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Parental Lunacy

Before my husband and child, back when it was just me, things were a lot different.  I used to have stylish clothes, and listened to current music.  Conversations with friends were different too.  I might call someone up to let them know of the announcement of the Lollapalooza line up, or we might discuss the newest New York Times bestseller, or that there was a new Betsy Johnson store opening in the mall.  These days, I rarely get to read a current book, and I certainly can’t keep up with new music artists.  The worst part about this process of change, is that I utter things that I never, ever would have thought I would have any reason to say out loud.

The things I say center mostly around my five-year-old. 

“We do NOT spit on our friend’s heads in the lunchroom”, I say after he has gotten into trouble for initiating a spitting game.

“We have to keep ALL our body parts to ourselves, our hands AND our lips.”  This was after  a call from the teacher, informing me that Connor was bursting with love and kissing his friends (on the arm, or back, or wherever was convenient).

“I know you love the dog, but that doesn’t mean we open our mouth and let the dog lick our tongue.”  We’re still working on this one.

“Did you just lick that play doh?  Why in the name of all that is holy would you lick play doh when you just had a snack?”  Notice that I have decompensated to the point that I put play doh on the same level as an actual, edible snack?

“If you keep screaming my head is actually going to explode right off my shoulders, and you will have to clean up all the pieces.  Is that what you want.”  No, he does not want to clean it up, but did want the candy as bribery to stop screaming.

I wonder if I will ever get the brain cells back that I’ve lost, or if this lunacy will be a permanent state.  I hope to someday regain the faculties to at least have adult conversations that don’t involve body parts or fluids.  But maybe I should aim lower and just hope to read a book for fun again someday soon.


About Flannery

Kid, husband, dogs, my mother, full-time job, maximum stress, minimal relaxation...sooner or later I had to vent. AND we moved from California to Texas. I could start a whole other blog about that.

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