Vegetarian Nudists

13 Nov

Day number 2,507 of parenting.  (Or somewhere close to that number) 

2,500 + days of parenting sounds like a lot and yet not so much at the same time.  Kind of like trying to drink a gallon of milk in an hour.  Sounds easy, but so far no one has done it.  (Gross…that’s possibly the worst example I’ve ever made…you’re welcome)  It seems as though after 2,500+ days of anything would make a person an expert in that field.  However, I feel like I’m still stuck in the intermediate class. 

I think all parents have grand aspirations of being 50’s style parents like Mrs. Cunningham from Happy Days.  Oh, Mrs. Cunningham, you’re my hero.  The 50’s were overflowing with TV shows of perfect moms and perfect families.  The ones that walked around with creepy smiles on their faces and dresses that always hit two inches below their knees.  Ah, if only.

But I digress…

By now you all know how much my son loves denim pants and abhors anything other than that.  You can imagine what a headache this is.  So, to save myself from a winter’s worth of debates over pants, I bought him only blue jeans this year.  No khaki’s, no corduroys, just jeans.  *patting myself on the back*  Oh yes, I’m the coolest mom every. 

A box full of jeans and long sleeved shirts arrived yesterday and I basked in the glow of it’s gloriousness.  I smiled to myself a smug little smile as I layed out his clothes this morning.  Anxious to hear his reaction, I stood outside of his bedroom door waiting for squeals of excitement to fill the house.  *pausing for effect*  However, what I heard sounded dangerously like crying and not squealing.  I rushed into his room to see what could possibly be wrong.  Evidentally, over night, he had developed strong feelings about shirts as well.  Can’t a mom get a break?  (Um, no.)  Try as I might to comfort him, he kept on crying like I’d layed out a shirt made from his pet’s hide.  Cheese & rice.

Deflated, I shuffled out of his room with my imaginary tail tucked between my legs. 

I have now decided that Fisher is some new hybrid of pre-schooler.  A cross between a budding nudist and a vegetarian.  (Hee, this picture makes me giggle)  Okay, not the best visual example, but it’s the best Google had to offer.  Don’t blame me for the lack of appropriate naked vegetable pictures on the internet. 

Okay, so I might be acting a tad mellowdramatic about this, but it does drive home a point.  Parenting is not easy.  There are more challenges than I ever imagined.  Meat hate, denim lust…Parenting for Dummies completely skipped over this chapter. 

However, that said, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.  I love my two little bundles of energy more than anything.  I comfort myself in the fact that someday I can use all of this as entertainment for their future spouses.  Muahahaha!  *ahem*  Life is good.  :)


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