Remember that charming book for pregnancy, What to Expect When You're Expecting? I loved that book so much when I was pregnant the first time. This week, my baby is the size of an olive. This week, my baby is developing teeth buds. Outside the occasional shame I felt at how very short I fell according to their stringent nutritional standards, I loved that book. It broke down development of the baby month by month and demystified pregnancy. Who isn't charmed by the idea of a grape-fruit sized baby whose eggs are forming in her tiny uterus?
I was equally edified by What to Expect the First Year and What to Expect from the Toddler Years. Again, the advice was lofty, but as an intellectual and a wanna-be scholar, there's no better feeling for me than being able to pull a book off the shelf, do a little research, jab a finger at a passage and say "AH HA!" The pregnancy and toddler books provided me a touchstone. I like to think there's a book out there to answer most of life's dilemma's and puzzles. College told me so. It should be true, right?
But then came babies. And now, I have three elementary school-aged kids: aged five, seven, and nine. I'm looking for the right reference to tell me what to expect in the next stage of parenting, not to mention how the heck to handle it. Because I'm starting to get scared that I'm wandering into some dangerously unknown territory. I'm doing the best I can as I stumble along, but y'all? I am seriously outnumbered. So in the interest forewarning, here's my stab at just an excerpt from what I've learned so far that might be printed in What To Expect from Multiple School Aged Children Living in Your House:
Expect to clean your house thoroughly again maybe ten or fifteen years later from now. Embrace crunchy floors and sticky surfaces. Embrace the fact the children's rooms may, indeed, become condemnable. Expect your furniture to buckle and break under fearless feats of living room gymnastics. Expect full contact football games to break out indoors at any given time. Expect pillows to be used as both weapons and launching pads. Expect your carpet to take on the hues of puke, juice, toothpaste, and/or bright pink children's medicines. If it's valuable, put it in storage now, or expect to sweep up the broken shards.
Expect to fully support your pediatrician's golf habit and retirement fund as you will see him often. Expect to enjoy other people's phlegmy children and the looped "Lion King" on the DVD player in the waiting room. Expect to keep the well children you've brought along to bring their Circque Du Living Room to the waiting room furniture. Expect the little hands in the night that wake you with "Mommy? I don't feel good." Expect to work at your laptop with a feverish sidekick who's SO BORED. Expect to spend your 401K on orthodontia.
Expect your children to behave as characters on professional wrestling: there will be bloody fights, drama, constant bickering, and so, so much screaming followed by the occasion illegal body slam. Your elementary school-aged children will fight over any and everything: time to talk. Toys. A plate of invisible cookies. I kid you not. Expect to don your black and white striped jersey: you are honorary referee. Expect to become a time-out ninja, able to move the dead weight of a nine year old boy gone slack all Ghandi-style at a single bound. Expect the debut of fart jokes and dirty words. Expect them to be told to Grandma.
Expect to spend hours at lessons, in studios, on fields, and freezing your heinie off on a metal stadium bench. Expect to coordinate an activity schedule that requires an Excel spreadsheet and a degree from MIT to keep straight. Expect to borrow money from your own parents to pay fees, supplies, and for uniforms. Prepare to be snack parent knowledgeable about both proper nutrition, peanut allergies, gluten intolerance, and possibly the merits of dye-free beverages. Expect to mandatorily "volunteer" at concession stands doling out sketchy, wrinkly hot dogs and cotton candy.
Prepare for homework. Prepare to admit that, yes, indeed, you are not smarter than a fifth grader and to feverishly Google to delay your child's learning how dim you actually are. Expect to huddle on small chairs to help prepare your child's individual education plan. Expect to attend countless crowded gatherings in school multipurpose rooms to hear small children sing in groups. Expect to be phoned by your school's principal or nurse at the exact moment you are due to give a presentation at work or while you're in the produce section, cart over-topped. Expect to attend to cater and attend holiday classroom parties where you will watch your child become insane on carbs while you stare awkwardly at other parents, count ceiling tiles, or examine your shoelaces.
Oh, I could go on. There are so many surprises of the elementary school years of which I could be your harbinger. It's a wild time, and it's all about them. They're the rock stars; we're just the roadies. The good news is you can also expect some pretty funny conversations, increased availability of child labor, and lots of love and cuddles to go with all of the above. If you're lucky like me, expect to feel your heart fill up as you look around the dinner table at all their little darling dirty faces, even as they all simultaneously argue over the menu. And if I'm truly fortunate? After it's all said and done, I expect them to put me in a really swanky nursing home.
