Before I stepped into the wild world of parenting, I had all the answers. I was the self-proclaimed expert on raising children. You know the type—those who don’t sport any remnants of snack time on their clothes and have never had a toddler sneak a booger into their hair while they struggle with the car seat straps. So, here’s a humorous look back at my pre-kid declarations and the reality check that followed:
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My children will never act out in public.
I envisioned well-behaved little angels gliding through stores. Instead, I’ve found myself in the cereal aisle, wondering if I could claim to be a random stranger’s nanny as my child unleashes a tantrum that sounds like a dinosaur is being chased. I even find myself admiring their acrobatics as they twist and thrash with a flair that defies both physics and common sense. -
I will never leave home looking like that.
Here I am, looking like I just rolled out of bed—because sometimes I actually do. Hair? What hair? Makeup? Nope! Teeth? Maybe… I might be a little rough around the edges, but hey, at least I remember my pants. -
My kids won’t eat junk food.
Guess what? My picky toddlers consider anything other than a sticker or crayon a miracle. If they pass on the green beans for chicken nuggets, it’s a victory worthy of a parade. I do sneak in a gummy vitamin or two to ease my guilt over their culinary choices. -
My house will never resemble a disaster zone.
My home currently resembles a Build-A-Bear explosion site. Toys and clothes are strewn about like confetti, and cleaning up while the kids are awake is akin to trying to mop a floor that’s still being used. The only way to achieve a clean house might just be to let it catch fire. -
I will never be late!
Oh, sweet naive me. The moment I need to leave the house, time behaves like a black hole. My kids move at a snail’s pace when it’s time to go anywhere—like they’re preparing for a marathon. And don’t even get me started on getting them dressed; it’s a hilarious circus act of trying to put shoes on the wrong body parts. -
I will never negotiate with my kids.
I thought negotiation was a sign of maturity. Turns out, it’s just a way to bribe my kids. If little Emma wants ice cream, she better finish her chicken nuggets first—or everyone else gets a treat. Call it what you want, but I’m just a savvy businesswoman in the parenting world. -
I won’t let my kids watch TV.
During those long winter months, TV becomes a mini-vacation. It’s a colorful, mesmerizing distraction that offers me precious moments of silence to collect my thoughts, or, let’s be real, to binge on snacks without interruption. -
I will never feel annoyed by my children.
Sometimes I engage in a game of hide and seek—where I hide and munch on my secret stash of candy while they look for me in all the obvious places. -
I won’t let my kids hinder my travel plans.
Going to the store now requires more preparation than a cross-country expedition. If our ancestors had toddlers on their journey west, they might have only made it to the next block before someone had a meltdown about forgetting a toy. We do travel, but let’s say I’m still processing those adventures in therapy. -
My kids will actually listen to me.
I’m convinced that listening isn’t part of early development. They hear my voice, sure, but it takes me sounding like an auctioneer before they respond. By the time they acknowledge me, I’ve probably sold a few tractors at a farm auction miles away.
Becoming a parent is a humbling experience, one that tests your patience, character, and endurance. It’s like surviving a winter in the Alaskan wilderness while being chased by hungry wolves—who, let’s hope, are keeping their boogers to themselves.
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In summary, my parenting journey has flipped my pre-kid convictions upside down. From tantrums in public to a chaotic home, it’s a wild ride filled with unexpected lessons and plenty of laughter.