Before I had kids, I was what parenting veterans might call “delightfully naive.” I had a long list of things I swore I’d never allow my hypothetical children to do.
Now, as a proud parent, I look back on that list and laugh the kind of laugh that says, “Bless your darling heart, child.” Here’s a rundown of my grandiose pre-kid promises and how they’ve spectacularly crumbled in the face of pint-sized reality.
Elf on a Shelf
I once mocked people for willingly inviting a high-maintenance holiday spy into their homes to make messes that parents have to clean up. “Not me,” I said. “I’ll stick to classic traditions like cookies and carols.” Fast forward: our elf, Alabaster, now has his own Instagram-worthy adventures and even has a nemesis who comes a couple times each Christmas season to try to give the kids coal.
Eat Tons of Candy in One Day
“Moderation!” I preached. “My kids will savor their treats.” Turns out, Halloween doesn’t care about moderation, and neither do my kids. Watching them sort their loot like sugar-crazed accountants is now an annual tradition. And yes, I may have eaten the Reese’s while the children were nestled all snug in their beds.
I once watched my youngest devour all of his Easter candy on Easter Sunday. Then he wondered why his brother had candy for days and he had none left.
Climb the Walls
This one felt figurative when I said it, but now it’s shockingly accurate. Whether it’s scaling the door frames or bouncing off furniture like caffeinated lemurs, “the floor is lava” is not just a game—it’s their lifestyle.
I used to believe walls were for hanging art. Turns out I was wrong. They’re clearly a jungle gym. And don’t get me started on the fingerprints on the ceiling.
Jump on Furniture
Silly me. I told myself that my children would always be under control and would never jump on my furniture. I didn’t count on the role ADHD would play in my life. We had an old couch that we not only put in our playroom, but that the oldest Wild Thing referred to as his “jumping couch” much to the chagrin of his mother.
Then one day, I got a text from my lovely Honey Doodle that said, “Should we just give in and let the kids destroy the couch?” I immediately went to check her temperature as these words clearly couldn’t have come from my reserved and rational wife.
About two weeks later, the couch was destroyed and the Wild Things began asking for a “new jumping couch.” I was shocked at their audacity, but even more shocked to learn that there are a strikingly high number of parents who own a jumping couch.
Play With a Whoopee Cushion
Before kids: “Why would anyone buy that? It’s so immature.” After kids: I bought two. The Chaos Brigade destroyed both of them within an hour. Did I say, “That’s what happens when we play rough, now you’ll need to procure one with your own funds?”
Of course not. I scoured the aisles of Target for replacements because, apparently, the sound of simulated flatulence is the cornerstone of childhood joy.
Get a Dog Before They Turn 10
I had a clear vision: no puppy chaos until the kids were responsible. The oldest Wild Thing has wanted a dog since our beloved Shih-Tzu died in 2018. But, Honey Doodle and I weren’t ready for the destruction a puppy would bring upon our once-peaceful home.
Enter Sunny, our aussie doodle, who arrived a few months before the oldest Wild Thing’s 10th birthday and has in no particular order managed to destroy two pillows, one dog bed, one pair of airpods, a windowsill, 18 shoes, three dishes, and a partridge in a pear tree.
Spoiler alert: Sunny is mostly my responsibility. But the kids love her, and, as it turns out, I do too.
Have a Trampoline Outside
“Too dangerous,” I said. “Not in my backyard.” Guess what’s now in my backyard, much to the chagrin of my home insurance company?
This was a particularly surprising development considering that Honey Doodle and I had agreed to the trampoline prohibition whilst we were still dating on account of the fact that she had injured herself quite severely on her childhood trampoline.
However, when one has two bouncing baby boys, one must allow them to, well, bounce.
Have a Trampoline Inside
We also have a trampoline inside. Actually, that’s not entirely accurate. We’ve had five trampolines inside. Some were used, some were new, and one was actually a rebounder Honey Doodle thought she would use daily about two decades ago.
After years of trying to find a small inside trampoline that the kids couldn’t destroy, we enlisted the aid of a rather rotund resident of the North Pole. He brought a trampoline that they have yet to destroy — but now hardly use. I guess it isn’t fun unless you can trash it.
Install an Indoor Swing
Once upon a time, I thought ceilings were for lights and fans, not swings. Once we learned that we were parents to the types of children that swing from chandeliers, Honey Doodle suggested we get a swing to hang from one of the ceilings. Now, there’s a swing in my spare room, and no one blinks when I say, “Please don’t sit on your brother while he’s pretending the swing is a cocoon.”
Get a Bow and Arrow Set
Because why in the world would a parent of two wild boys allow them to have projectiles?
But alas, we attempted to get a kids’ bow and arrow set for them. Fortunately, this is yet another among the growing list of “toys my children have destroyed.”
“Allow” My Kids to Be Wild
I envisioned raising serene little philosophers. What I got were mini tornadoes who wear underwear on their heads and invent games like “Who can set Daddy’s last nerve on fire before bedtime.”
And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way. Don’t tell the Wild Things this — they think I don’t like how wild they are — but I love them both from tip to tail.
So here’s to my younger, more idealistic self. You tried, but you didn’t know. Kids have a way of making your principles do backflips—sometimes literally. And while my house may be chaos and my promises in shambles, it’s the happiest mess I’ve ever made.
B.T. Clark
B.T. Clark is an award-winning journalist and the Publisher of The Georgia Sun. He has 25 years of experience in journalism and served as Managing Editor of Neighbor Newspapers in metro Atlanta for 15 years and Digital Director at Times-Journal Inc. for 8 years. His work has appeared in several newspapers throughout the state including Neighbor Newspapers, The Cherokee Tribune and The Marietta Daily Journal. He is a Georgia native and a fifth-generation Georgian.
