Before becoming a parent, there were things that I just couldn’t deal with. You know the stuff I’m talking about – body fluids, attitude, life.
The more I get into this parenting thing, the more I realise that I am a helluva lot more tolerant than initially thought….. Adulting is rough, but yeeeoow, parenting can be bullshit tough.
In no particular order, I have learnt that I am now accepting of the following (noting that my standards have dropped dramatically):
Poo. Not like Winnie the Pooh, but that other type. It will be discussed, it will be smeared, it will break out of it’s soft nappy shell, it will be smelt from the neighbours house. I have only vomited once from the present in my son’s nappy, and I consider that a win thus far in my motherhood game.
Cold hot drinks. Get used to it. For at least a year. And buy a microwave if you don’t have one, so you can reheat it 463673 times before forgetting where you put it and then make a new one.
Cold meals. Hot dinner? Ha! Refer to the above.
No personal space. This is showering, peeing, sleeping, walking, folding (that’s a whole other matter in itself… 😐 ) thinking. No personal space. Think of your shadow cutting off your arm and attaching throwing it out the window, because there’s something using one side of your now permanently wonky body.
Kiss goodbye to the perks. Sorry boobs, but you’re now out of the game and require all the support possible.
Tantrums and attitude. Yep, they start earlier than the ‘terrible two’s’. Harley started throwing down his demands at 10 months. He folds in half on the floor, then rolls onto his back and screams. Lets not start on the 7 year old that thinks he’s the man of the house. I never thought I would give up on “talking” to my kids, but really, there’s a certain part of me that has to walk away before World War III kicks off in my home.
Clean floors. Nope. No chance. My OCD dies a little more each day (thankfully).
Protectiveness. I am like a fucking Rottweiler about myself now, and will speak my mind. Sadly it took the arrival of baby #2 for this to occur, and it means that I am now more independent and therefore more protective of what/who impacts my/our lives.
There is more I’m sure, but at the moment, this fatigued head can only think of these primary tolerances. 😉
Yours in sleep deprivation and messy hair,