I love my kids, I just hate parenting
Last year, I posted a video of my kids having an impromptu dance party to “We Are The World,” a classic 80s tune my 7-year-old learned about it in school for some inexplicable reason. (I’m not complaining: “We Are The World” is FIRE!)
In the video, my toddler can be seen dancing along with his older brother, occasionally attempting to mimic his amateur break-dancing moves, all while happily sucking on his pacifier.
It caused a little controversy.
I had a good childhood. My parents were attentive and supportive, and we didn’t want for much.
My brothers and I had our own rooms, we had a pool in the backyard, I had a bike, we had cable, a VCR, at one point we had a Laserdisc player for some reason, and we had a big screen TV. I wasn’t spoiled; there was plenty of stuff I wanted that I didn’t get, like the latest video game system, a TV in my room, a car, a girlfriend, a social life, etc., but there was nothing I needed. It was pretty great!
Too bad it’s ruining my kids’ lives.
“Does it get better?”
That’s the question a follower asked me, in a lighthearted panic, after I posted a meme about unruly kids.
It’s just after my often-challenging eldest son’s 8th birthday, and this idea of things becoming easier is on my mind, so all (most) joking aside, I thought I’d try to answer. (But I hate being threatened by more experienced parents who warn me about the tween years or the teen years or the unemployed-and-living-in-my-basement years, so I’m going to try to answer without doing that.)
Mom and Buried has worked in theater – musical theater – for a long time. She’d been angling to watch Annie on one of our movie nights for months, having depleted our stores of Pixar, Star Wars, and age-appropriate superhero flicks.
Last summer, thanks to “CBS Sunday Morning,” she finally had her chance!
One day, after seeing a segment about the play on the sleepy morning news show, my 6-year-old asked Mom and Buried if they could watch Annie.
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.