Wednesday, January 9, 2013

"Daddy, why you say damn?"

Very often, whether it be at work or in other areas of life, I have this or something very close to this conversation.

"You have kids, right?"

"Yes, I have a daughter and a son on the way in March"

"Ohhhh, that's so fun! How old is your daughter."

"She is almost four."

"Ohhhh! That's so sweet, what a wonderful age."

Let's go ahead and take this time to discuss the validity of that last statement. First of all, as a man barreling toward 30 like an avalanche preparing to decimate a ski lodge, I have lived many ages. None of them are 'wonderful.' I sucked as a child, sucked as a teenager and sucked my way through my 20's. In fact, I feel it has only been the past three years in which I have really begun to cease sucking. My wife would probably argue that point with me.

It is cliche, but if I could find a time machine, possessing all of the knowledge that I have today, I would give anything to go back to my teenaged years and start over, because I would DOMINATE. I mean, totally dominate. I would be a millionaire. Women everywhere would be quivering. I would have a six pack.  Domination.

Anyway, one age that I do not remember being is three. Maybe I do a little bit. I am not one of those people who have vivid memories of childhood, I have blocked most of them out. But my earliest recollection of existence involves me throwing a fit in my bedroom, slamming my door and knocking off some cheesy hot air balloon door decoration with my name on it. Sounds about right for a three-year-old.

Heading in to parenthood all anyone kept saying was 'Terrible Two's, Terrible Two's, just wait for those Terrible Two's." I will say this, society is a year early. Sure, two-year-olds have their moments where you want to stuff them in a mailbox, but three-year-olds make you want to get a subscription to one of those websites where you can weigh your packages and pay for postage from your own house.  Yes, three-year-old girls are sweet and adorable. They do cute things like sing Christmas carols and say funny things because they don't really understand the meaning of certain words. Here are some of the other things they do.

*Spit at you
*Yell at you
*Deliberately and systematically destroy your home or apartment in a comprehensive and sweeeping fashion on a daily basis
*Pee their pants
*Totally ignore direction and discipline
*Routinely make other people question your parenting ability due to their dreadful public behavior.

The list goes on and on.

One of the things I enjoy about children growing older is their ability to become more independent. They go to the bathroom on their own. They can talk, walk and feed themselves without constant supervision. This also gives them free reign to be complete assholes.

Av has total ability to communicate. She can speak in full sentences and her words are usually easy to understand and quite often make sense. This is very helpful 75 percent of the time. The other 25 percent is spent saying things like "You're a moron. I don't like you. I am going to put you in the trash and they are going to take you away in the truck and squish you."

That's an actual quote. 

Being able to communicate also means that Av has full ability to understand what I am saying to her, follow my directions and execute tasks. This is something that she almost always chooses not to do.

On an average basis our conversations go one of three ways.

1. The 'ignore':

"Av, what do you want for lunch?"

(Silence)

"Avelyn, it is time to eat lunch, what would you like?"

(Silence)

"Av, tell me what you want for lunch or I am going to pick it out for you and you aren't getting up until you eat it."

(Silence)

"AV!"

"AVELYN"

"AVELYN WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR LUNCH?"

(Silence, looking forward)

(Me whistling)

"AVELYN!"

(Silence)

"Ok, fine, I am making you a grilled cheese"

Av: "I JUST WANT CHICKEN NUGGETS YOU MEEF!"


(Now would be a good time to introduce the word 'Meef.' This is a word that Avelyn has made up. No one has any idea what it means, but it is usually used in the tone and context of an insult. I am pretty sure that she made this up because she knows the chances of her getting in trouble are slim because there is no actual definition, therefore no grounds for discipline. If I ever find out what it means, though, she is probably grounded).

2. The 'argue fit':

Me: "Avelyn, I want you to please pick up your art supplies before you play something else."

Av: "NOOOOOOPPPEEEEEE"

Me: "Excuse me? Pickup your art supplies or you are not playing doll house"

Av: "YOU AREN'T PLAYING DOLL HOUSE YOU MEEF!"

Me: "Ok, you know what? I am going to just throw away your art supplies then."

Av: (Epic crying, yelling off 'NOOOOOOOOOOO')

Me: "Well then pick up the art supplies!"

Av: "YOU PICK UP THE DAMN ART SUPPLIES!"

Me: "Ok, here they go in to the trash. And now you are in a time out for saying fresh words. Get in the hallway" (We do time out in the front hallway because it is dark and cold and at one time she was a little bit afraid of it. I have long been against time out because I feel it is ineffective and yuppyish. One of many arguments I have lost, but I digress).

Av: (More screaming, eventually picks up the art supplies one by one in a fresh fashion)  "I don't even like you, Dad, I'm gonna give you away."

Me: "Please do. And make sure the family is rich and the women are attractive."

Av: YOUR A FRESH GUY!

Me: (Muttering under my breath) "I just want my damn 20's back"

Av: "Why you say damn?"

