Parents are Overrated

Parents are Overrated

I’m kind of a big deal. But you already knew that. I mean, I’m regularly featured on Scary Mommy.

Of course, even if I weren’t a world-renowned blogger whose diatribes about how living with children is like being in prison have been translated into multiple languages and who has subsequently been hated-on by people on multiple continents, I’d still be pretty damn important. Because I’m a parent.

And if kids are our most valuable resource, then parents are priceless.

Except we’re not. Because parents are overrated.

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I Won’t Let My Son Join the Military

I Won’t Let My Son Join the Military

First things first: I support the troops; I love America and Ford and apple pie and Credence Clearwater Revival; I pledge allegiance to the flag and take my hat off during the national anthem; I hate terrorism and ISIS and think they must be stopped, somehow.

Just not by my son. I don’t want him near a military recruiting office. Not in a million years.

I won’t let my son join the military.

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Am I a Good Parent?

Am I a Good Parent?

Last week, I wrote a piece about many ways parents constantly second-guess themselves. I surely missed a lot of examples, which was inevitable; every parent has different anxieties, and every parent questions themselves in different ways.

But no matter the specific details of your insecurities, it all boils down to asking yourself the same thing: Am I a good parent?

I’m not.

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Under the Influences

Under the Influences

In a recent post for Lifetime Moms, I mentioned that the issue of my son having “bad influences” – i.e., influences that aren’t his parents – wasn’t one I was expecting to encounter for a while. I expected him to be primarily under the influence of me for the next few years.

And then he met Xander.

And Xander ruined my son’s childhood.

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Questionable Parenting

Questionable Parenting

Being a parent is hard.

You start from scratch every day and run until you’re empty, hoping that you’ve made a dent, that you did something right, that one of your lessons actually sticks. One of the intentional ones.

But you won’t know for a while. Not for years, not truly. And the lack of feedback, direct or otherwise, makes the job even harder. It’s impossible to know how well you’re doing and thus it’s very easy to succumb to self-doubt.

This is why judgment from other parents is so obnoxious; it’s redundant. Every decent parent already constantly questions their own parenting.

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