I dodge the next bullet? And, how piercing would it be? There was truly no way to prepare for the next one, which turned out to be a doozy. While I was driving to soccer practice, out of the blue my ever-inquisitive son asked, “Mom, what does fuck mean?” That f-bomb created an explosion in and around my car that even Mario Andretti couldn’t speed past. What I really wanted to say was, “I don’t know, but if you say it one more time, I’ll fucking kill you.” Instead, I bit my tongue while controlling the car and my temper. “Honey. I can’t talk right now. I need to concentrate.” That day, I swiftly earned some major safe-driver points. So many that my driver’s ed teacher would be proud. The parenting lesson I learned: cursing and driving don’t mix.

Several months went by and I had forgotten about these and other questions. Our daily routine of getting homework done, doing extracurricular activities, and getting ready for bed ran pretty smoothly. That is, until one day, when my son was putting on his pajamas. “Mom, what are balls for?” he asked. Wow, I thought. That’s a good one. And one I wanted to avoid for a few more years. If I did answer it, I could have said “Oh, those. They take the place of your favorite blanket. They’ll help you fall asleep.” Instead, I chickened out and said, “Go ask your father.” And off he went, in search of the answer while I wiped the sweat from my brow. The parenting lesson I learned: his dad has balls and I really need to grow a pair.

So, there you have it. I’m no expert and I learn as I go just like the rest of us. But the best (and only) advice I’ll give about parenting is: Keep a journal. Because when you’re 90 years old, wearing your own version of sanitary napkins, and sitting in the nursing home because your kids put you there, you’ll need something to make you laugh. That is, if you can find your bifocals.