Facts They Never Told You #7

This fact is actually more a story, but the fact will be revealed at the end.

So Lucas was about 14 months old, and my mom (who takes care of Lucas and a few other kids during the week) decided it was time to show him how to color, especially since the other kids like to do it so much. We were pleasantly surprised at how well he did it, and how he knew very quickly both not to eat the crayons, as well as not to color on anything other than paper.

So we went to O'Charley's, a favorite for us. Not only because of the free bread, but because kids eat free. (There's a bonus fact for you: find restaurants where kids eat free.) They give Lucas crayons. We hadn't actually witnessed him coloring yet, so as we watched, he colored his menu, and did a relatively good job at staying on the paper. There was one incident where he attempted to color his oranges, but other than that, he didn't attempt to eat them, color his food, or use his food to color his paper. We were about ready to crown him as the next Albert Einstein.

We pile into the Jeep, on our way to Target. Evidently, we didn't have enough bookcases--because we like to read so much, I think we may need a house that is ALL bookcases at some point. About halfway between the restaurant and Target, I hear a "bleah" sound from the back seat. Now, I don't mean the "bleah" you say when someone says, "Hey, what did you think of that new Britney Spears song?" I mean the "bleah" you hear when someone barfs.

So I asked Erin to look back in the back, and she says, "No, everything is fine." Then..."Wait. He MAY have thrown up, I don't know." Then..."Wait..." and she holds something up in front of my face (always a good idea when driving). It was half a crayon. Half. Because the other half had been ingested and regurgitated all over his shirt.

Of course, Erin has to go to the bathroom, so I get to have the enjoyment of cleaning both dinner and tons of little crayon bits off his clothes. The key is not to make him spotless, because then the shirt would be soaked...but just to make him look clean enough where people aren't dialing DFS from their cell phones as you walk by, because you're obviously neglecting your child by making him wear his own puke.

The fact of this story: NEVER trust your kid. They may do something perfectly 100 times in a row, but the ONE time you turn your back, they are on the roof with a patio umbrella, have their head in an industrial paint shaker at Lowe's, or spewing crayon like a lawn sprinkler. More to come with this fact later.

Facts They Never Told You #6

This week, it's all about feeling helpless. Have you ever felt completely helpless and useless? No? Well, get used to it!

Here's what I mean. You don't feel well, you pop a few Aleve, or maybe some NyQuil or something, and BAM! somewhat better--or completely better.

Now, your kid gets sick. You are helpless on many levels.

The first level is in the diagnosis. If they don't have a fever, you don't have a clue if they're sick, teething, tired, or all of the above. Even if they HAVE a fever, all you know is that the kid is sick. You don't know if they have a headache, stomachache, cramps, soreness, chills, too hot, constipation, or any random other symptoms. Even worse, who's to say there isn't some other kind of childhood pain and suffering we aren't even aware of? Did you ever think about that? We don't know...and chances are, by the time kids are old enough to tell you what's wrong, they may have blocked out that pain. I mean, their rib cage could be throbbing, or their eyeballs might feel like they are going to burst, or their kidneys might be boiling and overheating their stomach or something. You would never know.

The second level of helplessness is in the cure. That's just it...the only cure is their own bodies. Think of it this way: the next time you have the flu, or allergy flare-ups, or a migraine, or anything...do NOTHING. Tough it out. Because that's what your baby has to do. Yeah, enjoy that.

Seriously. You can't give them anything else but Acetaminophen. And if your baby is 6 months or less, you can't even do THAT. It's a little disconcerting to know that the cure for a headache is the same as for diarrhea. Really, it is kind of comparable to taking a cow, and giving it laughing gas while you carve the T-bone off of it. It still has to be excruciating pain...the gas can't really help but numb it a bit.

It's like when the doctor asks you how much pain you're feeling on a scale of 1 to 10. Baby medicine is like taking a 10 and making it a 9.7. Sweet, sweet relief. Instead of jumping off a building, you'd probably just want to drink yourself into a coma instead.

The third--and worst--part of the helplessness is the ineptness you feel. Your kid is screaming in pain, you've got three hours until they get any more medicine, and you just want to punch yourself because you can't make it any better. So you rock the screaming kid, and say stupid things like, "Sssshhhh...it'll be okay. It's going to be just fine."

So here's what you should do. Take a railroad spike, put it directly through your skull, and have a friend sit next to you and say those same things. You'd probably grab your friend by the throat and say, "No, you moron! It isn't going to be any better! My head is going to explode! If you don't do something NOW to make me feel better, I'm going to turn you into a voodoo doll!" Yeah, that's how your kid feels.

