Failing Upward
The longer that I am a Mother, the more I realize that I don't know anything.
My skin gets a little tougher and I'm not as easily rattled, but I am no closer to knowing how to figure out my kids.
One thing I do know, is that they need even more attention as they grow older. You would think that a two-year-old is at the pinnacle of need. They need to be diapered, dressed, bathed and fed all by your hands. They no longer sleep 20 hours per day and that afternoon nap is all you get for a break. Food must be cut in to appropriate sized pieces, gates must be secured, doors latched and bodies of water observed with hawk-like attentiveness.
I always felt like things would get easier when the kids got older. Don't get me wrong, it's really nice to have all four of them able to feed, dress, wash and toilet independently. What I'm finding is that parenting is way more than my physical time investment. Even after the day is done, as they get older, I think and plan my life around their doings and issues.
Simply having three of them in three different schools is enough. I feel like I am failing more and more as we are not even near the end of 1st Semester and I have already faltered on enforcing AWANA studies and we can't seem to get out the door without forgetting something, having to rush or not eating. I need to get better about having them gather things at night!
Maybe feeling like a failure in parenting is a good sign. If I was confident that David and I had it all together, then we might really be in trouble. This principle is also how I know that I'm not really insane yet. I know that I'm potentially not right in the head, and thereby I'm okay.
Right? Right.
Being a parent does automatically make you a badass. But if you have to wear a headband or shirt that says so, it negates it. Don't do it. Also, wearing the word "ass" in any form on your shirt is a no-no as a parent. Even if they can't read yet, this will make you look like you crawled out of the gutter, over the wrong side of the tracks and hung out with the escaped cons during your pregnancy. Which might mean you really are a badass. No, just a dumbass. Never mind.
Really - if you like the Badass Mother Runner stuff - we can still be friends. Just understand that this is my blog, with my opinions. I am the last person to suck in my breath when someone says a curse word (I'm a virtual compendium of "been there, done that"), I just think it's kinda tacky.
Okay. Now that I've lost the 4 readers that I had...gotta go. Baby just pooped his whole outfit and puked on the floor.
My skin gets a little tougher and I'm not as easily rattled, but I am no closer to knowing how to figure out my kids.
One thing I do know, is that they need even more attention as they grow older. You would think that a two-year-old is at the pinnacle of need. They need to be diapered, dressed, bathed and fed all by your hands. They no longer sleep 20 hours per day and that afternoon nap is all you get for a break. Food must be cut in to appropriate sized pieces, gates must be secured, doors latched and bodies of water observed with hawk-like attentiveness.
I always felt like things would get easier when the kids got older. Don't get me wrong, it's really nice to have all four of them able to feed, dress, wash and toilet independently. What I'm finding is that parenting is way more than my physical time investment. Even after the day is done, as they get older, I think and plan my life around their doings and issues.
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| Not a fan of this sentiment. (source) |
Maybe feeling like a failure in parenting is a good sign. If I was confident that David and I had it all together, then we might really be in trouble. This principle is also how I know that I'm not really insane yet. I know that I'm potentially not right in the head, and thereby I'm okay.
Right? Right.
Being a parent does automatically make you a badass. But if you have to wear a headband or shirt that says so, it negates it. Don't do it. Also, wearing the word "ass" in any form on your shirt is a no-no as a parent. Even if they can't read yet, this will make you look like you crawled out of the gutter, over the wrong side of the tracks and hung out with the escaped cons during your pregnancy. Which might mean you really are a badass. No, just a dumbass. Never mind.
Really - if you like the Badass Mother Runner stuff - we can still be friends. Just understand that this is my blog, with my opinions. I am the last person to suck in my breath when someone says a curse word (I'm a virtual compendium of "been there, done that"), I just think it's kinda tacky.
Okay. Now that I've lost the 4 readers that I had...gotta go. Baby just pooped his whole outfit and puked on the floor.
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