I love my kids, I just hate parenting
As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to join a cult.
Wait, no. I’ve always been fascinated by cults.
From Jonestown to Hale-Bopp, from the Manson Family to Scientology, the psychology of those kinds of groups – and the people who fall prey to them – has interested me.
But I never thought I’d join one myself. Then I had a kid.
Sunday is Mother’s Day.
Yet another in a long list of holidays centered around the women in our lives! And yet… it makes sense. Especially for moms. In fact, they probably deserve more than one day.
Because let’s be honest: moms get screwed.
We all want to be woke. Especially parents.
We all want to raise our kids with the right values, free from any of society’s toxic baggage, aware of the systemic inequalities and inherent biases that are afforded to certain people for no reasons besides genetic makeup and the circumstances of their birth.
We all want to raise individuals. But what if our kids are stereotypes?
Taking celebrity advice is idiotic. Taking celebrity parenting advice is even worse.
I’m not gonna tell anyone to “shut up and dribble” or to stick to rapping, no matter how ridiculous their comments might be. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions and if we’re gonna get mad that a famous person uses their platform to spout theirs, then maybe we shouldn’t have made that person famous to begin with. The fact is, getting parenting advice from almost anyone – other parents, your parents, non-parents, coworkers, that close-minded anti-Trumper with a dad blog – is one of the small tortures of this lifestyle.
But there’s something worse about celebrity parenting advice.
A few months ago, I joined that Sarahah site, via which people can send you anonymous messages (hmu: username dadandburied, duh).
I was expecting to get mocked and hoping to be praised. Unfortunately, I ended up getting asked heavy questions, like the one in the photo: do you enjoy being a dad or do you wish you were free?
Um, both? It’s a paradox.