I used to laugh at new parents who treated their babies like they were the kid in the bubble. Hey, if it works...well, those bubbles can't be too expensive, can they?

Facts They Never Told You #5

Let me start this post by telling you a fact that everyone DOES tell you: As soon as kids can figure out how to move their hands to their mouths, everything they grab goes in there.

So you're thinking, "Okay, just be careful when they grab your cell phone, a crayon, a penny, or whatever." Well...yes. Although, if you're smart, you'll make sure those things never see your child's hand anyway. At least, not until they're old enough to handle it. And in the case of the cell phone, that may be the age of 25 or so.

ANYWAY, I am off topic.

The Fact for this post is: Your child will also try to eat things you don't even think they can SEE yet.

"Like what?" you may ask. Oh, I don't know...like lint. Dog hairs. Dust. A random thread on the floor. Hair.

As soon as Lucas could crawl, he had an affinity for anything that contrasted with the floor. We'd see the hand go towards the mouth with any of the above-listed objects in it--usually too late to prevent it from reaching his digestive system.

I once heard that if you swallow gum, it sits in your stomach for almost seven years before it leaves (not true, by the way). I would think that if the same held true for thread, Lucas will pass a sweater by the time he enters the 2nd grade. Should be entertaining.

Anyway, the point is this: You will be forced to keep a clean house--or forced to accept the fact that your child will digest as much from the 5 food groups as he or she will from the "this stuff is not meant to be food" food group.

And you know, since my earlier facts had to do with the lack of sleep you're already going to be getting, good luck keeping up with the extra workload.

But hey, kids are a blessing!!!

(Seriously, they are. But man, you don't know what "tired" is until then...)

Facts They Never Told You #4

So, one thing everyone tells you that has kids is that they were also nervous before the child arrived. They were fearful that they would hurt it, raise it wrong, end up with some sort of Mike Tyson-child-eating-monster, etc. That is true. However, there is also another disturbing fact I have noticed (and I am going to get SO many people commenting/blasting me here, and well deserved):

When you are having a kid, everyone who has a kid has advice for you.

Lots of it.

And most of it conflicts the advice you heard an hour ago from someone else.

And this isn't exclusive to the parents of those awesome, smart, well-adjusted kids, either. I swear, if Mrs. Menendez was still alive (look up "Menendez brothers" if you are too young to catch the reference), she would be sitting around in a living room somewhere saying, "Well, what I learned was..."

Look, I am not just being "that guy" who is tossing stones faster than a pitching machine designed by The Road Runner. I have caught myself doing it. And if you know me, you know that I have about as much business giving parenting advice as Chris Brown has of giving "caring spouse" lessons. Somehow, it just happens.

Prime example: A couple of friends have a little guy who seems to be very colicky. Lucas was a bit colicky. So here I am, telling these poor people what they need to do, and that they should give everyone else the ol' one-finger salute if they differ from our opinion. Only to realize later that when my wife and I were going through that phase with him, we would look at him and say stupidly, "I don't know what else to do!"

So, just because I am a huge fan of irony, here's my advice:

1. Get a sandwich board. If you don't know what that is, then just get a really big sign to hang around your neck.

2. Write this message: "Yes, I am having a child. No, I don't have any questions. I took a test, and found out I will be the perfect parent. But thank you for caring."

3. Be sure to wear said sign--ESPECIALLY around family events--until your youngest child gets a Nobel Peace Prize, or at the very least, receives a diploma from Harvard.

Facts They Never Told You #3

Okay, so this one is a little gross. You have your warning. But it's SO true.

Years before Lucas was born, we went to the birthday party of one of my wife's friend's children (did you follow that)? Anyway, one of the other parents had a baby who was about six months old. Halfway through the party, the dad yelled, "Uh oh, we got a leaker!" When he lifted the baby over his shoulder, I saw what a "leaker" was. The baby had runny, nasty feces running up its back.

Well, I about lost my lunch. It was SO gross to me. The amazing thing was that the dad LAUGHED as he went to go change the "leaker." I remember thinking to myself, "Perhaps when it's your kid, it's not as disgusting as that."

For the record, the answer to that remark is yes. Yes, it's still just as disgusting. The only difference is that YOU have to clean it, not just look at it and re-swallow the bile in your throat.

Since I have already made clear that Fact #3 is about feces, let's just start at the beginning. When babies are born, they mess with you. Their feces are black and a bit sticky, but they don't smell like anything. Seriously--it really doesn't smell bad. I firmly believe God does this because He knows no one in their right mind would keep a kid if they knew what was coming.

