bigpimpinmba's Diaryland Diary

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Parenthood ain't easy

OK, I know you saw the BigPimpinMBA light up and you figured you�d pop on over to this idiotic site to see what hilarity will ensue. (Sorry it�s been a while� I�ve been in a bit of a writer�s funk and then was traveling again�.)

Sorry, but this is probably the first �serious entry� that you have ever read on this site. Go ahead and read it anyway.

In the immortal words of Ted Knight as Judge Smails, �You�ll get nothing and like it.�

�.

My wife and I were having a conversation the other day about why it sucks being a good parent.

It sometimes feels like we are the only parents who understand that it is OK to say �No� to their kids anymore.

We don�t let our kids have whatever they want.

We don�t let our kids do whatever they want.

Shocking. I know.

And, guess what? Our kids really seem to still like us.

Maybe even love us.

If you are reading this and are a parent, take my word for it. Your kids will not hate you if you actually lay down rules and stick to them. In fact, quite the opposite is probably true.

Are my kids (or should I say kid because my daughter is only 11 months old right now and maybe it�s a little early to assume what kind of child she will be) happy to hear me tell them �No� when they want something?

Absolutely not.

In fact, they may end up crying, yelling and screaming about the perceived inequity. (This behavior will also earn them a time-out and a stern talking-to.)

However, I know that I would put my son�s manners and gratitude up against 90% of the children I�ve seen.

I know so many kids who get whatever they want, whether it be in toys, playtime, food or what have you. You may think that giving your kid whatever they want when they want it will make your kid your buddy and make them love you more.

Here�s a little secret.

It won�t.

Kids are smarter than you think. And once they realize that they can get they want from you, whether it be by asking, crying, screaming or throwing a fit, you�re straight tootin� that they will use that method as long as they can to get what they want from you.

And getting what they want will NOT make them love you more or make you their buddy.

It turns your kid into a spoiled brat who knows how to manipulate you. Think about it. You�re being manipulated by a small child. How does that make you feel? You can go ahead and tell yourself that you�re not being manipulated, but you�re wrong.

Take a step out of your own shoes and look at your situation. Your kid is yelling at you. Your kid hits you and kicks you. And yet, they still get what they want. Does this sound like the behavior of a person who loves you more because you let them get away with it?

Ummmmm no.

Whether you want to admit it or not, you�re raising a brat and people don�t like your kid. They�ll tell you what a cute kid he or she is to your face, but when they are driving home from your house, they�ll be talking about the atrocious behavior of your kid and why you let them get away with that behavior.

I�m sure that some people are shocked by the fact that we give our son a time out in the middle of his own birthday party for talking fresh or if we won�t let our son go out and play until he has apologized to one of their friends who he has shoved or taken a toy from. Believe me, it�s not easy to do and we don�t like having to do it.

But, I�m pretty sure that these are the same people who are constantly complimenting my son on his manners and remarking to us that he is so polite and well behaved. (And if I sound like I�m bragging, you�re damn right I am. We work hard to raise a polite child and I�m proud of that.)

The worst part of being a good parent is when my son gets together with one of his friends who is a little punk. Inevitably, when we get home and for the next few days, we have to deal with some sort of bad behavior that he has picked up and it takes the better part of a week or so of time outs and �talking-tos� to correct the behavior that he has picked up.

And I think that we could probably count on one hand the number of times that we�ve had to spank our son so far (He�s a bit over 3 and any parent will probably tell you that years 2 and 3 are the two years where kids are really putting you to test). Not that we are saying that we may not have to resort to or are completely against spanking, if necessary. It�s just that, we�ve found by �staying on top of our kid� about his bad behaviors, we haven�t found ourselves in too many situations where we�ve had to resort to more than time outs �talks�.

I am one of the goofiest, mostest super-funnest Dads that you will probably ever see with their kids. I love to make my kids laugh more than just about anything else in the world. And it shows in my kids. They both have the greatest laughs and smiles ever.

I run around with my son pretending to be Shrek in my swamp, Mr. Incredible, Buzz Lightyear, Gordon the train or any other silly thing that my son wants me to do.

My kids spend more time in the air because I�m throwing them, or being tickled than almost any other kid out there.

