Recently, my husband and I who are normally quite sane thought it would be a good idea to take our three children across the entire continent for a holiday. It was a week of whining and sobbing and temper tantrums and that was just me. You should have seen the kids.
No, We Are Not F*king There Yet (image provided by Bonney Press)
So when I heard about a new book being released called 'No, We Are Not F*king There Yet: and other universal truths of parenting' I had to sob a little.
Because I hadn't written it first.
Written by Andrew Willis and beautifully illustrated by Robin Swift, 'No we are not f*cking there yet' describes in verse some of the more common verbal stoushes we have with our little darlings. Power spews, eating worms, tantrums in the middle of the grocery store, being peed on during nappy change, the never-ending battle to get your kids to eat: anyone who has ever spent five minutes with a child will be nodding sagely.
The illustrations are beautifully hand painted in a style reminiscent of the old masters. The text not so much. This isn't a book that lovingly paints kids are little cherubs. This book grabs a permanent marker and draws the truth all over your very expensive curtains. And the truth is - as much as we love them - kids drive us nuts. Mine do anyway.
Protecting sensibilities with a dinky little star instead of coming right out and saying 'fuck', the frustrations of being a parent are wrapped up neatly in a book that would make a great baby shower gift. It might be prudent to keep it away from anyone not yet a parent, just in case they are scared off procreating altogether.
Some of the poems sound like they may be sung to popular nursery rhymes, but unfortunately if that was the author's intent, he hasn't shared his thoughts, so it's up to you to be creative.
But the pictures capture children in their most challenging times and the scenarios are oh-so-relatable.
Tanty in the grocery store (image provided by Bonney Press)
My favourite poem 'Learn to Count' finishes like this: 30 is for the seconds I had to take a shower,
200 is for the decibels of your screaming power.
300 is my heart rate when you ran towards the road,
A thousand is for the times today you dumped a f*king load.
A million is my blood pressure when you nearly ate the glue,
Infinity, for some crazy reason, is how much I love you."
There's not a parent on this planet who can't relate to that.