Dinner? I can handle that shit. Bath time? I got that shit. Dance class drop-off/pick-up? Discipline? Piece of cake.
Unfortunately, this parenting gig includes dozens of additional details that are kicking the living shit out of me. Many of these things parents have been struggling with forever. But some of this new shit? I hate hate HATE using this phrase I heard a lot from adults when I was younger, but….When I was younger this shit wasn’t as complicated.
Excluding someone from a birthday party invitation wasn’t cause for a smackdown from the gaddamn PTO. Food allergies weren’t killing people like hotcakes. Holiday protocols were restricted to “merry this” “happy that” and “thanks for that.”
Nowadays each and every fucking thing a parent is responsible for comes with a shitload of scientifically impossible instructions and caution regulations that rival the fine print of a Viagra commercial. Stone Cold can’t get a handle on it to save his life. Here’s a list of the things I’m fucking up the most:
1) School Drop-off and pick-up: Holy fucking shit. Every school parking lot is the size of a broom closet and must accommodate an assload of traffic. Behind the wheels of these automobiles are parents on edge trying to get to work, and/or Starbucks, and/or the fuck away from their kids as fast as they fucking can before they ask for yet another fraction of our life force from our souls.
Thus the school has to lay out specific parking lot/drop-off/pick-up procedures. I haven’t crashed my car or run over any human beings on school property yet, but it’s not for lack of Stone Cold fuckups.
2) Getting the Kids Dressed: You already know I do a bang up job dressing myself. It should come as no surprise that my kids often leave the house looking like a walking embodiment of an enema. At minimum I should be able to keep them from freezing to death or dying of heat stroke. Unfortunately my tendency to forget to check the weather forecast may be the inscription on my children’s tombstones.
While on the subject, it seems like every other gaddamn week features a “dress like a Pokemon day” or some “Funky Hat Day” or better still a “dress like you’re a fucking hundred on your hundredth day of fucking school day.” All said special dress days are announced, documented, and promptly forgotten by Stone Cold until his daughter returns home and unleashes holy hell upon me for another fucking parenting fail.
3) Packing Lunch: Well first of all, you gotta remember to pack it for school. I remember to do so around 71% of the time. When I do remember not to starve my child, I pack too much, too little, or not-a-damn-thing-she’ll-eat sandwiches.
4) Food Allergies: When mankind went from the food producing stage to the “mass food producing on the cheap with hard to pronounce words” stage, people started developing allergies. Eating once benign products can now kill you.
Ensuring the safety of children in regards to food allergies requires a vigilance that is sadly developing at a slow pace for Stone Cold.
Just a heads up, I might kill your kid by accident at a playdate or a birthday party. Speaking of birthday parties…..
5) Party Invitations: Inviting who you want ain’t good enough anymore. Inviting everyone from your kid’s class ain’t good enough anymore. Inviting just your family ain’t good enough anymore. Leave someone out, and it might be the end of your ass.
Whatever the rules are I don’t know them. We just have 6-7 birthday parties per child and hope for the fucking best.
6) Being on time: On time? With these hard-headed muthafuckas? Yeah right. A scene illustrating trying unsuccessfully to be on time as a parent, if you will….
a. Announce it’s time to leave.
b. 10 minutes later, make the same announcement since no one fucking listens to a thing I say.
c. Perform MMA moves to get squirming toddlers in their car seats.
d. Have a near fist fight with the older children who are still nowhere near the fucking car.
e. Get snacks that will shut your kids up.
f. Start car.
g. Exit the vehicle to grab something you left in the house.
h. Repeat letter ‘g’ 6-7 times, 1 of which will involve a trip to the potty from the child whom was most adamant about not needing to go.
j. Return to the house after spouse announces they’ve forgotten their wallet or phone.
k. Resist strangling the shit out of your spouse when they cannot find said item in the house because it actually was already in the car all along.
On behalf of everyone at Will Never Get This Shit Right Inc, I’d like to say that we are doing our best. Given that Stone Cold’s best isn’t good enough, I’m gonna just keep throwing up these Ls and hope to pull a win out of my ass every now and again. Unfortunately, all signs point to there being no winning in this shit. Cheers.