Top Ten Parenting Fails
What is in a name? A clue to the nature of the person perhaps? Or to the purpose of a waffler like me on that little thing known as The World Wide Web. As a person and as a mother, I have had some instances where I have made an epic Parenting fail, many of which make for excellent inspiration when writing Parenting Fails & Pigtails. Below is an attempt at a top ten, but because I know this road we lead is so meandering and eventful, I would like to state now, that there will be many more life happenings to add to this list. It is by no means exhaustive. In no particular order, I give you my top ten parenting fluff ups:
Parenting Fail: Drunken Antics
I spent the week prior to finding out I was expecting, Uni Drunk in Valencia with my Spanish bestie and any other fool who would drink gallons of vodka and lemonade on a random Tuesday. It was epic. There are photos that only surface to embarrass us, and it was dubbed my Spanish Hen Do. I was so worried after I had peed on the stick that I had poisoned the baby, I went to the doctors, to own up.
Fortunately, I was reassured I was not the first, and won’t be the last Mummy-to-be to find out they were pregnant after a tipple to two. I perhaps didn’t paint an entirely truthful picture of the week leading up to my beautiful two blue lines, for fear of sounding like an irresponsible human being. I have come to terms with the fact I am indeed, an irresponsible human being. But with practice, persistence and a bucket load of fails, we are navigating this journey together, learning on the job if you will.
Child inflicted indecent exposure
In our infinite wisdom, we offered to drive a friends car down to Italy for them for after their wedding, with out then one year old twins. What were we thinking? On the upside, we decided to make a holiday out of it for a few days. Having traveled by car, we checked in, changed and headed out for a well needed bite to eat and exceptionally large glass of wine. When in Rome, it would be rude not to.
The twins were tots, but older than they looked as premmies often are. It was one of the first holidays we had taken since becoming a family of 4, and my inexperience became quite literally visible for ALL to see. I put my sundress on, and off we went. I hadn’t taken into account the fact that it was strapless, and that Thing 1 was in the pulling stage of life.
Those little, tiny, razor sharp fingers got themselves nicely wrapped round the dress, and in one flail movement, the post baby boobies were out for all to see. Best bit, she waited until I was facing a rather loud, German Stag Do before offering my less than full fun bags for the world to see. Thanks kid. I am not sure how, and I am not sure when, but payback is going to happen. Revenge is a dish best served cold.
Baby Brain Bungle
I hope I am not the only parent to do this. Any sentence that starts off like that should come with a disclosure, because now I am super worried, this might just be a Me fail, rather than a common parenting mishap. It was nursery pick up for the twins, I signed in and nipped to the loo. I sat there thinking, gosh, Ive not felt the baby move much today….SHIT THE BAAABBBBBYYYYYY. Yep, fast asleep, in her car seat in the back of the car.
Sorry kiddo, it wasn’t personal.
Parenting Fail: Swing Low Sweet Chariot
Boys will be Boys. If there was ever a list of expressions to utilise, that would have to be on it. Its as though there is some built in DNA for a boy to do (stupid) boy stuff. Thing 2 was playing with a friend who had recently had his first golf lesson. Now, I love my son with all my heart, but he can be a bit of a doofus sometimes. He lacks the ability to see and reaction to actions, mind you, so does his Dad so Im not sure why Im surprised. He excitedly stood to watch the practise swing, so he knew how to hold the club.
Fair enough I hear you say. But he stood over his buddies shoulder, in perfect alignment with the end of his swing, therefore the end of his club. En route to A&E, the pair became a comedy double act. Telling everyone and anyone that would listen the story. I clearly had not been listening because I thought he was hit in the head by a swing. As in the park kinda swing. Not as in a golf swing. Cue a concerned looking nurse when he saw the flicker of my eyes upon full comprehension of the facts.
Dude, don’t stand next to someone swinging a metal stick, it never ends well, that bald patch on the side of your head should act as a sufficient reminder.
Parenting Fail: Potty Training for Boys.
Me “Do you need the toilet Josh?”
J “No, Mummy”
Me “Are you sure?”
