Kids are assholes. Beanie's Guide to parenting (Part 2)

It's been a minute since I have Blogged.
Life goes by too fast. One minute you are 30 and them BOOM you are practically 40.

I have loved my 30's. It was way better then my 20's that's for sure. My twenties were full of breastfeeding, Bells Palsy and finding surprise poo on the floor.

I began my 30's with a divorce, College, a job and a really exciting, yet really not good Boyfriend.

Sometimes I still find surprise poo on the floor. (like last Friday when I walked into the two's room.) But now I'm not wholly responsible for the clean up of the poo. That's a plus.

I have observed a lot in the last 22 years of being a parent,  9+ years of those years being surrounded by children and their parents. And I get asked for advice on a daily bases.

For example, last Thursday when a parent asked me "Why is my son behaving this way?" in which I replied "Because kid's are assholes." 

And they are, but usually it is not all their fault.
If you haven't read my first blog about parenting fails, you can find it here:Common sense parenting

#1. Born that way

When children are born, they cry and they get a boob plopped in their mouth, They cry...and they get their diaper changed...They cry and mommy holds them.
SO they learn, right out the gate "When I cry, my needs are taken care of."
This of course changes into being teeny tiny adorable assholes who cry because they want something. Kids are smart.

Children are not born with patience. They are born with hunger. And they have to be TAUGHT patience (or how NOT to be an asshole) by someone they trust.
Parents or Buhach teachers of excellent breed and stock have to teach a child how to distinguish between needs and wants. And a child should never get everything that they want.

So when parent ask me "Why is my child selfish?" It's because they were, quite literally, born that way. They are born needing food, comfort and warmth. This then morphs into wanting fidget spinners, mac n cheese and the newest video game at the drop of your dime.

If your kid is an asshole. Take a moment to assess if you have taught them how not to be one.

#2. I'm bored!

When I was a child I would never, EVER utter these words because quite simply, I knew better.
If I ever got "Fidgety" I would receive a shovel, a pick ax and instruction on where my sister and I should dig the trench....how long we needed to rip roots and dead rodents out of the irrigation for...or toted up the hill in our military truck so that we can cut firewood from the newest fallen tree.
He most certainly wouldn't buy me a toy to "fidget" with.
Now I'm not saying that you shouldn't buy your child stupid toys, I myself spoil my daughter with most anything that she asks for.
Mostly because she doesn't ask for much, but also because isn't an asshole.


When children in my school age class tell me that they are bored  (Which is usually not too often given the fact that Cami vehemently shakes her head at them trying to warn them against uttering those words.)
This is how it goes:

"Mrs.Beanie I am bored."

"How"

"What?"

"How are you bored. You have video games, painting, two art projects, every board game that you could want and the shelves are stuffed with toys. There are books to read and friends to talk too, so how are you bored?"

"I don't know I just am."

"Okay go grab a book and read a chapter, Books are boredom busters....when you are done with that imaginative experience, if you are still bored read another one."

"Never mind I forgot that I'm not bored at all."

"Amazing."

Somehow, in the last 10 years or so, children have begun to believe that parents (and all adults alike) should be entertaining them. Giving them something exciting to do or taking them somewhere exciting every hour, weekend or school break.

Yes, we should enjoy our children. We should make memories, create magic and inspire imagination. But not to the point where it is expected of us and if we don't, then WE are the assholes.

#3 Spare the rod, spoil the child

No, I'm not saying your should beat your kid, (Hint: Bathrooms don't have cameras) but the Bible had it right on this one.
Giving your child everything that they want ruins them. And I am not being dramatic.

Our job as parents and leaders of children is to raise them up to be intelligent, kind, confident leaders.
To be able to go forth in life, be capable members of our society and raise up the NEXT generation to be leaders.

Spoiled children tend to think that they should receive everything in life simply because they want it (or throw a fit for it). And that is not how the world works.

You need to work for everything in your life. Work harder, get better everything.

Does your 8 year old child need a phone? Fuck no they don't.

You don't always have to talk about your child's feeling when disciplining them. They don't need that, you do.
Set a guideline, a consequence for those guidelines and follow through with it.

#4 You better work.

The other day, I asked a parent what his weekend plans were and he replied "Work. I work 7 days a week."
And all I kept thinking was "What an amazing Dad." (I also wanted to immediately bake him cookies and take care of him, but that's besides the point.)

Most of the time parents think that if they take their children to Disneyland 5 times a year, that makes them a good parent. Here's a #truth... It doesn't make them feel as good as it make YOU feel.

What makes you a good parent is working your ass off, disciplining your children and telling them no sometimes.

 (#truth..., your child will probably throw a fit because you took them away from the hotel pool to "MAKE" them go to the Disney parade of lights.)

I took both of my children to Disneyland a few times when they were younger, and I was quite surprised to find out that Shane's most favorite memory as a child is playing "Shark attack" (where we pretended we were on a boat on the ocean and sharks were surrounding us) Want to know why I played that? So I could lay in bed all day and giggle with my child.


