The Incompetent Need Not Apply

Of two things I am certain:
1. Unborn children have one job in the first trimester: To keep their mamas from any productivity or life - living.
2. My unborn children choose to carry this job description well into the second trimester.

Mark my words...He or She is grounded immediately upon arrival into this world.

Anyhow, sorry for the lack of posts. Don't be offended by my negelct. You aren't the only ones...in fact, there is a "Brooke has neglected us" club here in Tulsa. Jimmy and Pearce are Co-Presidents. My unbrushed teeth and unwashed hair are Membership Recruiters.

I am trying. Really, I am.

Do you ever feel like you have no idea what you are doing? Do you often wonder, what the heck was I thinking? And as a parent, how bad did that one act of idiocy just screw up my kid?

Those thoughts cross my mind. All. The. Time.

If you are reading this and you can openly admit you are somewhat of a judgemental person, please stop reading immediately. I would prefer our online relationship stay positive and I can assure you that some of my mentionings here are sure to leave even the least judgemental of those readers shaking their heads. And if you're not judgemental, feel free to read on. I have lots to say on this subject.

Like many of you, I am often amazed at how easy it is for Americans to have kiddos. No application necessary. No blood work necessary. No proof of income necessary. Just procreate to your little heart's desire.

 We have to apply and pass a test to get a license to drive. We fill out oodles of paperwork to buy a home. And we even have to have a doctor's prescription to pick up the medication needed to heal our ailments. Yet we can take on the huge responsibility of raising a little life. With no required training.

I am secretly relieved that I didn't have to pass a test to parent. Because I can assure you, this mama would have an empty house. As Jimmy and I navigate parenting, we are often amused at our toddler's ability to totally play us. The kid is an expert negotiator, and an even better lobbyist. We are so proud.

I mean, we shouldn't be too shocked at the little rascal's ability to out-wit his college educated parents. The signs were all there...even from the beginning...

When Jimmy and I were preparing for Pearce's arrival, we did all sorts of research. We found the safest car seats, the most recommended monitors, and even the most orthodontic friendly pacifiers were in our home. We were all set ... Until it came time to make decisions without the knowledge of consumer reports. To prove my point, let me share a little story about an important trip we made to Wal-Mart in order to get Pearce's last minute necessities. We needed to get a few things before our boy arrived and among those, were batteries.

Here is who the battery aisle discussion went:

B: Okay, we need a couple of different batteries. Some for the bouncer and others for the swing. The bouncer requires AA and the swing needs C batteries.


J: What's the difference again?


B: You know, the bouncer can easily move from room to room with us and the swing is the large thing in our living room. All the reviews I read made negative comments about the swing batteries running out quickly so we need lots of those.


J: No, I mean what's the difference between all these packages? Is C4 better than C6? Maybe that has to do with voltage?


B: Ooohhh,  good question. Maybe the number has something to do with the power level? Or maybe we need a certain size of C batteries?


J: Yeah, that makes sense...but here is a package of C8 batteries. Should we get those instead?


B: I don't know babe. I don't want to get some that are too powerful. Could it blow a fuse or something?

(10 minutes and a series of puzzled questions later)

B: Oh no.


J: What happened? Are you hurting?


B: No...it's just...well...babe, we are total idiots. Those numbers? The C4, C6, and C8 are just the number of batteries in the package. The C4 has four batteries, C6 has six, and so on.

J: Are you sure? I... (grabbing battery package for closer study) ... oh no. How much longer until we are parents?

We were quickly slapped with the reality that our inability to read battery packages was scary. But not as scary as the fact that we were going to be responsible for a little life in just weeks.

We were clearly in over our heads.

And I am sad to say that wasn't the last time we embarrassed ourselves in the parenting department. As I have said in previous posts, I am pretty sickly with this little expectant Bean. And for some odd reason, Pearce is fascinated by my "frow up".

Anyhow, last week little Pearce was playing in his playroom and he lugged all of his musical instruments into the kitchen. After setting up his "stage", we began to ask questions.

Me: Pearce, what are you doing sweetheart?

Pearce: Uh, I doin' a music show.

Me: Okay, what are you going to sing?

Pearce: Just a minute. I got to get my guitar. (returns with guitar in tow and starts strumming away)

And what happened next left Jimmy and I with our mouths hanging open as we realized our toddler knew way to much about the facts of life.

Imagine the following to an off-key tune of music....

Pearce: Mommy's sick...she frowin' up....she stays in bed 'cause she is sick....she havin' a babyyyy....Mommy's sickkkkkkkkk....

Jimmy was amused.

I was humiliated.

And of course I immediately began to fight back tears as I imagined little Pearce twenty years from now, in a therapist's office as he tries to remember why he has a complex about sick people. Sigh.