A few weeks ago, Liz sent me a guest post, titled Mommy Myths. This weekend, she sent me volume two. Really, I think if I keep her going, I may one day get her too post on her blog again. Ha. Or give her a day a week here? hmmm, idea.

There are going to be more guest posts around here, than mine, for the next couple weeks. I hope you guys will still visit. I just need some time. I’m not going anywhere, I just haven’t found my words yet. But these people, my friends who are going to send me guest posts, they are awesome. Much more entertaining than I am right now, that is for sure.

MOMMY MYTHS #2 by Liz.

Since the first time around was so much fun…  (And it’s possible that I really really really really liked getting the comments.)  Or maybe it’s just because I realized I have more to say.  I was laying awake in the middle of the night several days ago and this began to take shape in my head.  We’ll see just how much I can recall…

1) Potty Trained does NOT equal freedom. I’m sorry.  But it’s true.  All of you out there in a big rush to potty train?  Stop and consider this for a moment.  When your two year old in a diaper pipes up and says, “Mommy, pee-pee!”  or, “Mommy, new diap?”, what do you do?  Drop everything and race with every ounce of strength you have to get them a fresh diaper?  Um.  NO.  You murmur “Yes sweetie, just a moment.” and then finish the bejeweled game you are in the middle of, check email, maybe get a drink and perhaps even play another game or two.  And THEN you get them the requested new diaper.  Strictly hypothetical.  Ahem.  Now, when your small child in underwear says the same thing?  You are out of your chair, racing towards the bathroom with said child under your arm before another second ticks off the bejeweled timer.  Yeah…  Basically, you have some control over the timing of a toddler in diapers.  When they are out of diapers?  THEY are in control.  I’m not trying to say don’t do it.  I just think you should go in with your eyes open.  I have a 2 year old still very much in diapers.  And an almost 5 year old who is FINALLY to the stage where he can go completely by himself–but, um…  I might still have to wipe his little tush.  And that’s a whole other post.

2) The Terrible Twos are NOTHING compared to Threes. I think “terrible twos” is a misnomer.  Just like “morning sickness”.  Morning?  BWAHAHAHAHAhahaaaaaaaaaaaaa.  Er.  Um…  Right.  Where was I?  Oh yeah.  I think it should be “terrific twos” and “terrible threes”.  Or maybe at times, “trying twos” or “testing twos”, but terrible belongs to the three’s.  My summer job in high school and college was working at a day care.  With toddlers.  And I never knew this about the two’s vs. three’s until December of 2007.  (That would be when Thomas turned three.)  In my (limited) experience, two is all about cute but sometimes challenging attitude.  Three?  Three for us was more like, “Mommy needs a break before my heads spins all the way around” level attitude.  Just because you possess the logic and verbal skills to debate every point, does that really mean you have to use it?  All the time?  Caroline at two gets a glint in her eye, and sets her jaw just so and then stares us down.  I’m a little scared for next July.

3) The cheesy cliches are true.  REALLY. When checking into a hotel recently, the young woman at the registration desk was intrigued by the fact that we were on a “Mom’s Getaway” weekend.  She was…  Wow.  Different, eh Issa?***  Anyway, she had like a million questions about having kids such as, “So, would you like, recommend having kids?”  (Feel free to imagine the head bob/tilt and the twirling of the hair as you read that.)  “Does it like, um, change your life and stuff?”  Oh, and of course, “Was like, having a baby the most intense thing like, evah?”  And as Issa and looked at each other and tried not to laugh out loud at her, we had to answer truthfully.  A million times yes, I would recommend having kids.  It changes your life in the both the most mundane and unexpected ways.  And, becoming a parent (no matter how it happens) is without a doubt the most intense thing ever–er, excuse me.  I mean evah!  Is it all sunshine and roses and puppies?  Goodness no.  Not even close.  It’s a lot of sweat and tears.  But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

***Issa’s note: That woman….err adult girl, shouldn’t have kids for another 15 years at least. I’d fear for her children’s lives. She’d be the woman who’d leave them in a cab, because she got in a conversation on her phone about a magazine article. Or she saw something shiny. Scary, truly.  A few minutes after we left registration, which by the way took FOREVER, Liz and I considered that we should have told her having kids was horrible, just so she wouldn’t do it.