Knee Jerk Reaction

When a friend (or stranger I wish to suitably terrify) is on their way to having their first child (I don't mean driving to the hospital) I try to encourage them. Unfortunately my dictionary was missing a page so I just made my own definition for "encourage", which is "to subdue or subvert emotionally through the use of pessimistic predictions".

Life-of-the-party.

I say something like: "Hey, having kids will change you more than anything. It will exhaust you, make you question your sanity, drain you financially, and no matter how well you do you will suspect you are terrible whilst at the same time judging EVERYONE you know because they don't parent like you do. Oh, and the first time the kid dumps it will look like tar mixed with black licorice."

I cover the important things.

From the time the fleshy pink noisemaker can move you have to be quicker than a ninja goalie. By the way, if anyone wants me to get into hockey that would do it.

Kids are magnetically drawn to what will hurt them. They inexplicably toddle around carrying pull-toys until they embed them in their forehead, they pound their oversized neck ornament against coffee tables sending them to the hospital, they fall down ravines trying to outrun snowballs.

Sorry for all that Mom.

Not only is that needed, but you need the mental adeptness to stop them when they are old enough to outrun you. In a split second you must:

- Determine why what they are doing this time is wrong.
- Decide whose fault it is.
- Evaluate whether positive or negative incentive is required.
- Assess the parenting volume (whisper of death or voice of doom) and voice (icy, restrained, or bezerker goblin with hemorrhoids)

It is at that moment that parents most frequently suffer random temporal negative cognitive development adjustment. You say a stupid.

I regularly cycle through my children's names before settling on "you in my line of sight". I have 2 children. I utter threats that mean nothing like "I'll tear the arms off a cushion-less chair and tickle you with them if you don't stop!" And occasionally I mix truncated cursing with guttural rage that could be confused for speaking in tongues.

The other day my children were avoiding bedtime while simultaneously playing with some helium balloons. It was my wife's turn to get them moving because I had managed to look too busy to be involved. My bride's rapier wit eluded her at this moment. It was like watching palsied mongoose.

Her: "Put those balloons down and go to bed! You heard me."

I looked at the roof where the balloons lay. "Down? If the kids are bright they will try, that will take a few minutes."

I would offer hope to other parents, and the best I can manage is learn to laugh quietly at your spouse when they say those things. The flummoxed inarticulate can still hit.