I have learned a few lessons about working as a team unit since my husband and I became parents. Some of them were trial and error. Isn’t that the best way to learn though?
Lesson number one: Appoint a spokesperson.
This revelation hit after I heard my 4-year-old tell my husband that he was a poopoo. My hubs responded with something like, “Yeah, and that is why you aren’t getting to go tonight.” I think in his mind he made a point that she had a bad attitude, causing there to be undesirable consequences. However, what was said and heard by us (I’m gonna go ahead and speak for my daughter here) is that the reason she couldn’t go is that he, in fact, was a poopoo. So I’m saying that one person on the “parenting team” may need to let the other parenting team member do the talking for the team unit. The parenting team member responsible for talking could then make it her (or his, but probably her) primary responsibility to not admit to being a poopoo in the future.
Lesson number two: Teamwork needs to involve more than one person.
This revelation hit after a shopping trip to a small convenience store with one of our two daughters. My husband went to the shipping counter to ship stuff (Not drugs or weapons. I don’t even know why I said that; it’s so obviously not those things. But really: no drugs or weapons.) I went to try to get our 2-year-old daughter in a cart so we could shop. Our daughter did not want to be in a cart.
How do I know this? Thank you for asking.
She did the popular “tucking legs to the chest, rendering efforts to get the legs in the cart slots futile” move. It’s a good move if you’re into that sort of thing. I guess I’m not really into it. Oh, also, I should point out that she was yelling at me lest you think this wasn’t garnering attention from fellow shoppers.
Hello, fellow shoppers!
[/nextpage] [nextpage title=”Page 2″ ]I looked to the shipping counter (for maybe some moral support or encouragement), I locked eyes with my husband, and I realized that I was totally on my own. Additionally, I realized that he was finding this humorous as he sat at a safe distance not linked to us (If you are wondering how I knew, honey? It was the smirk on your face.) Later he explained the reason he could not help was because of the 30 lb packages he was holding, waiting his turn in line (Again, didn’t contain anything questionable. Just move on. Why do you keep bringing it up?)
Every man for himself at a convenience store became the new family motto.
Lesson number three: Raise the next generation as the team members you will someday need.
My oldest (3 at the time) drew a spider on a sheet of paper (So she said. I was skeptical but supportive). She said, “It’s going to get me!” I screamed in terror. I looked to my right at my youngest (age 1.) She was staring at me (I think I read disgust in her expression, but I’m not certain.)
Before I could give it more thought, youngest daughter slapped me across the face (if I didn’t have so many esteemed friends on here, I would describe it as a bitch slap.) Youngest daughter gave me one last look to see if I was done and went to find her baby.
That child is a bad mamba jamba. On the brink of any disaster, I want her on my team. She’s going to get things done.
Those, folks, are the lessons I’ve learned thus far. Imagine the knowledge to come.
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