The key to good parenting is consistency. The key to good parenting is consequences. The key to good parenting is modeling good behavior. A neutral tone. Honoring their agency. Setting limits.
Parenting books, parenting articles, parenting parents, please go away.
I do not have the key to good parenting and never will. I just went into my girls' room and honestly marveled at the level of mess they are comfortable with. I shouldn't marvel. I know. I shouldn't marvel about the mess they are comfortable with in front of them. I know!
There are things, however, that I honestly can't believe kids don't instinctively get. Things like "you shouldn't scream in small enclosed spaces." Or, "mothers are not magical concierges with access to all things in the universe that you ever wanted or needed." (I do not know where your shoes are, YOU HAD THEM LAST).
They actually don't know this stuff. Worse, they don't know this stuff after being told once. Three times. Fifty. Thousand. Times.
This is how the balance goes: 5% of the time I'm like "I am a really especially excellent mother." 72% of the time I'm (a) running around or (b) hiding from my children and not really thinking about how I'm doing. And 13% of the time I'm convinced that I am leaving them some pretty tight emotional knots to untangle throughout their lives.
Please let me be wrong. Because look at them! They are too wonderful!
I don't know why I got them. But cross your fingers for all of us.
Parenting books, parenting articles, parenting parents, please go away.
I do not have the key to good parenting and never will. I just went into my girls' room and honestly marveled at the level of mess they are comfortable with. I shouldn't marvel. I know. I shouldn't marvel about the mess they are comfortable with in front of them. I know!
There are things, however, that I honestly can't believe kids don't instinctively get. Things like "you shouldn't scream in small enclosed spaces." Or, "mothers are not magical concierges with access to all things in the universe that you ever wanted or needed." (I do not know where your shoes are, YOU HAD THEM LAST).
They actually don't know this stuff. Worse, they don't know this stuff after being told once. Three times. Fifty. Thousand. Times.
This is how the balance goes: 5% of the time I'm like "I am a really especially excellent mother." 72% of the time I'm (a) running around or (b) hiding from my children and not really thinking about how I'm doing. And 13% of the time I'm convinced that I am leaving them some pretty tight emotional knots to untangle throughout their lives.
Please let me be wrong. Because look at them! They are too wonderful!
I don't know why I got them. But cross your fingers for all of us.
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