Extreme Bohunk
Bongo Fury
- Joined
- Aug 21, 2004
- Posts
- 2,589
This is something I posted on another site. There's a lot of new and/or soon to be parents on there, so I thought I'd pass on some tidbits I've gleaned over the years. I figured, 'what the hey, my Lit friends might enjoy this', so here ya go.
Parenting is the goofiest, best and worst job on God's green earth. First, there's like 9 months of unanswered questions and the joy of your soon to be Mother turning into a raging and ever growing water balloon of hormonal imbalances and mood swings. Plus the fun of getting to pull her hair out of her face (and not in the good way) when morning sickness comes to call. Then, she starts to eat. And eat. And eat some more. You find yourself guarding your plate like some convict in one of those old prison movies. Pretty soon she starts craving combinations of food no normal person would dream of, and you better get out of bed to run out and get them with a smile on your face at any time of day or night or you can book another ride on the scariest ride ever, 'the Hormonally Imbalanced Roller Coaster'. Oh yeah, and watch out for the surprise haircut. For some reason, women get this idea that with all the extra baby pounds they're packing, and the adorable 'my back is killing me' waddle, that a haircut right out of boot camp will cure all the self-image concerns she has while her body goes through things that would drive any male insane. (Trust me guys, we really, really got the better end on this part of the deal) So you see her new 'waiting for the Governer to call' neatly coiffed 'do and as your mind is going 'So, how's the Chemotherapy working out?' she asks "Do you like it? Do you think I'm pretty?"
This is a true test of a man. Whatever you do, don't tell her the truth. Lie, Brother lie. Lie your ass off like OJ at a family reunion. Look her dead in the eye, grit your teeth and choke out how much you like it. Then take her for some ice cream. It will grow back, eventually. If you tell her the truth on this one, she will either dissolve into a pool of tears, or possibly wait until you're asleep and cut off something of yours that won't grow back...And believe it or not, the 2nd option is less painful in the long run.
So about the time you've given up the concept of 'your side' of the bed, which in the last trimester decreases almost hourly, due to her expanding horizons, and the need to snuggle up to you for comfort, even though she's turned into a heat machine with legs. (Side note: Low Back rubs. Give them. Just do it.) And for some reason, you feel closer to her than you ever have before. In a good way.
Finally, the blessed day arrives. If you've taken the classes, you can have a front row seat right there in the Delivery Room. If you don't pass out, give yourself 35 Real Man points. Add another 50 if you paid attention in class enough to coach her through labor. Forgot to add earlier- If you attend the feminine ritual known as 'the Baby Shower' be prepared. Practice going "ooh" and "ahh" over an endless parade of tiny clothes you know nothing about. Try to stay out of the pictures, your buddies will invaribly see the ones they'll give you the most crap about later on. Yeah, putting on a baby bonnet was funny when you were surrounded by a flood of estrogen and nurturing pheremones, but there's no need to save it on film for game day w/ the boys.
"It's a boy!"
"And what a boy!"
"No, Mr. Simpson, that's the umbilical cord."
So, boy or girl? This is where your path in life forks. You don't really have an option here, it's gonna be one way or the other. One thing I've learned in life. Having a boy makes you a Dad, having a girl makes you a Father. There's a big difference. Believe it, and don't let anybody B.S. you any differently. I'm not even going to pretend I know what's good advice on how to raise these little monsters. All you can do is guess at what's best, and hope for it. One thing for sure, you're going learn what 'unconditional love' really means. They will make you laugh harder, cry harder, worry more, and teach you things you could never imagine. By the way, if your parents ever put The Curse on you, you know the one where (usually your Mom) they say "I hope when you have kids, they act just like you!", this is where it starts to come into effect. Don't laugh. It's real, and it works.
Now here's where it gets really weird. IF, you do your job right as a parent, and don't screw these wonderful and ever changing bundles of joy up, they grow up and move away. Then they start the whole process over on their own, knowing that they'll be better parents than you, even when you try to keep them from making the same mistakes with their kids that you made with them. Other than that, it's pretty easy. Of course, you still have the option to put The Curse on them. Happy Father's Day!
