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.
This morning, I asked Detective Munch what he wanted for breakfast. He didn’t answer me.
You see, he was already whining about the fact that I’d asked him to get dressed before eating, because that’s not the way he usually does things, so it was perfectly understandable that he also collapsed to the ground as if he’d just gotten shot and was therefore ignoring my request for his breakfast order.
Parenting is fun!
Last summer, on Facebook, I saw a photo of a sign some new parents made after having a baby, in which they demanded help around the house in return for time with their newborn. I wrote a post about it. I shared it on Instagram. People were divided.
Some, myself included, felt the sign was presumptuous, pretentious, obnoxious, and at the very least, tacky. Others felt that in a world of overbearing in-laws, rude guests, and oblivious people with no awareness of how to behave around new parents, the sign was necessary.
Maybe we’re both right. Because people don’t know how to act around new parents.
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.