There are multiple safeguards that God built in to make parenting doable. For one thing, babies are adorable. Not at birth, mind you. A very select group of infants come out looking like humans, but the majority are more what my dad (RIP) often referred to as “boiled monkeys”. The man had a way with words. But later, some time post-birth, they get fat little elbow dimples and ginormous Disney-eyes or what have you, and the cuteness gets significant. That is super useful, because they scream a lot and they don’t really sleep, and the whole constant-poop thing- it would be a deal breaker if it were someone that just looked like a normal guy or a goblin or something.
There are other safeguards but I’m a pretty lazy blogger so I’ll just skip to the main one.
This is a condition that occurs in childbearing women, often immediately after delivering a baby. I call it mom-nesia, which is an arguably unclever amnesia reference. Maybe I’m rusty.
Here’s how it goes down, a lot of the time. (disclaimer: this is not how it goes down with me, because I am in labor for 4 full months and then give birth to miniature children. but this is how I understand it goes down):
Mother: (screaming, etc)
Everybody else: “Breathe, relax, push, etc.”
Childbirth: “I WILL KILL YOU NOW AND HAVE YOUR SOUL.”
Mother: “Never mind, I will just stay pregnant. I don’t want to do this, I’m getting up and going home AIIIIEEEE *&*&&!!@ MADRE DE DIOS.”
(general screaming, pain and blood, magic fairy dust and daydreams for the natural birth crowd)
Mother: “Let’s have more children!”
I get momnesia every time I take my kids on vacation.
Me: “Let’s go have a magical Amaro filtered beach trip with our 4 well behaved children.”
the Man of God: “Vacation with kids is not vacation.”
Me: (a lot of things, sounds of vacation beginning)
All of our money: “See ya suckas!”
(general sounds of our kids fighting and falling down and refusing to eat overpriced restaurant meals)
the Man of God: (not saying anything)
Much later, in the last 30 minutes of vacation, we watch a sunset together. The children, sun-weary and full and content, sit beside us, and for a moment there is magic
Me: “Let’s ALWAYS go on vacations!”
It happens everywhere. I ground them and forget they’re grounded. I take them to the store because I forget about what happens when I take them to the store. “We can handle the post office,” I think, because I have a disease. “What is your name?” I ask them, “you, with the hat.” I let them stay up late because surely they will sleep in tomorrow.
I would think there was a cure, a pill or an amount of time that will heal me and I will remember. The cold reality is, momnesia is terminal. You will live with it forever.
My mom: “You kids never acted like that.”
Me: “I have VIDEOS of us acting EXACTLY like that.”
My mom: “Nope”
On the bright side, I think I’ll get an Amaro filter for my old age.
Me, in my senior years: “We used to take magical vacations with you kids.”
My Adult Children: (guilty) “We should take our kids on vacation, why don’t we ever do that? It will be beautiful and perfect.”