J “Yes Mummy”
Me “YOU ARE PEEING ON MY FOOT”
Parenting Fail: Multi-Storey Mishaps
Ernie The Fun Bus, how I miss you. The fastest milk cart in the west. You were a gem of a car. Held together mostly by spilt juice and melted chocolate buttons, but you served us well. You were however, a bugger to take into a multi-storey car park. And I was having a terrible day anyway. Mid organising my sister-in-laws hen do, we had nipped out for a few, last minute things. It was manic.
It is not humanly possible to “nip” anywhere with 3 kids under the age of 3. Add to that, the fact that it was a multi-storey car park and I drove a van styled airport taxi, you can imagine the stress levels just trying to park, let alone getting in or out of the car. Jobs successfully achieved, we piled back in the fun bus, firmly putting my SIL younger sister off kids – for life. And then World War Three broke out. The screaming, shouting and general tantrum-ing fuelled a knee jerk bollocking from yours truly. Followed by a very load and distinctive sssccccrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaattttcccchhhhhhhh and within 30 seconds, half the door was missing. Actually half the side of the car was missing, but tomato tomato.
And no, I didn’t think to stop and pick the bits up Hubs, because the shame and embarrassment of being labelled a “typical female driver” was too much for this Fun Bus wielding feminist to handle.
Toddler encouraged, Baby led weaning
Breakfast in The Mad House is always a loud and bustling affair. Slightly less civilised than a room full of kids jacked on purple fruit shoots. It is bedlam. Thing 1 was helping #BossBaby have her morning milk. Only she thought it was unfair for her to only be having milk, so shared her cereal with the 6 week old. Neither appreciated her efforts, which ended in us all in tears, hungry and a little soggier than planned.
Parenting Fail: Inappropriate Pyjama Party Viewing
The Hubs has a habit of not checking the rating on a film before we sit down to watch it. As PJ parties are a weekly occurrence in the Mad House, we have swiftly run out of remotely interesting films to watch with appropriate ratings. So most of the time, The Hubs “assures” me it is a family friendly view. I have learnt that this basically means he has ignored what ever the review said because he thinks Adam Sandler is THE MAN.
As a result, there are times the we have to “quizz” it. Only for it to get stuck on the worst possible action shot, the one we could see coming but not appropriate for the small folk. At all. Panic ensued, I couldn’t get it on, off, forwards, backwards, it wouldn’t do anything. It froze on Jennifer Anistons very effective enjoyment face. Thing 1 “Its ok Mummy, we know grown ups get hot and sweaty when they cuddle” I died a little bit.
Parenting Fail: Daddy Day Care
#BossBaby was a late talker. She didn’t really say anything until she could form full sentences, other than the usual Mama and Dada noises. Cute as a button and hasn’t stopped talking since. Unfortunately who she referred to as Daddy, was in fact my friends husband. If The Hubs took her out, she would quietly mouth to the nearest granny “Help Me” or better still, “you’re not my Daddy”.
Thankfully, most old ladies were either hard of hearing or slow on the uptake, so he didnt have to answer too many awkward questions over a small child proclaiming no relation to him. This continued for two whole years. That kid was literally born to be on stage. (should any body be questioning her heritage, she is without a doubt a fully licensed member of Team Twiglet).
Standard airport security queue after a late night flight, add in 3 hangry kids, all under the age of 3. You can imagine the stress levels in the air, they were practically palpable. The twins were riding their trunkies, but the queue suddenly started to move more quickly. I could feel my heart rise, and almost smell the toast I was dreaming of. I dutifully started towing one of the trunkies, only Thing 2 wasn’t holding on.
The clonk of his head on the tiled floor was so loud a universal Oooooooo was audible from the queue that surrounded him. Then there is that awful moment you are holding your breath, praying for the scream seemed to go on for DAYS. It was the worst slo-mo ever, I have never been more grateful for a screaming toddler in my life. I am eternally sorry Dude, it was one hell of an egg!
I hope that this little snap shot into some of my finer moments has made you smile with relief that no matter what fails you have experienced, there is a special niche of fails that could only happen to me,