We’re In The Navy Now, Baby!

The following real SEAL Physical Screening Test (PST) is designed to see if you have what it takes to enter SEAL training. To pass you must be able to complete the following regimen:

 Swim 500 yard breast or side stroke 12:30 10:00 9:30
 Push-ups in two-minutes 42 79 100
 Sit-ups in two-minutes 50 79 100
 Pull-ups no time limit 06 11 25
 Run 1.5 miles* 11:00 10:20 09:30


Below is the Parent Screening Test (PST). You don’t actually have to pass anything, God will take care of your future.

Required hours of sleep 8 6.5 and cranky 3
 Amount of necessary memory 2 years back about 45 minutes ago 10 years back
 Ability to rapidly clean up floor poop, while child who made it vomits at the smell  5 minutes vomits with child 1 minute
Times a week you can run an errand with all your kids wearing matching shoes at the same time 4 7 with one pair loose in the cart 10
 Number of times you can tolerate listening to your name being called by a whiney voice in a 1 minute period 3 10 + verbal retaliation 46

Honestly, it really doesn’t matter one bit what you can accomplish before Parenthood to prove you are worthy of the task. The raw truth is, 2-4 years into it, you are so changed you really can’t remember much of who that person was that even took that stupid test. They are long gone. And just where did you set your coffee down?

All in all change is good. It’s the rapid fire pace at which it occurs that sometimes gets the best of me. As in, I’m still used to relying on my memory to give me information. When I was a non-parent I had a steel trap of a memory with a knack for remembering conversations especially (it made people feel valued).

This week at work I e-mailed my supervisor to inform her that the overhead bin to my cubicle was locked, I didn’t have the key, nor did I know who locked it. All I keep in there is envelopes (my client files are double locked in a lower drawer) anyway. I found this all incredibly annoying.

My supervisor wrote me back, requesting more information as to how my bin got locked in the first place, and who would do such a thing. I had no answers, but suggested maintenance may be needed to come reopen my bin.

My supervisor comes over, gets the lock number off my bin, and heads off in search of spare keys. I paw through my desk clutter, and locate both the key and the green glitter CHEER Christmas ornament I hung on it, stuffed in my pen holder. Huh. Suddenly I have a faint flicker of a memory. Scurrying about to get out of work ASAP, heading to the car to relieve my mother of my children and running late. OOOOohhhh, I think I was the one who locked the bin, hid my key from myself, didn’t need envelopes for a week, and then had no recollection how my bin got locked. Darn it. Somedays I really do wonder if I used to have 3 kids… sigh.

Another small skill I used to take for granted was the ability to dress my first born girl in ADORABLE little matching outfits, all courtesy of her 2 baby showers. I had received enough cute clothing to launch this kid well into first grade, and enjoyed every second of playing dress up with my live doll. The pictures were the best part!

Today is the 4th day of Summer Bible Camp (think VBS).  We’re all a bit draggy, but still very excited. Manchild has recently made it his personal mission to play “Guess If I’m Wearing Underwear” with the rest of the USA and today, I caught him going commando (that’s what happens when you tuck your shirt into thin mesh shorts). I halted his progress, and introduced him to a pair of blue striped undies, and after making sure said undies cleared his knee caps, I continued onwards, leaving him to suit up.

It wasn’t until we were 15 minutes late, Girlchild was sobbing about her parent enforced footwear (not the missing shoes she wanted to wear) and Manchild was happily chirping while Captain Schenanigans strapped him into his 5-point harness, that it was revealed that Manchild was wearing NO PANTS AT ALL!!! See, this is the problem with giving 4yr old boys Medium sized camp shirts when all the Smalls run out. There is now a new chance for calculated laziness that the casual observer would not have considered. While I understand there are no secrets between you and Jesus, Manchild, there should be just a few between you and the rest of society. But thanks a heap for pointing out the gaps in our parenting skills.

To follow up, in an effort to spare the maintenance men at work, I did sheepishly tell my supervisor about my bin mistake. But not until I told her the story of Manchild’s pantsless escapade, and she was laughing too hard to care.

So while I’m fairly certain I’m never going to experience the Navy Seals knocking at my door for recruitment, I’m also willing to bet the farm that any given Navy Seal just might sweat a bit to pull off running this family as well. Considering the vast levels of skills required in each vocation, I’m just going to call us even!



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s