Second Baby Syndrome or Just Shitty Parents?

You hear the stories and read the articles on how second children commonly get the shaft when it comes to parental attention. I spent the past couple of weeks working on a slideshow for Aitch’s second birthday. Long story short: I still haven’t finished it. Now that her birthday has come and gone, I have even lost incentive to get it finished.

Man, I suck.

It’s not that I didn’t finish the slideshow. I didn’t get her a birthday card.

I know, I know. It’s not like she can READ, right?

But I didn’t get her a birthday cake, either.

Wait, it gets even better.

I did buy her some gifts…

…but we never wrapped them.

Of course, I still have time to wrap them. Do you want to know why?

Because we haven’t given her any gifts.

This is not unusual, is it?

I’m going with my earlier determination:

I suck.

CSI – The Parental Version

While I was still plodding about the house in my PJs, Doodicus was sitting at the kitchen counter already dressed and putting on his shoes. He was in a good mood. One could call it “cheery” even.

I was in the laundry room when he came in to announce, “My shorts don’t have pockets.”

Hmmmm…. “Okay…” I replied, and he practically skipped out of the room.

He’s eight, people. Eight year old boys do NOT skip.

The little fucker was up to something.

I went back to my bedroom and started thinking about what had just happened.

“Doodicus! Come in here, please,” I called.

I was standing by my bed when he walked down the hall and stood in the doorway.

“Take off your shoes.”

“What? Why?!

“Take off your shoes,” I repeated calmly, but with a narrowing of my eyes.

“Why? NO!” and he backing away as I was now advancing on him.

I followed him as he kept well out of arms’ reach because he knew that if I could, I would have snagged him and threw him down and ripped off the shoes myself.

I cornered him in the kitchen. “Take off your shoes and put the cards back in your room.”

With that he knew that he was done for. He kicked off his shoe, reached in and pulled out a short stack of Pokémon cards.

Mondays are the days we normally let him bring a few of his cards to daycare to share/trade with his friends, but last week he got busted on Friday trying to sneak some in his pocket, the outline of them giving him away (I told him I could see through clothes with my contacts…because they are SPECIAL contacts. He didn’t quite buy it, but it sure gave him pause on how the heck I knew he was sneaking cards in his pocket!). His punishment was not being allowed to bring them this Monday.

Busted, right?

Oh-ho! It gets better! We’re getting ready to leave the house. Sparring Partner asked him to stand in front of him, and before Doodicus can make a run for it, SP was patting him down. Apparently, when Doodicus went to his room to “put the cards back in his room”, he slipped them into his underwear’s waistband instead. Persistent, isn’t he?

Of course, he now doesn’t get to bring them NEXT Monday, either.

Kids have great imagination, but they just can’t seem to wrap their little play-doh minds around the fact that their parents were once kids too trying to get away with shit they weren’t supposed to be doing either. Doodicus is the prodigy of a man who was a master of a rule-bending in his own youth. Not to mention his mother had her own special talent that got her into ALLL kinds of trouble. He doesn’t realize WE ARE INSIDE HIS HEAD and know that when he’s especially compliant and obedient that we are on our highest parental alert.

We keep telling him that he will always get caught when he lies or sneaks or basically tries to get away with something. We’re hoping that he’ll get convinced of that before he catches on to how to REALLY get away with something and that is by acting NORMALLY. I wonder if I will have to be proud of him for eventually figuring that shit out since it means he’s smartened up or if I’ll be disappointed in the actual deception.

In other words, some day he’ll learn when to hold ‘em, when to fold ‘em, or when to just walk away.