Five Things I Want my Children to Outgrow NOW

Screaming and telling me they are “whistling.”

I know this is a common one, but I’m tired of it now.  I overheard Robert demonstrating that, actually, blowing through pursed lips SILENTLY is closer to whistling than screaming is, but they aren’t buying it.

Making gagging sounds in an attempt to burp.

On a related note, my smalls have recently discovered burping, which they understand to be an essential part of digestion and therefore try to force themselves to do every time we have a meal.  There are some moments when I regret teaching them anything, which I think is inhumane treatment of a parent.

Waiting until there is literal leakage before admitting that they need the toilet.

For real, child?  I know that you know better than this because I can see you doing the dance.  When you’re wiggling and jiggling and grabbing at yourself and I say “Run and use the toilet!”, freaking DO IT.  “There’s no urine coming out!”, the child insists, which is when I say, in my best not-yelling-yet voice, “YES THAT’S THE POINT. TO GO BEFORE ANYTHING ACTUALLY COMES OUT.  GO NOW.”  My genius is unappreciated in my own time.

Inconveniencing me for snacks they have no interest in eating.

I am happy to stock my kitchen with snacks the smalls can help themselves to, and I am even happy to help small children if they are frustrated by, e.g., attempting to peel open string cheese or trying to find the carrots in our overloaded crisper drawer.  But I am NOT amused, especially when I interrupt what I’m doing to help in the acquisition phase, that I keep finding carrot stubs and half-sticks of string cheese around the house.

Actually getting SLOWER when I point out that we need to hurry.

A long-haul battle, I know, but I just cannot logic with the frequent choice to distract themselves playing loud, running-based, yelling games that involve the entire house as a response to my statement that if they want to go [fun thing x], they need to put their shoes on right now.  I just don’t get it.  I know they want to do the fun thing.  But somehow between the information leaving their language processing centers and signals getting to their feet that is transformed into a desire to waste time so that they miss out on the fun thing.  What the actual heck, small children?