Expect The What?

My post this week on B-Metro goes a little like this:

I concede to two pieces of knowledge concerning parenting that no one ever warned me about. The stuff no amount of sex education, or “the talk”, other parents, or babysitting prepared me for.

The first is that within a few months of your angelic newborns life, they begin to become mobile which only means that soon - you will become injured. As in, something of medium mass and weight will be chucked towards your unexpected brow/lip/nose/eye from a short distance at high velocity.

And you will likely cry.

And then you will experience this a million times until I don’t know when because my children still manage to injure me within an inch of “needed hospitalization” on a regular basis.

The second part of parenting I was never warned of is that nothing is plan-able. I assumed this, in a vague sense, that the unexpected is the expected. 

Read the rest after the jump. (No really. Click it.) (Yes, you. Especially if you are my mom. Or I know you in real life. Or if I wish I knew you in real life. Especially those people. Like you, Bam Margera, click my B-Metro link. Oh! And John Mayer. Even though people say you are weird, I like weird. [clearly]) (Who knows? Maybe I’m offering free cupcakes on the B-metro page today! And you won’t get any because you didn’t click! That’s tragic.)

Now I want cupcakes.