Crapshoot: The Game of Parenting

Most days, I feel completely unqualified in my position as a parent. I am like a legacy student, getting this job mainly because my parents gave birth to me, and I wanted to follow in their tremendous footsteps. When I was pregnant with my first child, I read the book What to Expect When You are Expecting, or at least I definitely received it as a gift and placed it on my nightstand. However, after moving onto more complex stages of human development, like middle school, I realized there was probably nothing in that book explaining what to expect about a twelve-year-old—your baby is now 97 pounds and knows more words than you do.

When I was pregnant and sober, people told me all about what it is like to have a newborn—things like how to get them to sleep through the night and what is the best breast pump, or if I want to be a worthless piece of shit who clearly does not love her children, then let me tell you about the best baby formula. I bought a rocking chair to put in our bedroom and a bottle drying rack for next to the kitchen sink. Then after all that preparation, it turned out that my babies were only newborns for like a few months.

I do know for sure that not one single parent warned me about the importance of chargers and charger cords in parenting. There is not a chapter in What to Expect about this – once your baby can speak, he will expect you to know where all the chargers are, even if you are sleeping, and he can clearly see your eyes are closed, he will ask you anyway, “Mom do you have a charger?” As my service to new parents, I can tell you what to expect when your child unplugs your phone because, “Well, you were at 87%”. You can expect that you will never see that charger again.  

Most of my parental experience comes from the fact that I have already been every age they have been, so there are some events that I expected, like head lice. I grew up with a thick head of unbrushed hair and was sent home several times after the ladies came to my classroom and went through everyone’s hair with chopsticks. If they found lice, they asked you to get up right then in front of everyone and go to the office. This was the original walk of shame, and I am pretty sure this is why we invented HIPAA. Looking back, I am surprised my mother let me into her car when she was forced to come pick me up, and I would like to take a moment of silence to honor those women who worked at elementary schools and had to touch every child’s hair looking for bugs.

One ailment I was not expecting to expect is pinworms. My child had pinworms in fourth grade. If you do not want to have children, then after reading this you can expect that you will be too disgusted to fuck anyone as your Plan A. For those of you not familiar, pinworms are, medically speaking, tiny worms in your butthole. They are very contagious—the eggs getting on a kid’s hands and spreading through schools. The symptoms of pin worms are to expect your child to wake you up in the middle of the night to tell you his butt itches, “really, really bad.” You can also expect to get your very own set of pinworms.

Luckily, there is an over the counter treatment that actually works, so after only a couple short days of severe itching and living with the fact that there were tiny worms in your butt, you can expect a full recovery. I am assuming that this remedy is over the counter because at one point in history an important man in the pharmaceutical industry was afflicted with pinworms and was like, let’s just make this OTC, and then he checked out with his pinworm meds and a bunch of other random shit to make it seem less noticeable. I will just take this medicine that I hope you have never heard of, this wine in a box, these 35 phone chargers, a can of Vienna sausages, and let’s add this King Size Snickers bar.

With each stage of a child’s development, from pooping in the bathtub, to learning to lock all the doors in your house, to the stage where they wear the same hoodie every day for two years, what parents can expect is that they will be tired. When they are newborns they sleep most of the day like old cats and they cannot even speak, so you can expect to look back fondly on that precious time when your daughter had never slammed a door in your face and then yelled, “Nobody even likes you!” and your son had never said, “You are dressed just like my band teacher”.

I think of my own mother sometimes and what to expect when your baby is 45—your baby now weighs in on all of your issues, is a single mother who cannot find any of her chargers or a good boyfriend, but she currently does not have lice or pinworms. You can expect 45 to be a great year for your baby and for her babies who are now in 7th and 9th grade, which is about two years past the stage of parenting when she first wished she could go back to having a newborn and a toddler because that was much easier than living with two middle schoolers.

A Newborn in its natural habitat. This one now has facial hair.

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