Parenting, like life, is mostly guessing, some common sense, and a lot of mistake making. So, when I hear the term “Epic Fail,” I think of the time:
I thought my toddler was old enough to color without being supervised. And she painted a series of symbols on her arm that may or may not have translated into: “Hey stupid, I’m not old enough to be left alone with markers.”
I decided getting that last burp out of the baby wasn’t really important. Because at two in the morning fifteen minutes of burping, a baby takes about four years less than the Second World War. When the baby regurgitated half the Pacific Ocean all over his crib, I decided burping was less work than remodeling an entire bedroom.
When I made Pinterest-inspired finger paints out of cornstarch and water. And my kids ate them.
I decided to put more water into the tub while my two-month-old was in it. And the Niagara Falls whoosh of the running water gave my child a fear of the bathtub. One that was so bad, all she had to do was look at the tub, and she’d start screaming like there was a nine foot shark in there.
I decided to catch the baby’s spit up before it landed on the couch. And I did. I would have been so proud of myself if it hadn’t been for the fact that I deflected the spit up back into the baby’s face. All I could see was a pair of blinking eyes.
I decided it would be easier to give the cat a bath in the kitchen sink instead of in the tub. Yes, I bathe my cats. When we moved into our house, the deep kitchen sink and faucet spray hose seemed pretty ideal for bathing the cat faster than in the tub. Long story short, I was soaking wet, and my husband had to peel the cat off my back.
I decided nap time was a great time to schedule playgroup. Because who doesn’t like to leave their destination fifteen minutes after they’ve arrived? It’s like throwing a party for yourself then leaving before all the guests show up. If I had I stayed, half the city would’ve witnessed a meltdown so dramatic it could’ve won Academy Awards in twelve different categories.
I decided I didn’t need the diaper bag. Oh, but I did.
I decided to make my toddler’s lunch more fun so she’d eat it. I created a cat face out of her lunch using all the fruits and veggies she liked. She played with it for awhile until it looked less like a cat and more like a Picasso. Then she asked for a snack.
When we built up hype about the animal sanctuary. And the bridge was so high the animals weren’t visible to the naked eye. But we walked down the bridge anyway because we were there. And we pointed out specs that could’ve been animals, but could’ve also been rocks or bushes, and everyone cried because they wanted to go to the zoo and have ice cream.
As far as epic fails go, it could be a lot worse. I’ll admit the bath stuff was a legitimately traumatizing experience for my child—the cat too. But, thanks to my mistakes, I’ve learned. Now I know the symbols my child scribbles on herself, or her sister’s forehead, are likely a message in response to those mistakes. Like: “Hey stupid, next time bring ice cream with you to the most boring animal exhibit ever.”
This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post. Each week, Kristi at Finding Ninee hosts bloggers and writers who want to participate in a prompt and make new writer friends. This week’s sentence is “When I think Epic Fail, I think…” This week’s co-hosts are: Allie at The Latchkey Mom and April at 100lb Countdown.