Training

I have said numerous times that training a child isn't much different than training a dog.

And then, I read in this book that very same thing.

So, obviously I will be publishing a book on parenting in the near future. Check back for publication dates!

For starters, neither one comes out of the womb understanding the English language.

I know. That's a tough one to wrap your mind around. Take a moment.

You can yell 'down' to a dog all day long or your can throw Burger King at him in an attempt to teach him to leave you alone. But all you will accomplish is either teaching him to love Burger King or that the word 'down' really means 'hey, come have some flame broiled food.'

OR, you can yell 'here' to your toddler and watch as he gives you the sly grin just before he runs straight for the duck pond and an impromptu bath in duck waste.

And while we're at it lets talk about potty training.

When you let a toddler run around without a diaper while you go run bath water, and suddenly you realize you don't hear cars crashing anymore, you only hear silence....you will come back to find your 17 month old eating his own poop. And hear me on this one, DO NOT SCOOP HIM UP. Because he will only want to put his hands on your face and in your mouth.

Same is true for dogs. If you leave them alone long enough and you hear that dreaded extended silence...in all likelihood they are either chewing your Jimmy Choos or pooping in them. 

Just go ahead and get the bucket and the Resolve.

Probably the most common attribute between training dogs and toddlers is the mind numbing repetition.

Over and over saying 'bottom down' or counting numbers or singing 'old mac donald had a farm...ee i ee i oh.'

There are moments when you wonder if anything is getting through to them.

If anything you try to teach them will stick.

And miraculously, in the midst of a melt down because the hairdresser pulled out the electric trimmer just to 'get around the ears' your little one will say, "tank ewe" without being prompted, and probably because he's glad it's over, but nonetheless he'll say it.

And you'll die from all the cuteness just after your heart explodes from all the love.

This is why we can't have nice things. Don't be surprised if you come to our house and everything is covered in plastic.

I don't typically do the dishes in our household. I don't know how things worked out this way, but don't feel too sorry for Kevin, he has clean laundry and a fridge full of food to eat.

Magic doesn't make that happen.

If I'm doing the dishes I make damn sure everything fits in the dishwasher. Even if it means spending ten extra minutes rearranging the dishwasher.

Kevin will just use those ten minutes to wash the dishes by hand.

And here is where that logic fails:

When you have paper thin ridiculously expensive wine glasses.

And lets say they break easy. Like all but one. Sure you still have all four of the white wine glasses, but three of the red ones are gone and if that last one breaks what are you supposed to do? Drink red wine out of a white wine glass like some commoner?

I watched as my last red wine glass slipped from Kevin's fingers and onto the tile floor smashing into tiny shards that would be impossible to entirely clean until we replace the tile floor with hard wood and then refinished THAT hard wood because our contractor is a pain in the ass.

I'm not bitter about any of it.

Maybe I was too busy reminiscing the many moments I shared with my sole red wine glass or maybe I was just shocked at the sheer velocity all that glass was able to travel, but at some point the man who watched me push another person from my body went completely white and down to the floor.

I had to fireman carry him upstairs.

Away from all the glass and blood.

Minuscule drops of blood shed from his tiny scratch...but lets not get sidetracked by details okay?

Kevin insisted I check the "wound" for glass. A wound that barely met the diameter of dental floss.

Turns out Kevin's hand is fine. He is still washing dishes by hand though which means I'm drinking wine out of a plastic cup like a hobo.