#4 Parenting is not an electric sport.

There is a reason why First 5's "Talk, read, sing" campaign is blowing up the radio and television stations right now. Because people don't anymore.

Isn't it sad that there are people URGING you to interact with your child. Begging.

When you go out to dinner. Talk to your children.
When you are in the car, play I spy with your children.
When you are in the doctors office, waiting for 3 hours, pull out a notebook and play tic tac toe with your children,
At the restaurant You can have a creamer stacking contest, play tic tac toe with sugar packets, or have a drawing contest. Play "Finnish my drawing" or buy a pack of cards to keep in your purse.

Every where I go, I see electronics in the faces of children instead of parent communication and bonding. These moments are precious. They are important. Your children are learning to proceed through life by YOUR example.

Every SINGLE moment that you spend with your child is an opportunity to learn social rules and behaviors.
Every SINGLE moment that you spend together you are helping to create childhood memories.

What is your favorite childhood memory?
What will theirs be?

Look, I'm not the perfect parent. Parenting is hard, it is thick and heavy and peppered with laughter and mistakes.
We have to BE the example to an entire generation of tiny midgets who were born to be greedy assholes.
We have to take them and mold them into great leaders so that they can make our world socially, environmentally and economically better then we left it.

This shit is not for pussies, and last I checked there was NOT an APP for that.

Two fatties on a treadmill #fatlivesmatter

We blow into the gym at 4:55 am

"Goodmoring ladies!" The check in dude greets us.
He's nice. He doesn't judge me for forgetting to take off my makeup and having whore mouth.

"Good morning to you!" I chirp happily.
"Mlehhh." Brandee mutters next to me. (That's happy good morning in 4:55am Brandee speak)

We have our weekly routine. And head back to our section. "Look at this bitch." I whisper, and nod my head to the right. Brandee looks over to see the woman running like there is a sale on Marc Jacobs.
"She has been running for 33 minutes." She whispers
"Wow! Do you think WE will ever run for 33 minutes?!"
"No." Brandee deadpans.

On M W F we do the circuit and on TH F we do the treadmill and the machines that we have nicknamed "Satan" and "SPAWN of satan"...respectfully.

I'ts Monday so we get to our section and wait for the light to turn green. I love going to the gym with Brandee for many reasons:
#1. I get to see my bestie every day
#2. We laugh...alot. And laughing is my second favorite thing to do.
#3. If I am going to die a death of sweat and heavy breathing, this bitch is going down with me.

At the circuit it is hard for me to remember every move from the pictures that are so "helpful" so we have nicknamed some of them.
One of them is called: Flap Happy
This is a nod to the fact that you have to kick high and I feel that my vagina is popping out to say hello to everyone...happy flaps come from California. Remember that.

While we do our machines we talk about the prior day or plan events.

I step onto a platform. "That's Flap Happy." Brandee reminds me
"Ah yes." I nod
The light turns green and I strategically point my vagina to the sky as I grunt "VAGINA!" each time I kick. SOME times I point it at people and kick strategically. Everyone should have some happy flap in their life. (even if they are unaware of the lazer like precision of my vaginal kicks)

Sometimes Brandee cheers me on.
"Ohmygod! This one is awful! I can feel it RIGHT in my double vagina."

SIDENOTE: I call my thighs double vagina. The reason? Simple: I have fat thighs, they are practically another vagina.

"You can do it Beanie!"

"Okay.." I pant

"Kick that double vaginas ass!"

"Take THAT double vagina!" I whisper "And THAT!"

The light turns red and I walk away from the platform quickly to pick up my water bottle. Brandee meets me at the half wall and grabs her water.

On Tuesday we warm up on the treadmill and head over to Spawn of Satan.

"Holy shit." I pant, as I push my legs up and down harder. We've been on the machine at Level 2 for 5 minutes.

"I know." Brandee pants next to me.

"Look at that guy." I gasp leaning forward on the machine until my chest is pressed against the controls and my arms are flapping about to keep balance.

Next to us is a man who wears giant earphones and is sprinting like a fucking bunny. Light and airy and easy.

"We suck" Brandee laugh/huffs


1 minute later our machine level goes up and you would have thought the world was ending.
"Oh fuck."
"What just happened?"
"Oh shiiiit"
"I'm hungry"
"I'm seriously ......going to .....DIE......Like...dead."
"Oh God."
"Fuck"

"Hey...." I reach over and smack Brandee in the arm. Both of our foreheads are pressed against the machine.
"Huh!" She gasps
"Look...over.....there...."I nod my head to the bunny sprinter. "What...level is he on?" I gasp

She looks over and then laughs, using her arm to wipe the sweat from her forehead.

"What?" I try to say, but my mouth is squished by my arms do to the fact that I have to redirect ALL of my energy on defeating this machine with my legs.... so it came out like "Wuh"

"He has been on Level 33 for 42 minutes."

"FUCK that guy man." I gasp "I hate him so hard."

"Me too." Brandee mutters

No Judgement Zone my ass.