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We Are Parents
I met this hilarious, lovable rogue on Facebook, and he quickly became a dear friend. Briton Underwood is well known on Facebook as “Punk Rock Papa,” a man who unabashedly loves being a father. Besides writing his own blog, Briton recently co-founded a hot new blog collective, “Original Bunker Punks.” He’s funny, sweet, genuine, and the kind of father everyone wishes they had.
Please welcome Punk Rock Papa.
Want to know the defining moment of becoming a parent?
It happens around mealtime. After you spend all that time making your kids food, and sit there watching them eat it or throw it on the floor. Then mealtime ends, and there is still some leftover Mac and Cheese. So you eat it. And you call it lunch.
That’s parenting. Eating your kid’s leftovers because you are too tired to make something for yourself, even a sandwich.
Okay. Maybe that’s not everyone’s defining moment where they realize it’s over and they are parents.
Do you have “the pants?” The sweatpants you wear more than once a week because they are comfy and make you more aerodynamic when you parent? They probably have stains that will NEVER wash out, no matter how many times you run them with oxyclean. That mark, most likely spaghetti, is a badge of parenting, worn by parents the world over.
Fine, you don’t have those pants. Sorry I brought them up! That certainly isn’t them, sitting next to your dirty clothes, and you haven’t put them on three times this week.
Ever picked another person’s booger? Or had your sleeve used to wipe a nose? How about caught half-chewed food in your hand from an adorable little mouth?
Welcome to Parenthood, folks! These are the things they failed to bring up in sex education! Man, could you imagine if when they gave you the fake baby, they included dirty sweats, a snot covered shirt and a half eaten can of Raviolis?
Parents, as a superior group of people, love to squabble over everything from discipline to education to the proper brand of diaper to purchase. We can all agree on one thing though – being a parent is hard!
Before continuing, any parent that pretends that they have this whole thing down or that they have never messed up or had a day where they felt the wrinkles coming in and their hair growing gray should stop reading.
Go ahead. Exit browser and continue being perfect somewhere else.
Okay, now that all the people full of shit have left, lets revel in how hard this parenting is!
The first year of parenting is pretty easy. They can’t move, they don’t talk back. The process is usually pretty simple: bottle, diaper, swaddle. The first year is really more of a mental game. Your ability to work through sleep deprivation.
Those milestones, though! Talk about revitalization! Comparing kids has always felt wrong. Each kid moves at his own pace. The rest of their lives they will be sorted accordingly by looks and ability. Let them have a pass those first few years!
Then comes baby puberty. Where they feel such entitlement! Grown enough to avoid nap time. Lunch better be up to toddler standards or it’s not eaten; or worse, it’s thrown to the ground.
Then, the terrible twos, Dawn of Toddlerhood. It’s tough! Physically AND emotionally draining.
This is where you transcend into parentdom. As children gain the ability to walk, they seem to gain this mindset that they should always do it in the opposite direction of their parent. With talking, a need to push boundaries, and testing everything with a unsure “no” before completing an action they know to be wrong.
Parentdom. Where you start to eat your kids’ leftover meals. Those sweatpants that are so disgusting, yet so goddamn comfy, are worn three times a week.
Parenting might just be the most unglamorous thing in the world. We adopt this junkie look; blood shot baggy eyes, dirty worn clothing, emaciated look from only eating a scoop of lunch a day.
It’s a sight to see, certainly. But there is something glamorous in it.
The Glow.
Parents possess such a glow. A mixture of pride, joy, love and many pure emotions that shine from them like some sort of visible aura.
Somedays, it’s not so bad. Almost as if the kids know Mommy and Daddy need a break from picky eating and temper tantrums. You have a chance to throw on real pants, even an opportunity to eat more than leftovers.
So us parents will rock the homeless junkie look, five or six times a week even.
We will learn as we go, falter sometimes, but we won’t give up.
Our kids are more of a priority than ourselves.
We are parents.
Briton “Punk Rock Papa” Underwood is a proud Parent, Writer and Original Bunker Punk. His passion for writing is second only to his passion for parenting. Co-founder of the Original Bunker Punks, Punk Rock Papa enjoys helping people’s thoughts, stories and emotions be heard.
You can find him on his personal blog, https://punkrockpapa.wordpress.com,
or on the Original Bunker Punks, http://www.originalbunkerpunks.com,
writing about what he loves – the people around him.
Loved this! Made me laugh and cry all at once. I’m still in awe that “baby puberty” so quickly turned into “grown-up puberty.”
What a great Monday morning read. Thank you!!
Michelle
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Thanks so much! I’ll be honest, baby puberty is scary, I won’t be ready for grown-up puberty!
Glad you enjoyed it!
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Great article! I have a new word: baby puberty LOL!
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Haha Thank you for reading!
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I rocked the “haven’t gotten out of my bathrobe” look for a very long time after I had my kid. I remember reaching into the pocket for his binky, and finding…baby poop. I still have no idea how that got there.
Welcome to Sisterwives, Briton! Love having you here!!
(If anything is missing when you leave, Ima come get you.)
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We found some poop the other day… On the floor, in a room we aren’t often in during the day. We’ve reached an interesting stage of toddlerhood where the Little Prince can take off his diapers on his own. “Interesting.”
