Potty Training vs. Cover 2: The SJ parenting wars

Happiness isn't everything.

 

I'm not a parent and don't know if I'd be a good one.
But I know that Ms. Slappy's 2-year-old niece behaves herself more for me than she will for her mother. And it pissed her mother off -- not that I make her stop screaming or carrying on, but that the kid listens to me and not her.

 

Weighing in as the mother of a 10 and a 7-year-old. Which means I have not yet experienced the joys of adolescence.

I think people without children are completely capable of flagging examples of atrocious parenting.

Borderline? Not so much. You don't know how you'll handle the dicy situations until you've been there. And you can't tell when someone who's generally a good parent is having a bad five minutes.

 

I think that's completely reasonable.

 

That's pretty common, slap.

My wife and 4-yr-old had a long and detailed discussion about where babies come from that continued over a couple of days.

And then a 6-yr-old down the street told my kid that babies come out of their mom's belly buttons.

Who do you think my daughter believed?

 

I know not a thing about the Cover 2.

 

I'll agree with that.

In fact, before I ever became a parent I wanted to punch people who a) sit their kids with them in the smoking section while they and everyone around them smokes and b) tether their kids to a freakin' leash.

Now that I am a parent I still want to punch those people.

 

You know what else I hate? Strollers.

Obviously you need them when you have a baby, but I see people pushing their 7-year-olds around in them. Let the little cherub walk. He'll sleep without you having to give him a shot of benadryl before bed time. Or, if they're younger, carry him a little and show him stuff.

And these same fuckers act like since they have a fucking stroller they have the right of way. No it doesn't. It means you sit and wait for me to walk by, not push into my fucking ankles or block up three lines at the ticket booth.

 

Barney.

 

Where babies come from?

Better Barney than the Wiggles.

 

I'll add this. I took a series of child psychology classes in college not that long ago, did well in them, understood the concepts. And I have no idea how to deal with little kids. Now, I won't say those two are linked in any concrete way -- ie, people who take child psych classes can't deal well with kids. That's simply not true. On the other hand, I don't think even studying kids in a classroom setting can prepare you fully for being a parent.

 

On year ago, I moved my daughter out of my house and into the dorm of her college so she could begin this next phase of her life. This weekend I spent moving furniture into a real house. Her first real house. As she begins her second year of college.

She just left the hotel. To go stay in her own home for the night. She is living a life of her own, and yet enjoying the company of her family. Somehow, I have to believe that I did something right, somewhere along the way, to raise up a child like this.

The point I am attempting to make is that it seems so easy until you get there. I told myself that I would do things a certain way. I would not do "this." I would not do "that." Etc, etc, etc.

And then the day arrives, and real life hits you square in the face. And at that point, I could only hope to do my best. Whatever my best might be.

And let me tell you, my best probably fell far, far short from other people's "best" many days. But my best is all I could ever give.

And now, here I am, years later, and I feel that my best, somehow, must have been good enough.

So yeah, it hurts deep when others want to criticize the choices I made along the way as a parent. And to tell me how it should have been done.

Being a child is not quite the same as being a parent.