To Not Be Prepared

Nothing prepared me for parenting my unique set of children. 

Over the course of the past nearly twenty years, I've experienced things and said things for which no one ever prepared me. Not one single person warned me. Shouldn't someone say something to you when you embark on the strange and strenuous journey of parenting? 

For example, when our first child was born, my husband and I decided to use the proper names for body parts - all body parts - with our children so that they wouldn't have issues talking about anything having to do with body parts with us or with healthcare professionals. For some reason, even at sixteen years old, I was mortified to say proper names for genetalia, or even say the word "ass" in front of my parents when it was part of a question in Trivial Pursuit about the animal, not the body part. I didn't want my children to have the same hang-ups as I did.

It turns out, a remainder of those hang-ups stuck with me and I still had some work to do. This came to light when my oldest child was potty training and decided to make up his own version of "Old MacDonald" to sing while going about his business. It went something like this: 

Old MacDonald had a penis. E I E I O
With a pee pee here and a pee pee there.
And a pee pee EVERYWHERE....

There were more verses that I'm not going to get into here.

It would be fine if he sang this song at home. But no. Public restrooms have much better acoustics. Thank goodness we were in a bathroom stall so people couldn't see my cheeks turn crimson.

As my years of parenting progressed, I found myself saying unexpected things. One that always leaps to mind was during the period of time when my fourth child refused to wear anything from the waist down when he was at home. The four year old autistic child learned quickly the importance of wearing pants, as the words, "Alia, Coren's penis is not a handle" slipped from my mouth. Alia was learning to pull herself to standing, and grabbed whatever was nearest in order to do so.

Eighteen years after the Old MacDonald debut, I somehow I assumed I'd heard, experienced, and said just about everything.  I couldn't have been more wrong. 

Recently, my transgender daughter started dating her transgender boyfriend. They are inseparable. As a mom, I felt like I needed to have a conversation with the two of them. I needed to have the conversation with the two of them. I had a conversation with them in which I basically had to say that it would be a good idea at this point in their lives for my daughter not to get her boyfriend pregnant. Let that sink in for a second. 

Nothing in life prepared me for the unique experiences I would have as a parent...at least not a parent to this horde of rannygahoots!