I love my kids, I just hate parenting
Last week, in the wake of President Trump’s 5000th example (“shithole”) of why he’s both the worst president of all time and one of the worst people on earth, I posted a few “political” posts on Facebook and Instagram.
Almost immediately, I got jumped on for violating a make-believe oath I never took about only using my accounts to provide an escape for strangers I’ll never meet.
Please allow me to not apologize.
I’m not one for jewelry.
I don’t wear a necklace, and I definitely don’t wear any bracelets. I don’t wear a watch, or a Fitbit; I never even wore a LiveStrong band. I keep it simple. Beauty like this doesn’t need adornments!
But I’ve been wearing an elastic band on my wrist for a little while now. It’s not a fashion statement; it’s a reminder. It’s a reminder that I am too hard on my seven-year-old.
I don’t do sappy and sentimental. It’s just not me.
Instead, I mock, affectionately, and sarcastically, and honestly too. This can lead to communication breakdowns with all manner of people, from friends and family to coworkers, waitresses, even strangers. When you rely on sarcasm, it makes being sincere twice as difficult, both because you’re less comfortable with it and because no one believes you!
When it comes to my kids, and this blog, I occasionally take a break from myself and get all into my feelings. To make sure people buy it, I typically do it on their birthdays.
Today is The Hammer’s second birthday. Brace yourself.
Read more about Top 10 Reasons Why I Love My Son (Part Two) …
Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t hate my kids.
In fact, some of the time, I downright love the little jerks! They’re fun in very specific, individual ways, which is delightful, and they’re annoying in mostly general, every-kid-is-like-that ways, which is forgivable.
But I do hate parenting, at least some of the time. It’s a tough gig. And referring to it as a “gig” is part of the problem. Because parenthood is not a job. And treating it like one – like a chore to begrudgingly complete – is bad for everyone.
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.