3. The"Grandma':

Sometimes when Av either doesn't understand something, or doesn't want to understand something, she pretends she cannot hear you.

Me: "Avelyn, we have to go to Home Depot to get a part for the toilet.

Av: "What?"

Me: "We have to go to Home Depot."

Av: "What?"

Me: "Home Depot. We have to go to Home Depot, please get your boots on."

Av: "What?"

Me: "PUT YOUR BOOTS ON AND TURN UP THE MIRACLE EAR, GRAMMA!"

Av: "What?"

Me: (Pinching the area between my eyes with my thumb and forefinger, speaking very quietly).
"We have to go to Home Depot because we need to get a part to fix the toilet so I need you to please but your boots on."

Av: "What?"

Me: "GRAMMA!!! AUNT MEREDITH CALLED THIS MORNING SHE SAID HELLO! UNCLE BOBBY IS IN THE HOSPITAL."

Av: What?"

Me: "I SAID AUNT MEREDITH CALLED, GRAMMA! SHE SAID HELLO. UNCLE BOBBY IS IN THE HOSPITAL."

Av: "What?"

Me: (Muttering under my breath) "Jesus Christ I just want my damn 20's back."

Av: "Daddy, why you say damn?"

That is about the long and short of it right there. There are a million other little things that take place. Like the total inability to rip off less than half a roll of toilet paper at a time. The insistence upon hitting me out of nowhere for no reason just to take out some sort of bizarre, pent up rage. The habit of turning off the TV every time Family Feud comes on. Seriously, a guy wants 30 minutes of Steve Harvey a day. 30 Minutes. I can't have 30 minutes of Steve Harvey and the Family Feud? This is totally unreasonable.

The worst seems to be days when she goes to school. I will pick her up at noon and by the time we get in to the car she has gone totally batshit crazy. It is almost like she has tried so hard to behave and be a sweet little girl for four and a half hours at school so when she gets back to me she just has to release all of her dickheadery at one time. She will refuse to sit in the car seat, kick me in the chest as I buckle her in, spit in my face, throw things, call me an idiot etc... The worst part of the whole thing is that punishment is futile. Usually she just laughs at me and if she actually does take me seriously there is so much epic crying and fit throwing that I literally just throw my hands up, take two Alieve and ignore her. I can't listen to the racket. I can't. Monica can sit there and listen to her scream and cry all day long. I can't do that. I don't have it in me. 

Don't get me wrong. I love my daughter. We have plenty of nice times together. But the next time somebody tells you that this is a 'wonderful' age for children just know that they either don't have any children of their own or they probably have children who have grown up to be dickhead adults or college kids who are bleeding them dry. They are longing for the days when their little children drew on the TV with marker just to see what the punishment would be.

I will leave you with a typical Crosby's Market three-year-old grocery shopping experience.

Av: "Daddy, I don't want to sit in the cart. Can I get a little guy cart and push it myself?"

Me: (Sigh) "Why don't you just walk next to the cart, you don't have to ride in it, but we need a big cart today."

Av: "Noooo, I want a little guy cart. Please, daddy? That little girl has a little guy cart!!"

Me: "Fine. But if you get the little guy cart you have to stay next to me the whole time. No grabbing things off the shelf unless I tell you it is ok and no running. You need to be a good listener and follow directions, ok?"

Av: "Ok!"

Me: "No, I want you to say it. Daddy, if I get a little cart I will be a good listener and follow directions."

Av: "Daddy, if I get a little cart I will be a good listener and follow directions."

Me: "Ok. Go grab the cart."

(Av grabs the cart, follows nicely behind me for about 3-4 minutes and then snaps, steals cucumbers from the salad bar, wanders off at the deli, crashes in to several old people)

Me: "Ok, ok, you know what? Why don't you go put that cart back if you can't listen."

Av: "Nooooooooooooooooooo." (Begins to tear up)

Me: "Ok, ok, ok, fine. Just... just please, please listen to me" (Trying desperately to avoid being 'that parent with the screaming kid' in the grocery store)

Av:"Daddy I think we need some of these"

(Grabs a handful of water chestnuts-- this actually happened, by the way)

Me: "No, those are water chestnuts. You don't even know what those are."

Av: "Yes I do they are water nuts or whatever you said"

Me: "You aren't going to eat those. I don't even know how to eat one of those."

Av: "Yes you do."

Me: "No, I definitely don't. I'm pretty sure you have to roast them."

Av: "Let's roast these water nuts, Dad."

(Takes two out of the bin, licks them, and puts them in the cart)

Me: "Ok, seriously? did you just lick those?"

Av: "Yeah , they tasted bad. Let's get them."

(Spins around and takes off running with the cart which immediately tips over and spills water chestnuts on to the floor.)

Me: "Ok. Let's go. C'mon. Let's, just- Let's go. We are close enough to being done."

Av: "I think we should just give our water nuts to the squirrels"

Me: (Muttering under my breath and looking to the heavens) "I just want my damn 20's back."

Av: "Daddy, why you say damn?"

***

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