I love my kids, I just hate parenting
Kids aren’t good at very many things, but they are good at going berserk on their parents for no reason.
After a while, you get used to their antics, and learn enough about their irrational ways that you can properly anticipate, and safely weather, one of their outbursts.
If you’re not yet schooled in the five stages of throwing a fit, don’t worry. I’m here to help.
The other day, I ran across an article on Babble entitled, The 20 Most Common Parenting Mistakes, According to a Family Psychologist. I can’t afford a family psychologist, so I checked it out in the hopes of getting some free tips.
Then I read it. And, as I often do with these kinds of articles, I had some comments.
The Hammer is not even two weeks old and he’s already disrupting our lives.
We love having him around, of course (he’s adorable, and all he does is sleep! What’s not to love?) but the reality of living with an infant is that whatever routine you had – and we had one that worked for close to five years – is immediately thrown in the shredder.
The new baby has changed the way we sleep, changed the way eat, changed the way live, and changed the way we treat each other (sorry, that was Tupac). But perhaps nothing has changed more than how we parent our five-year-old.
Detective Munch has been the VIP of my family for the last five years.
He’s the only grandchild my parents have, the only nephew my brothers have, and the only kid Mom and Buried and I have. As such, he’s been living the high life, as the center of attention, the sole attraction, the primary beneficiary. And, mostly, as the getter of the leeway.
But his gravy train is about to crash.
I can’t pretend (despite the fact that I sometimes do pretend) to know the first thing about how to properly raise your kids. But there are a few obvious dos and don’ts:
There’s one thing that should have its own category, though.
Ignoring your kids is not advisable. Except when it is. And then it’s glorious. Because ignoring is bliss.