When it comes to parenthood, you should never say never
“My kids will never do that.”
“I’m never going to be that kind of mom.”
If you have lady parts, chances are you’ve said these things at least once. The childless and moms-to-be usually have lofty ideas about child-rearing. They are usually wrong and eat their words later. Here are four “nevers” that actually came out of my mouth at one point.
“I will never look like that.”
Motherhood won’t interfere with my fashion choices. I’ll continue to be hip and lipsticked upon exiting my house. I won’t be one of those mothers who drops the kids off at school in pajama bottoms with visible remnants of yesterday’s mascara. My nail polish will never be chipped and yoga pants will be reserved for actual yoga. Those othermothers may see the need for comfortable shoes and the “natural” look. I will never be one of them.
While I still make a reasonable effort not to look like a hag in public, my bar for everyday cuteness is lower. I usually manage lipstick, although I don’t remember the last time I used a mirror to put it on, so it usually ends up decorating other parts of me besides my mouth. I don’t drop my kids off wearing visible remnants of yesterday’s mascara because chances are, I didn’t have time to put on makeup yesterday.
And, while not the norm, I did once drop my kids off in pajama pants and a sweatshirt, with my uncombed hair under a ball cap. My husband’s rain slicker completed the ensemble. It wasn’t raining but it helped hide the fact that I wasn’t wearing a bra.
“My house will never look like that.”
There will be no Leggo minefield running down my hall. There won’t be a plastic tub filled with soap scum and headless, naked Barbies in my bathroom. Guests will be comfortable sitting on my couch to enjoy a glass of wine without having to check whether or not they will be sitting in part of what used to be a banana.
They won’t be greeted by the eyesores of ugly, plastic toys in our Zen living space. We will have vintage wooden toys that provide the appropriate amount of mental stimulation while contributing to the aesthetically pleasing environment in our home.
Uh…yeah. Come to my house today and it looks like the plastic toy fairy threw up in every room. And while I strive for my living room to be a comfortable and smushed food free place to hang out (still best to check before you sit), your wine will most definitely be served up in a plastic wine cup. It’s just how we roll now.
“My kids will never eat that.”
I’ll never be one of those moms that fixes separate meals for the kids. We’ll sit down together every night as a family for proper meals at a proper table. Ramen noodles? Anything made by Chef BoyArdee? Not for this family. My kids will feast on organic pasta and processed foods will never touch their lips, ever. If we introduce them to the “right” foods when they’re little, they’ll grow up learning to appreciate nutrition.
Yes friends, I was on crack. Not really, but I might as well have been. I remember looking in to my cupboards shortly before Doodlebug’s adoption in 2012. I gazed with satisfaction upon the spaghettio-free shelves, thinking “my little darling will learn to love gnocchi with Asiago cheese sauce. He’ll have none of that blue box nonsense.” Last week, we had scrambled eggs and Diet Coke for dinner because someone forgot to go to the store to buy staples (like Spaghettios and Ramen). I won’t say who.
“I will never be the kind of mom who has to resort to use of electronic entertainment to force good behavior in public.”
My children will sit quietly in the grocery cart and won’t need to be pacified by Angry Birds or any gizmo made by Apple to get through a shopping trip. I will teach them to hold the coupons without wrinkling them or getting them out of order. We will be “that family” who can coexist with other restaurant goers and appreciate a fine dining experience at a young age (and by fine dining, I mean a place with table cloths.)
Yeah, not so much. Taking my kids to the grocery store is a last resort, period. If I’m forced to take them shopping, there is no couponing going on, period. Don’t ask me how two four-year olds can turn coupons in to weapons. They just can. We were once “that family” who sat in a nice-ish restaurant next to a child-free couple obviously on date night. They didn’t glance our way once…because our kids were engrossed in their tablets. Go me.
“I might break every single one of my ‘I never’ rules, but I will never, ever, ever, drive a minivan.”
While a seats-8 vehicle with a built-in DVD player does not yet grace my driveway, I’ve succumbed. We’re officially on the minivan hunt. So, if you have any opinions on the Odyssey versus the Caravan or maybe just a shoulder to cry on while I mourn the loss of the lass bit of my hipness, give me a call.
This post was originally published on my blog, http://www.rippedjeansandbifocals.com. If you have enjoyed reading this, stop by for more stories about post adoption life from the older mom perspective and other random crap.