As I step on leftover mashed potatoes hidden under the table, hear a child simply scream “NAKED!” while stripping naked and running by in the nude, followed by “it’s a ninja fight, I am subtly reminded that I have children.
There is a level of chaos associated with parenthood that no one prepares you for. And I think that’s because there is no way to actually prepare anyone for the chaos that ensues. I have a sneaking suspicion that it’s also due to the fact that the level and type of chaos is determined purely by the children inhabiting every household.
I don’t know about all households, but I know in our house farts are a frequent topic of conversation. Because they are funny. Like really funny. This was unexpected. At least in my mind it was unexpected. I anticipated all bathroom breaks post-children would come with an audience. I figured with two boys there would be wrestling and broken bones. We’ve clearly crossed wrestling off the list but (knock on wood) have yet to see a broken bone.
But within all of the moments – expected and unexpected – there is chaos. Mind-numbingly, beautiful chaos. Chaos I wouldn’t give up for anything because it weaves such crazy, wonderful, painful, amazing, funny, stoic moments into the fabric of our family’s story. And so I share with you some of the chaotic snapshots of our family in hopes you find joy, laughter or tears in ours and recognize the incredible moments it creates in your own lives.
I’ve pulled all of these memories from notes I’ve taken after moments I shared with the boys that I did not want to forget…
- The boys have been home the last few days fighting pneumonia and adenovirus. Not a lot of fun. I assumed that tomorrow would be another no school day until one kid grabbed the ice bucket and made it into a hat and the other started running up to us saying, “I am the naked man?” Followed closely by “Can you smell my stink?” I can’t make this stuff up. But maybe school is more of possibility for tomorrow than I thought.
- Just when you think you’ve made it as a mom…and by that I mean I’ve peed solo, the younger monkey butt bursts through the bathroom door with one paper towel roll stuck at the end of each hand, yelling I’m paper towel hand man!” Looks like I’ll have to try again tomorrow.
- There are certain questions about being a parent that I just can’t answer. Like why did my child have me up at 3:45am demanding sustenance and entertainment like a rabid wolf? That ones beyond me. But now that he’s zonked out, I’ll be sure to lay in bed awake until I have to get up for working, trying to hypothesize why what just happened, happened.
- Child 1 from downstairs (4.2 seconds after I left the room) “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” Followed by the little pitter patter of feet up the stairs. Me: Before he inevitably busts through the bathroom door. “I’m just going potty, I’ll be right out.” Child: No hesitation. Obviously. Busts into bathroom. Me: “Mommy just wants to go potty by herself baby.” Child: “Not today. Maybe tomorrow.” He then proceeds to run through all the random days of the week he will allow me to go the bathroom solo. I think he tried to trip me up and said all 7 days, purposefully out of order so I had the smallest bit of hope that I would someday escape to the bathroom without an entourage.
- Some kids have an imaginary friends. Ours has a knife kitty who lives in the shed behind the house, is 65 years old and has zombie friends. Maybe it’s time to be concerned…..
- The boys are both home today due to inclement weather. Hubby and I are both working so we busted out the tent, filled it with stuffies and blankets, ordered pizza and let the iPad time fly. That lasted a total of 12 minutes. They move onto hiding in the closet together. Fine by me. Maybe we get another solid 12 minutes of interruption-free work time. Nope. Two minutes into their closet hi-jinx, they start spouting that they are ready to start chaos. They re-emerge from the closed 47 seconds later – boots and hangers strewn about. Both boys: “We caused chaos!!” Me: Turning around to identify what in fact they did. “What is that white thing on the floor of the closet?” Child: “Chaos.” Well that makes sense. I should have known. They are currently in the process of reversing their chaos so they can go out and play in the snow after daddys’ next meeting. And mommy is willing the schools to open tomorrow.
- “Can we have dessert every Friday and every time I’m not sick?”
- “When I farted in your bed the other night, daddy thought lightning was striking down.”
- “If you see solar panels for our house, can you get them when they are not pricey? Only like $10 bucks with your credit card. Can you get them?”
- Farts and then proceeds to ask if it sounds like thunder because it was a thunder fart.
- Child: “Let me show you my belly when I’m not flexing my muscles.” Me: “You want to show me your belly when you’re not flexing your muscles?” Child: “Look how squashy it is.” Me: “Yeah. That’s pretty normal for a belly.”
- Child: “We could do a science experiment with vegetables. And then they’ll get hit by lightning and boom a million dollars.” Me: “How would vegetables getting hit by lightning make us a million dollars.” Child: “Because we could sell them to scientists. And then get a mansion.”
- Child: “Do you know that there a different kinds of grass that you can eat?” Me: “Please don’t eat grass.”
- Child: “Do you pay the electric bill?” Me: “Yes.” Child: “Like every month?” Me: “Yes.” Silence ensues as he process the prospect of paying bills. Every month.
- We were finishing up reading books before bedtime. Don’t remember how it came up, but child #2 identifies that he has a boogie on his finger. We try and have the conversation that we use Kleenex for boogies and we don’t pick our nose. Lean over and grab him a tissue. Try and hand it to him and all he says is, “No, it’s my pet.” Although we thwarted this evening’s pet boogie, I’m afraid we’ve started down the very wrong path for the choice of pets. Here’s to a lack of pet boogies in the future.
- Bedtime conversations with a 3-year old: Child: “Mommy, can we change this tomorrow?” Referring to the penguin pillow case that has adorned his pillow for 24 hours. Me: “Of course baby. All the sheets and stuff daddy pulled off your bed this morning are in the dryer now so we can change it tomorrow.” Child: “Good. Cuz penguins are the WORST.” Apparently we do not hold penguins in high regard because when he was a baby, child #2 was bit by a hundred million penguins. After sufficiently cracking up at his penguin comment, the conversation took a turn. “Mommy, I can grow a thousand penises. Me: Not quire sure where to go from here. Child: “I want to live in a tiny candy home.” Me: “Oh that’s a good thing to dream about. Now please go to sleep.” Sometimes I’m not prepared for the rollercoaster that is bedtime conversations.
I can’t say I anticipated any of these conversations adorning my life. But I do know life would be vastly more boring without them. I can’t say my humor and classic dromedary camel joke (better not to ask) would carry my husband and I through life with as much comic relief as the boys do. So the sweet moments that catch me off guard, make me chuckle and question what we did before these two came into our lives, certainly keep me on my toes and thankful we get them sprinkled into each and every day.
Cheers to the chaos.
Too Much Laundry, Not Enough Wine 