On a nightly basis, I ask my hubs “where did we go wrong”. My kids are feral jackals. I’m not in denial, I don’t try to sugar coat it and say “oh it’s a phase”, nopes, I full on own it!!! My kids aren’t out snapping the necks of kittens or pulling the legs off of bugs, but they are wild. In their almost 32 months on this earth over half of it has been spent naked. They revel in peeing outside, and don’t get me started about the poop! When we go out to eat we apologize profusely when we sit down and continue to do so throughout the meal. By the end, we are almost kissing their rings begging for forgiveness…. I guess I better not take them to The Rainy Day Café anytime soon (locals will know what I’m talking about, others, Bing it).
It’s not that we don’t try to reign them in, or try to teach them manners, oh no, we do, we just apparently suck at this task. There are moments where they are these well behaved little strangers that I just don’t recognize. It’s these moments that make me feel there is still hope. I hear the “thank you mama” and the “please” before the demand for something, and I just melt. But then, as quick as it came, it’s gone. And there I stand looking at the two feral jackals I call my children.
When I’m out and about I’m very aware when I see other children, especially the ones that quietly sit in shopping carts while their mothers shop or sit nicely at tables not throwing a single piece of bread while adults have conversations and enjoy their food. I study the mothers and see just what is it that they are doing to make their children behave in this manner. Are they slipping them a few tranquilizers every so often? What the hell are they doing? A few weeks ago we were having breakfast at a diner, when it was time to pay the bill the waitress said it had been paid. She said the couple that had sat in the booth next to us thought our children were some of the most well behaved they had ever seen. I thought this woman had gotten us confused with another table of children. granted, our kids were actually pretty darn good during that meal, but still… I almost teared up. I looked at Thing 1 and Thing 2 and had such pride. I wanted to savor that moment for I knew it wouldn’t last…
I joke and tell people I’m the Supernanny’s worst nightmare. I can just see Nanny JoJo with her glasses looking down on me saying in her cute little British accent “what is going on here, you have no control”. But then, I jump to the other side and think, hey wait, these two are still toddlers. They are making their way and learning everyday. They are at this great age where they have no clue about wars, murder, or other horrible things that will someday be things they know. Right now what they know is that they go outside when the sun is shining, eat lunch before nap, get a snack when they get up, and get “cold colds” when they are good. When else in their lives will they be able to run around naked acting like a wild monkey in their backyard and not be arrested? When else in their lives will they be able to use the window sill as a launching pad to the bed? When else will they be able to ride their little motorcycles in the house screaming “out of the way!!”. So before I go calling Supernanny to turn my twinadoes into the Stepford children I think I’ll let them inappropriately use the markers a few more times and have a few more meals completely naked.