I love my kids, I just hate parenting
My 7-year-old always wants to play something with me. It’s usually Zelda, which I’m no good at, sometimes it’s hide and seek, which he’s no good at, and sometimes it’s “surprise Daddy by jumping on his crotch.”
Needless to say, we need new games. And we’ve finally found some.
Read more about Giveaway! Monopoly Junior: Electronic Banking Edition …
So A Wrinkle In Time hits theaters this weekend. The book is a big deal to a lot of people, but I’ve never read it (blind spot!) and my 7-year-old hasn’t gotten to it yet, and as such the movie isn’t really on my radar.
Well, it wasn’t on my radar, until I came across a little bit of controversy over the poster. It prominently features the female lead and the mostly female cast (does Oprah even have a gender? I feel like she’s singular), all bathed in pastel colors, and it ignited another discussion about gender stereotypes.
Apparently, someone thinks the poster doesn’t appeal to boys. To which I say: who cares? It’s a poster!
I recently shared a tweet decrying the daily balance parents are forced to strike between their kids’ lives and their own.
My tweet was about the well-deserved oasis of adult time that falls between those few hours when my oldest son goes to sleep and when I go to sleep, and about how that gap is shrinking as he gets older and stays up later.
When I shared it on Twitter, a fellow parent responded succinctly: Parenting is overrated.
But is it?
Read more about Is Parenting Overrated? …
My 7-year-old always wants more.
He wants more toys, even though he doesn’t play with half the ones he has. He wants more dessert, even when he can barely ask for it because his mouth is already full of dessert. He wants more time before bed, which he usually gets by tortuously extending the bedtime routine. All this demand for more makes me want less — less whining, less stress, less kids!
Of course, children aren’t the only ones who want more. Adults have the same obsession, especially parents.
Kids are walking disasters.
This is nothing new. There’s nothing that they can’t/won’t/already have destroy(ed). Every parent already knows this. And we also know that it’s our job to protect them from themselves, as difficult as they can sometimes be, because we know better.
But just because we know better doesn’t always mean that we do better, which is why Mom and Buried and I keep insisting on having taco nights despite the fact that the aftermath looks like the front row of a Gallagher concert.