Warning: extreme caution should be exercised when in the vicinity of little Beans. Persons who are confused, accident-prone or inebriated are advised to take flight immediately. May cause black eyes, broken bones, dislocated toes, and or insanity.
For 18 years I wanted a baby. It took me 15 months to get pregnant, and I spent almost nine months being pregnant. In all of that time, no one—NO ONE—warned me about the potential dangers of rearing children.
They leap from tall buildings (and furniture), they talk in window-shattering decibels, they say more words with more limited vocabularies in one hour than I have in the last five years, they poop, they pee, they are slippery when wet. They will track dirt in your house, sleep in your bed, destroy your valuables, torment your dog and wreck your home. They will throw tantrums, cause physical injury, headaches, sleep deprivation and or nerve damage. They will empty your bank accounts, cause spontaneous acne, steal your identity, and if you don’t drink, they will drive you to it.
Maison Bean looks like a college frat house on a Sunday morning with little cars, trucks and trains posing as beer cans. My water bill rivals the national debt, and I can’t see out of the dining room window because there’s a mountain of laundry on the table blocking my view. In a 24-hour period, a small hand was thrust into my eye socket rendering it black, my larynx was bruised when it bizarrely encountered a knee, and I was head-butted in the teeth. His hard little head is fine; my teeth reverberated for a week and started to turn grey before I had a double root canal.
And despite all this, I’m glad no one warned me. It’s a ride I wouldn’t have missed…. Besides, they’re little cherubs whilst they slumber.
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They add 10 pounds, and they take 5 years off your life when they don’t make curfew. They turn your hair gray. They ruin your reputation by telling all your secrets to the teachers at school. And they make up for all of it when they outweigh you but still snuggle into your lap and say “I love you, Mommy.”
Oh, honey. You haven’t even gotten to the teenage years yet. Also known as the “Living-Hell Years.” And I have good kids! All I’m saying is when puberty strikes, look out. Seriously, no warning could prepare you for what you will encounter anyway.
Just keep those lines of communication going, no matter what. Even when you’re the only one communicating, while they roll their eyes at you with that “Yeah, yeah, we’ve heard it before, lady…” attitude. And, believe me, you’re gonna get plenty of attitude.
But, yes, it is all worth it. Your journey into motherhood has barely begun. Enjoy every step along the way. Cherish every little moment. Because one day you’ll look up, and they’ll be out of school and getting ready to enter college and adulthood. And you’ll take out that shoebox of pictures when they were all dressed up for Easter or Halloween, and …. Excuse me, I have to go find that shoebox now. Where’s my tissue? I need a hug.
I’ll probably be committed before then!
Oh, your boys are so cute!! Even if they test your nerves! I can’t wait for my own little monsters! Thanks for the warning though!:)
I guess that mothers have felt this way for a long time…here’s an Emerson quote I just found:
“There was never a child so lovely but his mother was glad to get him to sleep.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Just found your blog and LOVE IT!!
Can’t wait to read what happens next in the life of the Beans 🙂
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