I lived through Bubba bein eight. If you have had an eight year old, you may recall. YMMV. If you know parents whose children are eight, you should probably do a kindness for them. They need it. Eight is a terrible age. Eight is the age children realize they know everything and regardless of their age, adults don’t know anything. They actually, literally say “Literally” “Actually” and “Whatever” all the time or whatever.
All summer long, patrons of the pool told Sassy “Never have children.” The first time it happened, she told me, “This woman yelled at her kid and then looked at me, and said, ‘Never have children’ and I oop!”
“Was he eight?” I asked.
“Yeah, probably.”
“Mhm.”
At eight, Bubba engaged me in psychological warfare every damn day. Daily deliberate defiance, constant debate, unrelenting attempts to negotiate. I prayed and I prayed. I’d wake up in the morning, all tra-la-la, today is a new day, tra-la-la and then by 8am, I’d wave to him as he boarded the school bus and I’d mumble, “Good riddance.” God Bless his second grade teacher, Mrs. Roth. God Bless all the second grade teachers.
And living through Bubba being eight is how I know I can live through two more weeks of him living on my couch, cause this is better.
I love him dearly, but he’s on my couch. Now. Later. All. The. Time.
Lemme be clear, it’s not like he’s doin anything wrong, he’s just THERE.
At this point, I’m not sure who could be on my couch this long without disruption. I mean, after eight weeks, even Winnie-the-Pooh would annoy me.
“The couch smells like bear. Pots of honey fuckin everywhere. Sticky, icky, eww! Honey pots all over the coffee table and the dining table and on my kitchen counter, takin up the refrigerator, spillin out on every surface of the bathroom! I can’t hear myself Think! Think! Think! because you’re always over there exclaiming, Oh Bother! All we do is talk about Heffalumps and Woozles and I cannot possibly endure another game of Poohsticks and for the love of thistle, put some pants on! Do you hear Tigger calling for you? I think I hear Tigger calling for you!”
Sometimes the smallest things grow up to be really big and tall and live on your couch.
In case you’re curious, at eight, in addition to literally actually whatevering all the time, all my girls fully embraced their inner bitches and got smart with me. I, like my own mother, had grown into my breeches and had the good fortune of being an older, smarter bitch and that shit did not play.
But the boy one? So hard. So hard for Joeys. I know as parents we don’t always know what we’re doing, but I’m tellin you…
Happy Friday Everyone!
joeyfullystated 
This post needs to be required reading before any woman decides it’s time to have a baby. Granted you might get a girl and like you said that shit did not play with you, but the whole boy baby thing at age eight, welp– good luck. This made me laugh, never having thought of Winnie the Pooh quite in this light.
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Thank you very much for the laugh 🙂 I am pleased. This is very pleasing to me. Thank you.
I love them all, all the time, but they’re people, just like me, and too much of anyone, including me, is never a good thing 😉
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So the couch is his proverbial honey tree hole… and he’s stuck? My advice… pull!
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I think I’m more pushing, like Rabbit 😉 Two more weeks. Two more weeks.
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I don’t recall, but did it thrice. Happy Friday, y’all.
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Raised three kids, or had three come back and live on your sofa? Details are important here! 😛
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Over the years, two of the three have returned for a time. Now, even they use words like downsize and empty nest. 🙂
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Poor Joey. Soon the couch will be yours again … and damn if you aren’t going to miss him! Funny how motherhood works that way 😏
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I will miss him! I will miss him as I did before. And I will visit. And he will visit. (There’s laundry and Italian food here 😉 Haha!)
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haha!! Our two ‘ex-pats’ have been making squeaky noises lately about how long it’s been since we were together for dinner (June).
I’m not fooled. They’re missing my generous bar and a home-cooked meal 😉
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Space is such a precious commodity, Joey.
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*nods* And you know that like I do, because small house living!
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Remember to still enjoy this age of your boy. From now he will grow very fast, more fast that you may imagine.
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You cannot know this, but he’s 26. He relocated for a job, and we’re VERY pleased he’ll live in our city again, but it’s two more weeks til his apartment is ready.
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Okay Joey, I didn’t know that. Mine are adults too and the childhood passed by so fast.
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Winnie the Pooh is an undervalued philosopher!
Yes, eight. I’d forgotten but perhaps that’s because one of the eight year old negotiators has kept on negotiating. I acknowledge my role in this, yes. The youngest never negotiated, she just did. Slyly. And continues thus. I predict great success or utter misery in her worklife, unless she is self-employed. What they’re like at eight is a barometer of what they’ll be like later, IMO. Good luck, Joey. Keep the spray cleaner close by to wipe up the sticky bits.
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I am so very sorry you continue to negotiate. Parenting is hard.
I agree with your assessment, as they say our personalities are formed by age 5. Perhaps our parental roles are formed by their age 8?
My Mentor is a doer, slyly. She’s very clever. It works for her. You have to believe in the doer as much as she believes in herself. She’s also run her own business in addition to our work. Do not despair?
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My only experience here was being the 8-yr-old boy and I’m certain I was a delightful child. I did enjoy this, laughed a bunch, and that’s good on a Friday – thanks!
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It is my pleasure to bring you the LOLZ 🙂 Thank you!
I’m also certain you were a delightful child.
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Oh, when they know it all. Had to clench my jaw and walk away lest I taught them some words an 8-year old should not hear from mama. Hang in there, Joey.
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Right? Haha! I love how quickly they realize how much we know once they’re out there adulting. I love how now Bubba thinks I am knowing all the things like I did when he was five. It slays me. Freakin delightful.
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Marvelous little rant kid. Eight year old kids are the true test of parents. Not the terrible twos.
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Certainly in my case! Thanks!
