Real Parenting

O.K., it's 10:10pm and the hub is in the bedroom reading stories to Jake, not Jake's bedroom, our bedroom. It's all the same around here. Jake is drinking milk from a sippy cup and odds are he won't brush his teeth afterwards. Sometimes we do, sometimes we don't. We didn't eat supper until 8:30pm. Jake sat ON the table, not at the table. Me, Joel and Neighbor sat on the couch. We each had some form of alcohol, beer or wine. We watched Southpark.
Jake goes to school at 8:30am, atleast that's the idea. This morning he woke up at 8:15am. He really didn't want to wake up, but I sang a little ditty and blew mouthfarts on him, making rhyming tunes to words like fart and poop. I know it's bad, but hey, it makes him laugh and I laugh too. I managed to get him dressed, teeth brushed and hair hand-combed and out the door by 8:30am. Not sure how, it was a bit like being a drill sergeant. Did he eat breakfast? No! Damnit. Oh, I said "Damnit", I'm sure. "Oh shit!" is a big favorite too. "Oh Shit, I forgot your shoes." "Damnit Izzy, get out of the trash." You know, shit like that. I dropped him off at school, kisses and hugs and kisses and hugs and lots of "I love You". Life is good. I worked my fucking ass off all day but that's another story. I come skating up to the school at 2:40pm, 2:45pm is the last minute pick-up. Racing into the school, I clip a parent with dawdling kiddos, trying to make it before it is embarrassingly late. I waltz in to a wonderful closing of Jake playing outside with his classmates, "Mom, I don't want to leave yet." I breath a sigh of relaxation. "O.K.", I say. We hang out, then dawdle down to the Frog room. We hang out there too long because we simply love Jaqlyn too much, oh if only I could spell her name right. I am shamed by her wonderfully natural way of observation. As she reads over his class report, she asks Jake "What did you say you were sorry to God for Jake?", "I said I was sorry for talking so loud in class," said Jake. Ouch. Why didn't I ask that question. Moving on. We dallied there for awhile then ran off to finish my work day at TACODELIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!! In the car I asked Jake what Dad and I should say we are sorry for to God. I won't get into it too much, but let me just say that it turns out that Jake isn't missing alot around here, as in, he does know exactly what we should feel bad about. O.K. now we know Jake's an observant little booger. We went to Tacodeli where I promptly gave him a chocolate chip cookie and lemonade so that he would let me finish up work. We got home and he did awesome artwork and colored and watched T.V. while I worked even a bit more. Then, YEAH!, we went to the park where he played with Zoe and dreamed of playing soccer and being in kindergarten. When we got home he asked me if boys took ballet. "Why yes," I said, with great delight I might add (Joel's eyes were rolling). I ran to get my New York Ballet workout tape to show him just such types of fellows. He lost interest immediately. Jake just got out of bed and asked to brush his teeth and pee. Then he crawled back into bed with Dad. I'm gonna go take a shower and crawl in next to him. Fuck you Parenting Magazine. We co-sleep, we single sleep, Jake sleeps in his own bed and our bed and sometimes I sleep in his bed alone. I say fart and poop and there is no fucking way that ignoring it is going to make him stop saying it. This kid is way too smart for that. He's already signed his forms for class clown of 3rd grade. Dad's been priming him since birth. This is a real day in the real life of a parent of a 4-year-old. I wish we could be better. We did get broccoli and salad in him for dinner. I'm feeling good about that one. I just can't take the pressure of proper parenting anymore. We are animals, we breed, we raise our brood. I can't keep up with the many new fangled ways of raising kids. Americans who raise thier children by the book, end up with cows. Sure, they travel in herds, but you can't tell one from the other. I'll take my crazy zebra-striped Hyena anyday. He's one of a kind.