Being a strict parent does not mean that you can�t have fun.

I guess if my parenting skills don�t work, you can always resort to NoGoodDaddy�s parenting methods�.

��

ATTENTION: GRAPHIC FLU DESCRIPTION TO FOLLOW

After my last entry that ended with yours truly having a truly epic battle with the toilet, I left off with being able to poorly provide for my children in my weakened state, while my wife was out taking in my niece�s Opera�.

Well, I was able to get my daughter a bottle and to bed before collapsing on the couch and throwing on some sort of entertainment for my son to bide the time until Mrs. Pimp showed up to put my son to bed because I was absolutely weak from my struggles with the porcelain throne.

Almost from the time she got home, she was basically urging me to get my rank ass up to bed.

Well, as she was putting Lil� Pimp to bed, my rank ass decided that it was going to get me up for her and I had another round of my version of the Thrilla in Manilla in the downstairs bathroom.

I thought that I was done, so I decided that I needed to make my way upstairs, but only made it to the bottom of the stairs where I got very weak and suddenly quite nauseous and could not make it up the stairs. My wife came down the stairs to find me laying at the bottom of the stairs, unable to move.

When I told her that I was not going to be able to make my way to either bathroom before tossing some cookies, she thought very quickly and grabbed a garbage bag for me to boot into.

Now, up until this point, the flu had been quite awful to me, but I definitely wasn�t prepared for the curveball that was to be thrown at me next.

As my stomach continued to empty itself into the plastic bag that my wife so lovingly held in front of me, my other end decided that it was missing out on the fun.

That�s right, folks.

I shit myself.

And since I was so weak, my wife had to continue to stand there, holding a plastic bag in front of me so I wouldn�t puke on the rug. Looking back, I�m pretty sure that Mrs. Pimp was quite tempted to put the bag completely over my head and seal it with a ziplock, just so she wouldn�t have to deal with her incontinent husband.

And because Desperate Housewives was coming on in like 5 minutes and she didn�t want to miss it.

That�s love for you.

�.

Well, she got hers the next night. Along with the kids. The whole family picked up the fantastic version of the Asian Bird Flu that I had apparently contracted when playing with those chickens on that Malaysian farm.

And they all proceeded to get it within an hour and a half of each other, starting around midnight on Monday night into Tuesday. My wife, son and daughter were all throwing up at various intervals, with the worst being my son, every 15 minutes for approximately four and one half hours.

So, Daddy, barely over the Emu Flu of Death, was relegated to kiddy-duty, while jamming to the WifePuke soundtrack, coming from the Master Suite.

I�ve had some rough nights before, but nothing compared to being exhausted from just getting over my own flu, running back and forth from one vomitous child to the other, while changing puke buckets of my wife.

To get any rest, I would literally lay down on the floor of the hallway between my kids� rooms for a few minutes, just waiting to get back up to take care of whichever child of mine was getting sick at the moment.

The worst was definitely my son, who would wake up, feeling nauseous (�My belly hurts, Daddy.�), and somewhere after the eighth time, begging me to �please, don�t take me into the bathroom again, Daddy. PLEASE!!!�, which was followed by �I don�t want to do it anymore Daddy. NOOOO!!!�.

I�ve never felt my heart breaking as much as I did that night, going from one child to another, neither of which really understood what was going on except that their tummies were aching and that they kept throwing up and it hurts them.

I�ve heard of parents going through nights like this before and I wondered how other parents were able to do it.

There is nothing momentous or heroic about it. You just do it.

It�s times like these that you are forced to prove your mettle as a parent and take care of your kids. It�s times like these that, in a weird way, bring you closer to your kids because you really find out how far you will go for them. You�re exhausted. You want to just lay down and go to sleep. You can barely take care of yourself.
But�.

You put all of that aside to make sure your babies feel safe and try to help them to not be scared.

This parenting thing isn�t easy.

It�s not glamorous.

But, when your child needs you and is in pain, you know that you will put aside your own needs to do whatever you can to make them feel better.

And that�s love.

��..

And it doesn�t hurt that they�re kinda cute�.

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8:01 a.m. - 2005-05-06

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