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Do they grow out of it? I mean, male entities and living on the couch?
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Hah! Or recliners, right? Do you have a couch potato? No, girl, he has a barn 😉
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You know, I don’t really remember any problems with the son at 8. The girls, yes, but not until the teen years. I’m having the problems now when he is big and tall but at least he has a room of his own (and I have a studio because of it) so…still it will be wonderful for all of us when he can move back into his own space. It’s terribly difficult around here though to find something affordable, especially when you are not making a lot of money. Ah, motherhood is a forever job.
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Yeah, I think I mentioned before, I don’t know HOW people make a living there! I feel for this generation, I really do, especially in areas like yours.
If you didn’t have it bad with your son at 8, you were hashtag, blessed, Lady! 🙂
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My boy waited till he was ten to cut the apron strings! From 10 to 18 he was an angry Eeyore. Woe is me. Not my fault. Knower of all things! Pure. Fucking. Hell. Now he’s all grown with two of his own. Mama smiles. He’s gettin’ his!
Fortunately, second one was my sweet girl. Sweet but sassy! Dunno where she gets that🤣
It’s a good thing you can’t see your future. Parenting would be so last century.
When asked about having kids I say, “Bitter-sweet,” but I wouldn’t trade ‘em for the world!
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Sue! Oh how we could reminisce these complaints together! Sue, you are my people. LOL
At eight, my eldest daughter could have run the entire household. She is bossy af, God Love her heart 😉
Parenting is hard, yo!
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Stake your claim, Joey! 😀 They do call it terrible threes and great eights right? Am I making things up to drive you mad? Sorry, not sorry 😀 have a great weekend!
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Hah! Thanks, Prajakta, you too!
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Haha love the Winnie the pooh analogy! 😂 Hang in there Joey! Have a good weekend! 😊
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I AM GOING TO HAVE A GOOD WEEKEND! 😀 Thanks!
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I remember telling my wife that nine was the perfect age. Maybe it’s because they were no longer eight. They survived by toning it down.
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*whispers* And at nine, they’re halfway to adult.
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Except, eighteen does not mean they go away. I still have a 32 year old living here.
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I have an eight year old granddaughter and she thinks she’s eighteen. I have to really bit my tongue a lot – so much that it’s amazing I can still talk.
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Oof the negotiation. That was (and still is) so LM. Unfortunately for me, both of my kids started the “actually” before they turned four. I am so tired of that word. My husband said they get it from me though.
Time to reclaim your throne 👑
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I love this post, and what great timing. Hubby and I ate lunch out today and in comes a family with Dad, Mom, daughter about 8 and two younger sons. They sit in a booth with Mom on the end, except then the daughter decides to throw a fit because she ‘is not sitting next to her brother.’ Mom tried to reason with her and she threw a down right fit including slamming her hands on the table which got the entire restaurant’s attention. But, to the credit of the Mom, she stood up and ushered everyone out of the restaurant. By that time, the daughter was stomping like a marching band, the older of the two boys was pouting, and the youngest boy was screaming like someone was killing him. I loved the Winnie the Pooh characters – genius. 🙂
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Thanks! That story cheers me. 1) I’m not there and never have been 2) measured discipline is good 3) mom’s got it, she’s on it.
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“…for the love of thistle, put some pants on!”
Thanks for the Friday LOL, Joey. I don’t have kids, never had to bear the horrors of an eight year old, but I get it. Now you have a really tall eight year old on the couch. Are you charging him sofa rent?
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Thank you! I’m glad to give you LOLZ 😀 We are not charging him sofa rent. We want him to maintain his savings. He’s a good saver. Two more weeks. His apartment will be ready in two weeks.
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Two weeks…yay! Mom and the couch will be so happy.
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AND SO CLEAN. It will be so clean!
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🙂😄🙂
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There is (obviously) so much I don’t know about parenting – for instance, I thought it was the twos that were bad?
Trust me, I ain’t arguin’ with ya – and I wish you well as you navigate the blustery days!
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Thank you!
Twos are exhausting. Threes are worse. But like, they’re WILDLY entertaining when they’re wee, you fall in love with them more every day.
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My male offspring stayed on my couch for what I know now was a year (cuz it felt like five at the time). I finally had the guts to say, “I don’t care where you go but you can’t stay here.” Out of spite he got a great job and moved all the way across the country. Now I’m dealing with the biggest little one who just turned eight. She thinks she’s tough but this Mother to the Second Power is tougher. (Not really but since the boy’s occupation I’ve developed a convincing game face.)
Thanks for a funny and totally relatable post.
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Ooh. I get that. Thank you very much 🙂
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My girl gave me more trouble. But the boy came back home around age 19 with a girlfriend. Being recently divorced I thought, “The more the merrier.” That didn’t last long in a little house with kids aged 19, 18, and my girl was 12. Plus two dogs. What. A. Mess. Now he’s grown and responsible with a daughter and 6 hours away. It’s a distance that makes the heart grow fonder.
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Ugghhh…that phase when they know everything and you know nothing. I’m pretty sure it lasts a really long time! I have one past it, one that I think is past it (but that may be because he doesn’t live here, so my lack of knowledge doesn’t affect his daily life), and one that has arrived into the all-knowing space. I know you’ll enjoy getting your couch back! 🙂
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This is so funny and so brilliant! OMG. Your girls embraced their inner bitches at eight? LMAO!!! I’m dying!
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THANK YOU! 😀
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You have a wonderful, wicked sense of humor. The post had me howling.
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😀 Thanks again!
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May you survive two weeks reasonably intact. ‘You’ also being all of you.
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I think you’re right about being eight. My grandson calmed down when he turned nine.
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I needed to start my morning with a little Pooh video. (As opposed to a little poo video which is another thing altogether.)
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