I love my kids, I just hate parenting
As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to join a cult.
Wait, no. I’ve always been fascinated by cults.
From Jonestown to Hale-Bopp, from the Manson Family to Scientology, the psychology of those kinds of groups – and the people who fall prey to them – has interested me.
But I never thought I’d join one myself. Then I had a kid.
I’m not saying I’m a hero (I do replace the toilet paper a fair amount), but I do have some heroic qualities. All parents do.
Parenting requires superpowers. The same way emergencies case adrenaline to kick in and unlock heretofore unknown abilities when one is in danger, parenting reveals unknown reserves of strength, stamina, and, as my 7-year-old points out, invincibility.
He didn’t actually say that – he didn’t say anything, really, he just yelled “You’re the worst, I wish you weren’t my father!” but I survived that, and just a few minutes later, we were snuggling on the couch, watching a movie together.
So yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m invincible.
Everyone has grand plans for how they’ll parent. They’re going to do everything right, and be the perfect mom or dad, and raise the world’s best kid. Becoming a parent forces you to make sacrifices.
And then you have kids. And suddenly you’re in the shit. And when you’re in the shit, things change.
Instead of doing everything right, you start doing plenty of things wrong, making boneheaded parenting mistakes that are probably bad for them, and are definitely bad for you.
We all want to be woke. Especially parents.
We all want to raise our kids with the right values, free from any of society’s toxic baggage, aware of the systemic inequalities and inherent biases that are afforded to certain people for no reasons besides genetic makeup and the circumstances of their birth.
We all want to raise individuals. But what if our kids are stereotypes?
Taking celebrity advice is idiotic. Taking celebrity parenting advice is even worse.
I’m not gonna tell anyone to “shut up and dribble” or to stick to rapping, no matter how ridiculous their comments might be. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions and if we’re gonna get mad that a famous person uses their platform to spout theirs, then maybe we shouldn’t have made that person famous to begin with. The fact is, getting parenting advice from almost anyone – other parents, your parents, non-parents, coworkers, that close-minded anti-Trumper with a dad blog – is one of the small tortures of this lifestyle.
But there’s something worse about celebrity parenting advice.