I have been at this mom thing for 11 years now, the wife thing for 14 and the professor thing for 16.
I have lived in Glen Rose for 12 years, and I think the city girl that moved here with no kids and no creatures, is a full blown crazy country kid and creature mom now. I started all of these adventures with some “I’ll never,” “they’ll never,” and “this will never happen” lists.
Well, the quickest way to ensure that your kid will be the one leading the church in a rousing rendition of The 12 Days of Christmas in her pajamas, is to imagine that you would never allow something like that happen. Or my husband would seriously suggest that our next couch should be camo.
Even the creatures have managed to shatter all of my expectations, at least my dog did not eat my wedding cake, that story belongs to my sister-in-law. And while I am great at tattling to you about my family, the list of things I have done is so much worse. I have helped deliver a calf in high heels, chased a goat around the neighborhood in only my robe, used the cozy coupe as sled, and oh so many more.
Now, that I have some experience with these expectations, I have adjusted the lists that I keep.
My lists now start with things like, “stuff I never imagined I would have to tell my children not to eat,” “places I never expected to find someone’s comfort blanket,” “questions I am forced to ask,” and the one most common in my life, “things my children said at church/school/in public in general, that made me laugh/cry/slink away in utter embarrassment.”
All three of my children have decided they needed to try the dog food, and five minutes later refused to eat the lovely human meal, and if not lovely at least safe for human consumption meal, I cooked.
And why is it that they seem to need to hide the one thing they can’t live without? It’s very counterintuitive to my relatively grown up brain.
The “why are you?” list is long, but the “why are you licking that list?” is probably the worst. Because the dog/brother/foot/chair/window needed to be licked.
I am sure that this column will often tell stories of what my three babies have said. As someone recently told me at church, he is always glad when my children are there because no matter how crazy his kids are, mine will always be crazier.
Yep, we are that family, and most days I would not have it any other way.
Jennifer Miller is a wife, mother, professor and generally in over her head. Her email is firstname.lastname@example.org.