So after a few months, things change. It becomes smellier...and much greater in volume. And no diaper in the world can contain it all. Let me give you a few phrases that my wife and I would mutter to the other in between gagging:

Up his back.

Down his legs.

All over the crib.

Dripping.

To his shoulders and neck.

On my leg.

Covered my hands.

I could keep going, but I think you get the idea. Should you decide to venture into parenthood--or partake in activities that could LEAD to parenthood--know that this IS in your future. The only way to never get immersed in it is to wrap your child in trash bags up to his or her neck, and use a fire hose in a car wash. And trust me here, the car wash employees, other customers, and the police do NOT look kindly upon this behavior for some reason. They like it even less when you reply, "Well, how do YOU propose I clean him without touching it?"

Again, I know this was gross--and trust me, I wish I hadn't LIVED it--but get ready.

Facts They Never Told You #2

So this addition is the things no one ever bothered to tell you about kids until it's too late. You know, like when your wife is in labor, and they say, "Oh, by the way..." and they lay some horrible fate that will inevitably occur at some point in your tenure as parent. OR, even worse, something happens, and you are simply floored by events. Then when you tell someone with kids, they say, "Yep. Probably should have warned you about that."

These facts will be twofold in purpose: one, to give you all the facts you can in order to truly decide if children are worth it if you don't have any; two, for those of you with kids to say, "Yeah! Someone should have told me that!"

Fact #2: You become dumber than a "Jersey Shore" cast member due to severe sleep deprivation.

Oh, you don't believe me? You think I am lying when I tell you that you drift from one thing to another, cannot concentrate on a single conversation, and when you look back on the first few months, you don't even remember it?

First of all, you have some nerve, mister.

Second, here's two stories that will help you understand. I am ridiculously organized. I know my schedule for weeks in advance. At my current job, I rotate between two locations--and these locations are nearly 20 miles apart, so it's imperative--when you already are sleeping less than normal--that you sleep every minute you can. I got more than halfway to work one morning, when I realized that I was on the way to the wrong place. It was the first time I had ever--in 12 years of education--been late to work.

Okay, the other one is even more awesome. For awhile, my sister wanted to watch Lucas every other Friday, because she had a very flexible work schedule. So imagine my surprise when I showed up to my parents' house to pick up Lucas, only to realize he wasn't there.

You laugh, but I really felt like "Dad of the Year" at this point.

So if you want to know what the first few months are like:

1. Get a friend, and give them a watermelon.

2. Lay down.

3. Have them drop the watermelon on your head. Preferably right above the temple, so that it gives a good concussed feeling.

4. Repeat every day for four months.

Enjoy.

Facts They Never Told You #1

So this addition is the things no one ever bothered to tell you about kids until it's too late. You know, like when your wife is in labor, and they say, "Oh, by the way..." and they lay some horrible fate that will inevitably occur at some point in your tenure as parent. OR, even worse, something happens, and you are simply floored by events. Then when you tell someone with kids, they say, "Yep. Probably should have warned you about that."

These facts will be twofold in purpose: one, to give you all the facts you can in order to truly decide if children are worth it if you don't have any; two, for those of you with kids to say, "Yeah! Someone should have told me that!"

So here is fact #1:

You. Don't. Sleep. Like at all for the first four months. People KIND OF tell you this, because they'll say, "Oh, the baby will need to be fed about every three hours at first."

You think, "Well, that kind of sucks, but hey, at least I'll sleep about 2 1/2 hours here, 2 1/2 hours there. We'll get through it."

Uhhhh, yeah, well, the kid doesn't go back to sleep right away most of the time. So a typical three hour period goes something like this:

2 am: Baby wakes up. Hungry.
2:02 am: You shove the wife out of the bed to go get the baby, since you are physically unable to feed it (just kidding here...there were times I fed by bottle, or at least got the kid--but it IS tempting)
2:30 am: Feeding done. Baby goes back down to bed, you collapse in bed.
2:30 am, 12 seconds: Baby starts crying. Does not want to sleep.
2:31 am-3:15 am: Repeat last two steps.
3:15 am: Baby falls asleep. For real.
3:30 am: You finally fall back asleep.
4:30 am: Baby wakes up again. Cycle repeats.

Time elapsed: 2 1/2 hours
Time slept: 1 hour

Multiply this by an average night, you may sleep 3-4 hours total. In pieces.

If you want to know what that's like, take 4 Benadryl, but force yourself to stay awake. Yeah. It's like that. With the hallucinations.

Tip #2 next week involves the effect of this lack of sleep. It's freaking awesome.