Parenting is the goofiest, best and worst job on God's green earth. First, there's like 9 months of unanswered questions and the joy of your soon to be Mother turning into a raging and ever growing water balloon of hormonal imbalances and mood swings. Plus the fun of getting to pull her hair out of her face (and not in the good way) when morning sickness comes to call. Then, she starts to eat. And eat. And eat some more. You find yourself guarding your plate like some convict in one of those old prison movies. Pretty soon she starts craving combinations of food no normal person would dream of, and you better get out of bed to run out and get them with a smile on your face at any time of day or night or you can book another ride on the scariest ride ever, 'the Hormonally Imbalanced Roller Coaster'. Oh yeah, and watch out for the surprise haircut. For some reason, women get this idea that with all the extra baby pounds they're packing, and the adorable 'my back is killing me' waddle, that a haircut right out of boot camp will cure all the self-image concerns she has while her body goes through things that would drive any male insane. (Trust me guys, we really, really got the better end on this part of the deal) So you see her new 'waiting for the Governer to call' neatly coiffed 'do and as your mind is going 'So, how's the Chemotherapy working out?' she asks "Do you like it? Do you think I'm pretty?"
This is a true test of a man. Whatever you do, don't tell her the truth. Lie, Brother lie. Lie your ass off like OJ at a family reunion. Look her dead in the eye, grit your teeth and choke out how much you like it. Then take her for some ice cream. It will grow back, eventually. If you tell her the truth on this one, she will either dissolve into a pool of tears, or possibly wait until you're asleep and cut off something of yours that won't grow back...And believe it or not, the 2nd option is less painful in the long run.
So about the time you've given up the concept of 'your side' of the bed, which in the last trimester decreases almost hourly, due to her expanding horizons, and the need to snuggle up to you for comfort, even though she's turned into a heat machine with legs. (Side note: Low Back rubs. Give them. Just do it.) And for some reason, you feel closer to her than you ever have before. In a good way.
Finally, the blessed day arrives. If you've taken the classes, you can have a front row seat right there in the Delivery Room. If you don't pass out, give yourself 35 Real Man points. Add another 50 if you paid attention in class enough to coach her through labor. Forgot to add earlier- If you attend the feminine ritual known as 'the Baby Shower' be prepared. Practice going "ooh" and "ahh" over an endless parade of tiny clothes you know nothing about. Try to stay out of the pictures, your buddies will invaribly see the ones they'll give you the most crap about later on. Yeah, putting on a baby bonnet was funny when you were surrounded by a flood of estrogen and nurturing pheremones, but there's no need to save it on film for game day w/ the boys.
"It's a boy!"
"And what a boy!"
"No, Mr. Simpson, that's the umbilical cord."
So, boy or girl? This is where your path in life forks. You don't really have an option here, it's gonna be one way or the other. One thing I've learned in life. Having a boy makes you a Dad, having a girl makes you a Father. There's a big difference. Believe it, and don't let anybody B.S. you any differently. I'm not even going to pretend I know what's good advice on how to raise these little monsters. All you can do is guess at what's best, and hope for it. One thing for sure, you're going learn what 'unconditional love' really means. They will make you laugh harder, cry harder, worry more, and teach you things you could never imagine. By the way, if your parents ever put The Curse on you, you know the one where (usually your Mom) they say "I hope when you have kids, they act just like you!", this is where it starts to come into effect. Don't laugh. It's real, and it works.
Now here's where it gets really weird. IF, you do your job right as a parent, and don't screw these wonderful and ever changing bundles of joy up, they grow up and move away. Then they start the whole process over on their own, knowing that they'll be better parents than you, even when you try to keep them from making the same mistakes with their kids that you made with them. Other than that, it's pretty easy. Of course, you still have the option to put The Curse on them. Happy Father's Day!
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