Last week I was an accomplice in an elaborate scheme in which that same kid got engaged on a lake trip with all of us and his third Bonus Family. While he got down on one knee, Jenny smiled on lovingly, thrilled but dry-eyed while his two Bonus Moms bawled our ever-blessed eyes out. He was one of our own, one we all raised together, out there with a girl and a ring, growing up despite our threats, while all our other kids and Bonus Kids cheered and took pictures, and we claimed a portion of the day’s happiness because we’d logged so many years group parenting and group disciplining and group mentoring and group defending, and by gosh, we were going to celebrate like he was our own flesh and blood. We popped champagne, made toasts, and started planning our first wedding like proper Bonus Mothers-in-Law.
We promise not to be obnoxious.
I mean, we promise to try.
HOW TO (PART THREE)
HOW TO PICK A RESTAURANT WITH YOUR HUSBAND OR SIGNIFICANT OTHER
1. Wait until he asks the fated question, “Where do you want to eat?”
2. Respond with, “Whatever. I’m breezy.” Imagine sincerely that you mean this, because you can’t think of anywhere specific.
3. Turn down his every suggestion with a grunt, scowl, or dismissive wave of the hand.
4. Become moody and frustrated with his inability to correctly sense what your body is craving. Why can’t he get this right? Surely he doesn’t think you actually want Applebee’s. It’s like he doesn’t even know you. How have you stayed together this long? This person is flawed.
5. Dramatically declare your appetite ruined and you don’t even want to eat. Just never mind. Channel your inner preschooler. Make sure body language communicates petulance.
6. Get into a medium-grade fight.
7. Have a lightbulb moment and declare the exact perfect restaurant! You saved the date! You came through! You are such a good partner! You are clutch.
8. Remember that you are starting your period tomorrow, which may account for just.a.wee.bit of your big feelings this evening. Do not share that information with your husband, because he cannot be trusted with it. If he gives you that I-knew-it look at this point, you might accidentally stab him in the eardrum with your steak knife, and that is no way to go down. Give the man a chance to live. It’s date night.
HOW TO HANDLE A TWEEN WITH ATTITUDE
1. Read eight books with conflicting advice. Choose a course. (This is arbitrary.)
2. Set her down and explain the new rules in a June-and-Ward–level family meeting.
3. Be consistent for fifteen entire minutes.
4. Become increasingly irritated when tween won’t act like the book described. She is nothing like “Annie” in chapter 6. Annie transforms from tyrant to model child after two strategic sentences from the Book Mom, but when you reply, “What I hear you saying is this makes you feel unsure and scared, which is why you are choosing anger instead of constructive words,” your kid rolls her eyes and asks why you are talking so weird.
5. Lose your mind and start to boil.
6. Begin yelling things about how Annie is nice to her mother and has a lot of Jesus in her heart.
7. Pour wine. (Could also insert straw directly in bottle or box. Your call here. There is flexibility on this step.)
8. Resolve to try again tomorrow with tactics from a different book.
Programming Note: This last step could be repeated for infinity until your daughter goes to college. The parenting section at Barnes & Noble is quite large. Surely one of those books can fix adolescence.
HOW TO GET A GOOD NIGHT’S REST WITH YOUNG CHILDREN
1. Hahahahaha! There is no such thing. Just put them to bed and satirically say, “Good night.” You’re making a joke. This is comedy. You are so funny! It is not a good night. You will see them sixteen times before sunrise. Go make yourself a second pot of coffee.
Programming Note: There is one way. Send ’em to Grandma’s, and put your phone on silent.
HOW TO GET SOME QUIET TIME
1. Wait until husband comes home.
2. Tell husband you have to poop. And also you have your period. This will ensure his physical and auditory distance.
3. Lock self in bathroom.
4. Pull out stash of chocolate and/or wine you have strategically and masterfully hidden behind the cleaning supplies under the sink since no one cleans except you.
5. Eat chocolate and/or drink wine, both deeply spiritual acts. Feel good about this. Feel holy.
Programming Note: Could also stash beach novel with chocolate and wine. If husband knocks after prolonged time in the bathroom, tell him you are constipated. This should buy you another twenty minutes.
HOW TO GET FUNNY LOOKS FROM YOUR CHILD’S SUNDAY SCHOOL TEACHER
1. Play “Uptown Funk” in the car on the way to church.
2. Send your three-year-old who has trouble pronouncing his n’s to class while still singing the chorus. (Bonus points if he’s the pastor’s kid.)
HOW TO SURVIVE YOUR FIRST YEAR IN TEXAS AS A TRANSPLANT
1. Speak about gun control, politics, immigration, and football with no one. (This rule has some flexibility if you live in Hippie Austin, the only blue county in a very red state. It is a hard-core boundary everywhere else.)
2. Embrace saying y’all immediately, and forgo all criticism of this expression. (See also: all y’all, fixin’ to, bless her, Mama and them, and cain’t never could.) (Also, all soft drinks are called Coke.)
3. Pledge allegiance to THE Texas grocery store: HEB. It’s your new home. There is no other.
4. Wear your non-Texan football team gear only in your own home under the cover of night (see step 1).
5. Carry bug repellent with you at all times. This is non-negotiable.
6. Wear no makeup and never wash your hair in the summer. Sweat and the messy bun are your new BFFs.
7. Embrace queso as the fifth food group.
8. Drive by Jen Hatmaker’s house, which you saw on HGTV, and take a selfie with it. Post this on social media and tag to Jen’s page. This is not at all weird and doesn’t happen every single day.
9. Drive two hours to Waco and post photos on Instagram so your friends think Chip and Joanna are your next-door neighbors.
10. Don’t even think about thwarting Texas propaganda. Resistance is futile. You will end up drinking the Kool-Aid. Just give in. You cain’t never help it.
HOW TO GUARANTEE THE DOG WILL THROW UP ON YOUR BED
Option 1: Get a brand-new quilt, comforter, or duvet.
Option 2: Wash current one.
Programming Note: If company is also arriving the next day, this is guaranteed.
HOW TO SURVIVE A PUBLIC RESTROOM WITH YOUR PRESCHOOLER
1. Assume that they will say something untimely and brutally honest like, “Mom, it stinks in here! It stinks so bad! Mommy, did you hear me? It really stinks!”
2. When it is clear she is oblivious to your facial contortions, gently but firmly cover her mouth with your hand. Brace yourself for the muffled question, “Mommy! Why are you covering my mouth?”
3. Resign yourself to hiding in a stall until the mystery pooper exits the bathroom.
4. While in there, do not make the fatal mistake of using the facilities yourself unless you want your offspring to yell, “Mommy, you have a big vagina! Why does your tummy fold over like that? Are you going number two? Girls have three holes!”
5. Practice containing gag reflex when your little one licks the tampon repository to see “how it tastes,” then lays down on the ground curled around the toilet base. Remind yourself she is building immunities.
6. Apologize to the mystery pooper as your daughter reaches under the stall and tickles her ankles. You are very, very sorry. Your kid is being terribly creepy.