I’m not complaining… just sharing one poop story for another.
Oh!
And he says “Pooping” now. And sometimes it means, “I have to poop.” And sometimes it means, “I already pooped, but you are in for a f-in fight if you think I’m going to let you change my diaper peacefully. Are you attached to your ear drums and eyeballs?” And, sometimes it means, “Hey, look, while you are busy cleaning my bum, I’m peeing on you.”
There we were, in the bathroom, him standing up so I could clean his little bummy, and he says, “Pooping.” Which one do you think he meant?
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Thank you so much, its an honor, seriously.
I was told these towels were complimentary!
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I’m scratching my head here (the balding spots) because I know you’ve missed something important on your list of parentdom, but I can’t seem to remember what it is… something about the children stealing our brains and us never being able to remember anything ever again, or be on time places, or run “quick” errands, or…
Alas, my toddler has already stolen my brain, I may never remember what I wanted to say…
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Very good point, if there is one?
It’s funny, before children I had to be everywhere a half hour early. I try to be extra punctual. Now I’m lucky if I make it to a destination only a half hour late.
Thanks so much for reading!
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I’m not sure there was a point… or, the lack of a coherent point was the point? Or, well, who knows. And, yes, half an hour late is the new “on time.” Except for those exceptional parents who manage to actually show up when they are supposed to, in stain-free clothes, and with bell-behaved children… Those parents make me feel great.
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Matticus! I’m so glad you came to visit! I think you and Punk Rock Papa have a lot in common, and I’ve been wanting you two to meet.
And now you have 🙂
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Being a parent is eating the food your kids don’t want…even after it’s been in their mouth. Or maybe that’s just me. Good stuff, dude. Nicely done.
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sweet
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Dude!
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totally… I could have done a five page comment about how much I liked it, as a guy who was a stay at home house daddy to two daughters back before it became cool… but I knew you would know what I meant.
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Absolutely nailed this! I’m rocking the homeless junkie look as i type… trying not to nod out like one from the purest type of exhaustion around the streets these days- the kid who wakes up at 1am wanting to party till the sun comes up & does just that!
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Hahaha I’m glad you can relate.
Well not glad, I feel empathetic believe me.
Thanks so much for reading!
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Yay for real pants! 🙂 Awesome post!
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Truth!! Parenting is the hardest job on earth. Just when you think you’ve completed it with a gold star, you realize it never ends. They will always need you, they just don’t want to admit it. Great post, Briton. Nice to meet you.
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Nice to meet you also!
Parenting is so many different things from exhausting to completely fulfilling. I Give myself a gold star after everyday I parent because the kids are still breathing 🙂
Thanks so much for reading!
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Love this. I’ve had kids with fevers for two weeks. Two weeks! Our bathroom counter looks like a meth lab if you could make meth out of children’s aceteminophen and ibuprofen. Just empty bottles spinning everywhere. And today I actually said to someone, “Sorry I smell so bad. I showered Friday… or Thursday… or, I don’t know. But it’s weird how bad I stink, right?”
Thank you for the chuckle! (Headed over to see what this Punk Rock Papa is all about.)
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I’m glad you enjoyed it! Hope you like my other stuff too!
Fevers SUCK! When my boys get fevers at the same time I want to go into hiding until the sickness passes.
Hope the kids start feeling better soon! Thanks for reading!
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You go, Big Papa!! Was so excited to see this!! Who loves you, baby?? MWAH Great post!!!
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Thanks so much! 🙂
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Great Post even though #Ihatekids. XX
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HAAAAAAAAAAhee.
I remember…
…eating all the leftovers on my kids’ plates. “Oh, don’t you dare throw those fries away, mommy will eat them!”
Now, we can wear Yoga Pants and look half-way homeless.
Funny, enjoyable piece!!
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I know it wasn’t intended to, but this made me tear up, and that’s kind of a big deal to me. Briton, your gentle spirit shines through in how you speak of your babes. How lucky they are to have you there committed to feeding them ravioli and Mac and cheese, chasing them in the wrong direction, and showing them the unconditional love that they deserve and actually receive unlike so many other children out there. If all dads could follow in your footsteps, I have no doubt more children would be smiling, and stained sweats would be the new black. Thank you for sharing this fun piece here. I certainly hope we see more of you.
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And this is why sending them to “Auntie Tracy’s” house is only a temporary solution. Your kids would come back left-wing wino’s and I would never share my mac and cheese with them. They would starve, not me! Rock on all the parents. I don’t know how you do it. Great post, B!
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oh Briton, so sorry I’m just getting on this comment board, but LOVE LOVE LOVE your post! I not only have *those* sweats (or in my case, yoga pants) but I WERK them! I wear them ’till they fall off. It’s my mommy uniform. And once, we looked on my son’s headboard and it was covered in boogers. COVERED. Like a booger cemetery.
boys are gross…..
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Ok so I was gonna leave a comment but I forgot what I was doing while scrolling….awesome post, as always. I enjoyed reading it. ❤
But this changes nothing. You are still an elitist dickhole.
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Ok so I was gonna comment but I forgot what I was doing because of all the scrolling. Awesome post, as always. I enjoyed reading it. ❤
But this changes nothing. You are still an elitist dickhole.
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This is a wonderful post. So heartfelt and true.
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