I love my kids, I just hate parenting
Parents are a competitive bunch.
Despite the fact that every single one of us is just taking shots in the dark and flying by the seat of our pants, we’re still constantly trying to one-up each other when it comes to both our parenting styles and our kids’ accomplishments. Instead of uniting against our children, the authors of our pain, procreation tends to make parents close ranks and face off against one another.
In multiple ways.
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 …
A couple of weekends ago while we were visiting my parents in Connecticut, my oldest brother made a cameo after work.
He’s a sixth-grade teacher and he’d just finished his school day, so he stopped by our parents’ house to say hi to his nephews and grade some quizzes before heading home. I was working at the kitchen table and amidst my typing and his red-pen scribbling, I suddenly heard him say, “98! Way to go, Mia!”
He was genuinely happy that she had done well on his quiz.
Teachers are amazing. Arming them is idiotic.
Read more about Arming Teachers: This Is the Best We Can Do? …
Sleep. Money. Silence. Peace of mind. Snacks.
These are just a few of the things you sacrifice when you decide to become a parent. (Don’t worry, they are replaced – by exhaustion, debt, headaches, scraps, and stress! Yay!) A lot of that is a side-effect of getting older – most of us accrue responsibility with age, whether we have kids or not – but there’s one thing that having kids takes away from you that you can never get back:
Solitude.
Last spring, my wife’s sister and her boyfriend came to join us on our trip to the beach, and they brought their kids.
Except they aren’t *their* kids. Not yet, at least.
They’re foster kids.