The Joys of Parenting

You know how when you're in your teens or early twenties and you are out and about and witness that parenting disaster that every one of us has seen at some point in our life? You know, that kid having a hissy fit very loudly, somewhere very public and their mother is ignoring them or screaming and bitching just as loudly? You shake your head and wonder why they even bother taking their kid out anywhere.

And then you have kids of your own and it's like oh, yeah, okay. I so understand now.

Because as parents, we just don't learn. Your kids are so cute and precious and everyone tells you how well-behaved they are during play dates or sleepovers.
So you're like, "Okay, we have to go to the grocery store later. You going to behave?"
"Yes, I promise."

 

And I'll be damned if we don't believe them. Especially when they act like little angels all day leading up to said outing. Cleaning up their toys. Eating their meals. Giving hugs and kisses freely. We get that gooey feeling in our mommy parts (those ridiculous parts that often tell us to pop another one of these little demons out) and think, oh, maybe I'll get them a treat while we're there. Since they have been so good. You might even mention that on the ride there.

But the grocery store or mall or wherever the hell we think we can take these animals is a completely different story. Things start out okay. You go down an aisle or two and they might say something overly loud and embarrassing here and there but you're used to that and just shrug it off. You let them pick out a treat after you grab a few necessities. 

Then they start the arguing amongst themselves. Bickering, pushing, smacking that gets rougher and nearly deafening as you try to push the cart or stroller. Maybe one offers to push the cart and starts running down the aisle. Shrieking and swerving, nearly taking out other shoppers who are just trying to get some fucking groceries, the baby in the cart laughing hysterically (and maybe suffering some whiplash around those corners) while you walk/run to catch up, your voice serious but still in control because you are not about to lose your cool in front of the other moms, elderly people, or single hotties watching this fiasco unfold. Most likely, they do hit a few people that you hurriedly apologize to while you attempt to retrieve your damn cart.

Meanwhile, the fight amongst the others has turned into a suspicious whispering and next thing you know, they are racing each other up and down the aisles.
You get your cart and youngest spawn back easily now because the other one wants to join in the game, despite your low, guttural threats. You're worked up, threatening in a resounding voice that you will put their treats back if they don't get back to the cart and chill out. They barely notice because they have disappeared down another aisle, their high-pitched laughter echoing across the entire damn store.

At this point, fuck the list you so carefully made. You just want to get the hell out of here so you can take them home and open up a can of whoop ass on these kids that they have never experienced in their all-too-short, and possibly almost at an end, lives. Hell, you're too exhausted to even go put their treats back.

Pushing down the aisles with angry purpose, snatching up screaming monsters left and right, you vice grip their little arms and drag them to the register. Whatever you have in the cart now will just have to fucking do. This is when the baby, who has been chill through this entire debacle, decides to scream and raise hell. She can't possibly sit in this cart a moment longer now that it isn't in motion and must be held by none other than, you guessed it, you. Holding a whiny kid on one hip, tossing crap from the cart to the register, the other kids finally realize just how pissed you are and begin to calm down. Or, they decide now is the time to start the I wants and hit the floor crying when you growl no. 

Fumbling in your purse for your wallet, someone (there is always someone, it might be the bag boy or another customer but there is always someone) takes this moment to comment on how beautiful your kids are. You want to say, "You want one? Here, take them all!" but you calmly smile and say thank you. And then they ask the worst question they could possibly ask you at a time like this. 
"Do you plan on having more?"
This is when your carefully placed mask of cheerfulness falters and you glance around at the little terrors, partially to make sure no one has taken off again, and say something along the lines of, "Oh no, I think I've had enough." Your inner mommy parts are in complete agreeance with you on this (though they will turn traitor later on, guaranteed) and you turn away, signaling that this conversation is so over. Because the next person that talks to you, whether it is some adult or one of your kids, is going to witness you lose your shit.

And this is how you get home with half the groceries you needed, completely stressed, and most likely now have to go make dinner. While they enjoy their damn treats. You swear up and down that you will never take them out again, knowing in the back of your mind that you will, probably within the next week, too. 



So you see youngsters, mommies who ignore the screaming tantrums are trying to do the right thing. They are trying to keep their calm and wait for the storm to pass. A kid can't scream forever, especially if they don't have an attentive audience. Mommies that are completely wigging out on their kid, possibly spanking them right in front of you in the checkout line, have been pushed past the point of rational thought and could give two shits what you think of their parenting skills.

Being a parent is being on a never-ending roller coaster. Up and down and around and around. It is fun and magical. It is nerve-wracking and exhausting. It is little hands slipping in yours and butterfly kisses. It is public tantrums and pushing boundaries. One minute you love it, one minute you can actually see your hair turning white. 

So for the love of Mother Nature, do not judge! There is no such thing as a perfect parent. We are all just doing the best we can here and that is all we can do.