When we first got pregnant with Minion #1 back in 2003 we were like most brand new expectant parents, confused, bewildered and even scared. We were bringing a human into this world that we would have to take care for for at least eighteen years, we could barely take care of ourselves. Just a mere nine months prior to #1 shooting out of the birth canal we were sunning, drinking and being carefree in Cancun...see a trend there?
We read all of the books from What to Expect When You're Expecting to How Not To Raise Your Child to be a Complete Assclown. We took the classes where they showed us how to bath the kid, clothe the kid and how to care for the kid. We childproofed our entire condo by installing outlet covers, corner bumpers, drawer locks and putting all breakable items high enough so the baby can't reach. We packed the suitcase months before we were due....I need to stop right there, let me clarify I keep saying we because that is what men have been trained to do, but the only two parts of the pregnancy I had anything to do with is the insertion of Point A into Slot B and staying at the head of the hospital bed where I belonged. Basically i started the process and the Trophy finished it, with me as her cheerleader.
Anyway, for nine months we did everything by the book to make sure our little *ahem* angel came out perfect, the Trophy even woke me up gently the night she went into labor with a soft kiss on the forehead and told me it was time. Then twenty-three hours later our lives changed for-fucking-ever.
There is not one book, one class, one video that comes even remotely close to telling the truth about having a kid. Everything we read or watched....all lies. We didn't use one ounce of information that we didn't already know from common sense. They told us to make sure the car seat was in properly, well no shit Sherlock. They told us to feed the kid regularly, duh! They even told us that they grow alarmingly fast, so enjoy every minute of them, well that part was true, sometimes I wish we could send the Minions back up the sperm chute.
After having one Minion, you learn things on your own and that prepares you for #2 and #3, not the books and shitbricks that tell you how to prepare for and raise your kids. I am willing to bet half of them aren't even parents or only have one kid, if you only have one kid you are not a REAL parent, no offense to any readers who only have one, but you need at least two to make it interesting. Instead of writing these books and producing these videos I wish they would have told us useful things, things like:
No matter how quick you are with the diaper, you are going to get shit or pissed on.
You will not get more than an hour of sleep in a twenty four hour period between the ages of 0 and 1.
You will not have an actual vacation to a location that you want to go to for at least sixteen years. You will be forced to spend a week hob knobbing with Big Bird, Grover and Elmo.
You will in fact break down and purchase a DVD player for the car, this is for your own sanity.
You will not loose the pounds you gained with the baby, this goes for the Dads as well.
Complete meals are going to be few and far between, as a Dad you will be considered a vulture, picking the plates clean from what your Minions did not finish.
Your taste in music will change, instead of singing Shoot to Thrill, you will be forced to sing the Bellybutton Song.
Your beer will go from a nice micro-brew to cheaper Bud Light or Coors Light, if you're lucky enough to get beer.
Your clean house will now be overtaken by toys, lots and lots of toys.
Do not purchase a new living room set until the kids are out of the house, especially one with glass top tables.
Your sex life will decrease, not because of loss of interest in your partner, because you are too tired once the Minions are in bed (By the way, that is a teaser for next Theme Thursday)
You will break down and eventually eat baby food because it is readily available and there is no cooking.
Instead of style, you will now be looking at different aspects when purchasing something. Will it hold up to a kid? What's the warranty on it? Will it withstand a peanut butter sandwich shoved into the disc drive?
Despite how hard you try, you cannot explain to a child that they can't play with the toys on the top shelves of the house, they don't understand the term collection.
You will resort to threats. You may never act upon them but you will be forced to tell your Minion that you can call Santa Claus and tell him not to bring them gifts.
You need to learn how to poop and pee with the door open
There are many things that I wish people would have told me before we had our first Minion but I find that most people keep their ideas a secret as they want to see others suffer the same way they did.
This is my Theme Thursday post this week. Click the Theme Thursday link on the right of my blog to go check out the other bloggers participating!