I love my kids, I just hate parenting
It’s the best of times, it’s the worst of times, it’s bedtime. You’ve done it, you’ve survived another day of parenting, and your reward – a few hours of adult TV, a glass of wine or beer, and a little blissful silence – is just around the corner. But first, you have one more challenge:Read more about Bedtime is Hell[…]
I could hear them talking in the other room.
My wife’s voice was soft, nearly whispering. My son’s voice, on those rare occasions when he interjected, was uncharacteristically tentative, uncertain and wary. I stopped listening. I knew what was being discussed.
My wife has multiple sclerosis. And she was explaining it to him.
My oldest son is 8 years old, smart as a whip, sensitive like his mom and a smart-ass like his dad. He’s imaginative and excitable, he loves to read and play video games, and he hates sports.
He also has trouble focusing and sitting still, and he often has out-sized emotional reactions to minor incidents.
After years of being frustrated by what I considered his immaturity and spoiled entitlement, I now know that much of his most challenging behavior is a manifestation of his ADHD.
Parenting is hard.
Everyone knows this. Parents know, the child-free know, even kids know. They don’t care, but they know.
Caring for and raising and protecting and molding and teaching another human being, from scratch, is mentally taxing, physically exhausting, expensive, boring, and stressful. Even if you think it’s the greatest thing in the world, you can’t deny how challenging it is.
So why do we lie about it?
I am not ashamed to admit that I sleep on the couch sometimes, and it’s not always because Mom and Buried is mad at me!
Sometimes it’s because I’M mad at HER! How about THAT?!
Most of the time, though, I sleep on the couch because it’s the nice thing to do…