Okay, so as I was changing what felt like the 17th shitty diaper of the day (an ill-planned lunch of black bean soup followed by baked beans for supper means I pretty much got what I deserved) I thought: there is some parent, somewhere, having a worse time than me. Maybe they just discovered their 17-year-old’s truly awful neck tattoo. Or maybe their kid is being bullied, and they’re meeting with the school principal, desperate for a solution. Or maybe someone’s preteen daughter is just going through a snotty stage, with lots of door slamming and shouts of “I HATE YOU MOOOOM!” and “NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME!”
Suddenly scraping feces from someone else’s butt cheeks doesn’t seem so bad.
In fact, this might just be the easy part. Think about it: at this stage, we are in control of pretty much everything. As I’ve said before, being a control freak has its challenges when it comes to parenting, but at the same time, it allows us to manipulate situations to our liking, at least to a certain extent. Consider the following:
- Fashion. Callum wears whatever Nana has dug out of the bin at Frenchy’s. If I think the sweater vest looks cute, dammit, he wears the sweater vest. He has yet to ask me for a Lulu Lemon hoodie or a an Ed Hardy t-shirt (and praise the Lord for that). John has a vivid memory of the last time he was down with his dad taking him shopping. “Dad,” he said, “I don’t WANT to wear clothes from Mark’s Work Wearhouse ANY MORE!” It was a sad day for my father-in-law (and his wallet, I imagine) when John wanted more than reasonably priced, good quality khaki pants. But I digress. And then there’s Callum’s hair. Despite all the talk, I still haven’t cut his hair. One day, he’s going to look at me, tug at his pigtails, and say, “Mom, I want a mohawk! And by the way, I’m a BOY!”
- Entertainment. There is no fighting over cell phones, or iPods, or computer usage, or God forbid, the dangers of extreme skateboarding. Callum’s idea of a good time is inspecting the neighbor’s walkways, playing with Hot Wheels, and singing The Itsy Bitsy Spider. And I’m okay with that.
- Which brings me to music. I don’t think I’ll be able to deal with his generation’s Miley Cyrus or Eminem, or his inevitable teenaged boy Led Zeppelin Is The Greatest Band Ever phase, but I will try.
- Food. Callum thinks that applesauce mixed with yogurt is “ice cream”. Let’s see how long we can keep him in the dark about that one.
- Friends. I am Callum’s agent. I accept and turn down invitations on his behalf. Birthday party for Luka at Tumblebums? I like his parents. We’ll be there. Play date at Michael’s? That kid has perma-green snot and he shoves. Forget it.
Plus, did I mention that toddlers think their parents are cool? As in the coolest people ever?
Like I said, enjoy it while you can.
Yeah, whenever I tell parents of older children ( mine are 4 years and 13 months old) that things will be easier when they are older, they just laugh at my ignorance!