Things I never thought I’d say

Becoming a parent means you subject yourself to new experiences – new joys, new challenges. You often find yourself in situations you could have never, ever fathomed.  And in these situations, there are things that come out of your mouth that are just crazy.

Brogan has put me through the wringer over the past two weeks… which makes for some serious stress on the home-front, but hey, it gives me something to write about! (Although in all seriousness, these are not all things I’m happy to be writing about!)

So here are the things my three-and-a-half year old has caused me to say as he’s been testing boundaries, pushing the limits and being downright defiant.

  • Don’t lick the gum on the sidewalk!!!” Oh, I wish I were making this up. At Stone Mountain this week, he was messing with some (very old) gum on the sidewalk, when I said, “Hey, that’s gum, don’t mess with it.” I turn around and before I knew it he’s down on all fours licking the gum. Freaking disgusting. Goldfish off the ground ain’t looking so bad anymore.
  • Put that ax back where you got it!” Brogan was playing outside and I notice that he’s carrying Blake’s ax from the shed around the backyard. I run outside to address the situation, and he says, “Don’t worry mommy, I’m really, really careful with sharp axes.” Right.
  • Do not put gas cans in the back of mommy’s car!” Followed by, “and don’t ever play with gas.” Pretty unfortunate story here… In an effort to not engage him in a power struggle and not yell and not chase him around my car, I allowed him to “drive” my car when we arrived home one afternoon last week. I took the keys and went inside with Beckett. Less than 10 minutes later he comes back inside, in a great mood and being somewhat compliant. I was thinking, Win!  Fast forward to the next morning on my drive in to work. Something caught my eye in the rear view mirror and as I look closer to figure out what in the heck it is, it dawns on me that there is a can of gasoline in the back of my SUV, sitting on top of my stroller. I start the four letter words under my breath (or maybe out loud, I was by myself, after all). Fast forward about 5 minutes and all the stupid cars in front of me slam on their brakes, requiring me to slam on mine. I checked the rearview mirror and there was no more gas can. The four letter words are certainly audible at this point. Seconds later the smell of gasoline hit me like a ton of bricks. And so although it was 20 something degrees outside, all the windows went down as I tried not to get high/pass out/die from the fumes. And now a week later, my car still reeks. I’ve had the carpet vacuumed, fully detailed, tried kitty litter, baking soda, airing out my car all weekend, all to no avail. Still riding around with windows down, hoping I’m not doing permanent brain damage to my kids (or me). The best advice I’ve received was from my neighbor – she suggested I put it on Craigslist, because there just might be people into that sort of thing.
  • It’s not okay to pee in the garage!” One morning last week, Brogan, while waiving me goodbye, proceeded it pull “it” out and start peeing, right there in the garage. Holding “it” with one hand, waiving to me with the other.
  • Do not kick your brother in the forehead down the stairs!” Okay, admittedly this did not come out of mouth verbatim. Unfortunately, it did happen, however, I was too busy screaming in horror as I watched Beckett fall backwards down the entire flight of stairs to reprimand Brogan in the moment. Thank God Beckett was okay – nothing more than a bruise on his face. Beckett was wearing a heavy coat so that helped keep most of him protected as he went down. Brogan was acting out of anger towards me… I had taken a toy away and he was throwing a fit on the stairs and when I told him to be careful (obviously, because he was on the stairs) and Beckett happened to crawl up and got a shoe to the noggin. The little guy was just an innocent bystander. We had Brogan write Beckett an apology note…


Sorry Beckett Love Brogan (squiggly lines at the bottom are the stairs)

On a positive note, the boys were really good tonight. It was low-stress, fun times in this house. Frozen pizza for dinner, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on repeat and no major catastrophes. After the last few weeks, I really, really needed it. So say a prayer for me… and Brogan… and Beckett… and might as well throw Blake in there too. Pray for listening skills, composure and safe keeping. Pray that this rash of incidents was just a blip on the radar and that we’re sailing into calmer seas. Pray that age four will agree with Brogan a little better and that we will all reap the benefits. And then lastly pray that Beckett does not pick up all of Brogan’s bad habits and that I’m not writing about the same stories in two years, authored by my youngest son. Amen.

One Comment

  • Kristi Harrell Anderson

    People who haven’t had kids would be quick to judge, but those who have are either nodding and thinking “been there” or at least taking mental notes and hoping to circumvent it somehow. I’ve underestimated how much trouble two kids can get into on their own. If things are quiet….you start to get worried.

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