Every once in a while, as I’m putting together the multiple components that make up my child’s baby bottle, I’m reminded of nearly every action movie I’ve ever seen where a gunman, usually a sniper, quickly assembles his riffle before taking aim at some foreign dignitary from a “perch” atop a building. Not that a baby bottle is anything like a gun, unless it’s a squirt gun, but sometimes I wonder what my life would be like as a movie. More importantly, I wonder which beautiful and talented A-list actress would be best qualified to play the role of me. Inevitably I settle on Angelina Jolie, but I digress. If life as a parent were really just a movie, it would be much easier. There would be the humor, the occasional witty banter, the conflict, and the resolution with its happy ending where everyone would have grown, learned a valuable lesson, and realized they loved each other even more than they did two hours ago.

But, of course, parenting isn’t a movie. It’s real, unscripted, drama. If life as a parent were a movie, we could read ahead in the script. We would then know that our toddler was about to take a tumble down the stairs, and we could catch him before it happened. We could predict which trip to the grocery store would bring home a stowaway which would leave the entire family sick for weeks. We would know that if we forget to turn off the stove before the water evaporates when boiling bottle nipples, the house will smell sickeningly like burnt rubber. But, alas, life is unscripted and unpredictable. That’s what makes it a comedy and sometimes a tragedy. And so it is with parenting.

This blog focuses on the comedic aspect of child-raising. No parent in their right mind would say bringing up children comes without its difficulties. But often the tragic moments become humorous over time and with new perspective.

This blog is especially written for new parents, those who haven’t had enough experience to laugh through their tears, as my mother would always say. Life has taught experienced parents that poop happens: usually in the diaper, sometimes in the clothes, and often on your lap, or your mother-in-law’s lap, your pastor’s lap, or your boss’ lap. The point is, parents, these things happen. They happen to the best of us. You are not alone.

45 responses »

  1. Your mother sounds, like, brilliant. Has she written anything? I believe your mother also said, “If it was easy, everyone would be doing it,” which might also apply to the few, the brave, the parents. Or at least, the few and the brave who have more than one child.

    Flo, mom of 3

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  2. When the blogger’s husband was three years old, his family didn’t allow complaining. Complaining could only be done at a family meeting. So three year old Paul went to his mother and requested a family meeting because he had something to complain about. His request was made in total seriousness. I don’t remember what that complaint was about, but I do remember thinking how cute and precious he was. We all gathered at the kitchen table and little Paul stated his complaint and we worked it out (whatever it was) to his satisfaction.

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  3. Love the idea behind this blog. As my blog is about the positive things about marriage, (often the sweet and the funny), I can certainly relate. Looking forward to reading more!

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  4. People who don’t think parenting is hard, are either lying, or not doing it right. I swear, seeing the humour in it is the only reason I’m still at home and not in the psych ward. Although really, the psych ward would be pretty relaxing I’m sure…I might consider it. Anwyay, nice intro!

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  5. Wanted to thank you for stopping by foodforfun’s picque-nique and cookie:-) Glad you did so I could find you. Love your Categories. Looks to be some entertaining reading!

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  6. I had to quote part of your very funny, semi-inappropriate intro in my newest post, Heavens to Betsy. Thanks!

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  7. I invented an award (yeah, I’m cool like that)…that while in it’s infancy appears to be meager, but once it takes over the world…well, it will probably still be meager. Anyway, it’s just my way of saying I like what you’re up to. You can just accept it if you want, no strings attached…a.k.a. you don’t have to write a post about it, just stick it with your other awards. You can pick it up here: http://lora-banks.com/the-blogtastic-blog-award/

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  8. Poop happens! I say that all the time…of course there are times my 3-year-old son will correct me and say, “Shi# happens not poop dada!” YIKES!!! I can at least say I didn’t teach him that word. i give my wife full credit for it (and to think she thought I would be the first one to teach him a curse word) Now that my son talks more and more I just ask myself, “Who wanted him to talk again?”

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    • Haha. I totally understand the “who wanted him to talk again?” way of thinking. Our first talked so little so late we were nervous there was an issue. Then the second one came along and talked so much and so loud, we suddenly realized how great we had had it with the first!

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