There are occurrences in parenting that are puzzling to the
mind. Sure, there are probably scientific reasons or results to a study that may help to explain some of these parenting phenomena, but still, moms and dads everywhere are thinking to themselves, what in the
hell? Parents of little ones, do these unrelenting questions sound familiar?
Babies and children are born with the desire to feel good, to feel loved and at peace. So why the F*** don't they sleep? The bed is soft.
You are not expected to do anything other than close your eyes and experience
blissful rest and relaxation. Perhaps to a young human, this signifies the end
of playtime and excitement, but to parents the resistance to sleep—amazing,
wonderful sleep—where you rest your face in a soft pillow and escape to unconsciousness,
has us scratching our heads, for real.
2. Why do baby wipes always somehow make your hands
smell like poop?
You've used a dozen wipes already to wipe away the poop. The
poop is gone. There are no traces of poop on the tush or anywhere. But the
wipes still give your hands a faint smell of poop—even when you
are not wiping poop but wiping your toddler's hands or face instead.
3. Where are all the matching socks?
They all go into the washer and presumably the dryer, so why
don't they also come out of the washer and dryer? Where do they go? Is another
life form with only one foot pulling half of each pair to its spacecraft
with a sock tractor beam? Is your husband trading single socks on the black
market? Who is doing this?
4. Why Caillou?
Does the creator of "Caillou" hate us?
Why is the children's television show "Caillou" still being
broadcast around the world? How did it make the programming in the first place?
Why do children watch it and give it ratings? Why is Caillou's face so
annoying? Why does his father groom his brows just like Vanilla Ice? Why is the
baby so clueless? Does the creator of "Caillou" hate us?
5. Why do kids have to talk to you urgently
whenever you are on the phone?
You are only on the phone a handful of times a day. Does having the
phone up to our ear make us more attractive to you? More fun? Does it signal to you, hey, let's spend some time together talking about who gets to eat the Skittles, or why Rainbow Dash is better than Pinkie Pie or where babies come
6. Why do they drink bath water?
I swear someone could make a boatload of money bottling up
bathwater and selling it to kids with a fancy label called "Your Own Filth."
7. Why do they smell like goats after playing
They leave the house smelling like Bounce fabric softener
and a dream. And they return to the house after being outside (sometimes for only
15 minutes) smelling like an Alpine dairy goat who hasn't left the barn for days. It's so confusing. What makes them have that "outside" goatish smell?
Is there an unkempt petting zoo at the top of the slide? What the hell, dude?
When you have a baby or toddler, poop is often found in
strange places: on the armrest of your couch, on the handle of your brush, in
your eye. How did it get there? I mean, you can surmise many things. Did it leak out of the diaper while the baby was balancing precariously on the armrest? Maybe curious little toddler hands went in for the feel in her dirty diaper, and then
she immediately brushed her hair. Did flying poop
landed in your cornea during the last diaper change? But seriously, how does it
happen? And how did it get on the ceiling? And now, how do we get it off?
9. Why is daddy always gone when your toddler poops
Why is it that dad always happens to get an important call
every time your child's bowels rumble in the jungle? Or why does he suddenly get a bad case of
diarrhea himself upon the first whiff of diaper business? How is it that most
times, (if not every) time, there is a number 2 occurrence, before you can say,
"Hey honey, the little peanut has shat herself," dad's nowhere to be found?
You do a mirror check before you leave the house. And since
childbirth, it is custom for you to go to the bathroom at least twice an hour, which forces you to look at the ass part of your pants. Oh and also, you trust
humanity to tell you if there is a WHOLE SHEET OF SEASONED SEAWEED STUCK TO
YOUR ASS! How long has snack time been waving on your buns?
does the night go?
Do we exist in a weird time vortex once we become parents?
How is it that the days can sometimes drag on for an
eternity, but nights are over in a lightning flash? Sometimes it feels like
just when our heads hit the pillow, a small human is sitting on our head,
kicking our face asking for milk. Do we exist in a weird time vortex once we
are their bladders so small?
They guzzle enough juice to fill a Texaco Tanker. So why are
their stomachs the size of coin purses?
do they know every variation of mom?
Who taught them that one of the most ruthless forms of mom
torture is the relentless and repetitive calling of "mom" in every version
possible. MOM! MOMMY! MAMA! MA! (repeat 1,700 times).
do they love the taste of boogers?
Because they are salty. (Apparently.) Mystery solved.
do they not hear anything you say except for the occasional slip-up swear word?
And then why do they choose to repeat that slip-up word at the playground in front of three other moms?
are their little heads so hard?
When they are babies, you touch that weird fontanelle part
and shudder. You think, "OMG, I must be so careful with this fragile little
head. The fontanelle!!" But then mere months later, when they lurch back
excitedly and pop you in the mouth with their now fused fontanelles, you get a
fat lip, and you realize that it won't be your last.
can they search for videos on YouTube and not pee in the toilet?
How are they able to observe you enter your password, then
enter your password themselves, then swipe through the apps, then open YouTube
and then somehow find the video of the cat playing the keyboard?
do they make juice boxes and Capri Suns in a way that will definitely ruin our
Here's some juice, toddler. Drink it through a tiny little
straw that will constantly fall out/and or disappear completely into the
box/pouch. Oh and also, don't put any ounce of pressure on the box/pouch while
you hold it in your clumsy Frankenstein hands, lest the juice shoot out all over
you and a three-feet radius, covering everything with Level 9 stickiness.