(Attention: If this is the first post of mine you’ve ever read you might think I’m one of those bitter parents who doesn’t seem to like their kids very much. You might even be inspired to say nasty and judgmental things in the comments. Dude. Get a grip. The rest of this blog isn’t like this. Well, not usually. But everyone snaps at some point. This week? I’ve snapped.)
You know what the best part of having jobs always was for me? Quitting them. Sure, I had a couple jobs I actually liked, the best being an indie video store in college (Bongo Video in Madison, WI – now closed, sadly) but I had plenty of really crappy ones. Glory was found in quitting.
One of my first jobs as a teenager was so horrible and demeaning that I pissed on the uniform* and then returned it in a grocery bag. When I handed the bag over I said, “This job sucks. I quit.”
It was that bad.
So now I’m a parent. People have long compared parenting to having a job. You hear quotes all the time like “the hardest job you’ll ever love” and stuff like that.
Well you know what? Parenting isn’t just hard.
This job sucks. I quit.
Ahhh, there’s the rub. You can’t quit. Ever.
Oh but I daydream about it sometimes. Don’t you?
When I’m at the bottom of the pit of despair (otherwise known as circling the drain) I daydream about quitting. I envision myself walking out the front door, down the front steps and onto the street. From there I hitchhike and somehow wind up backpacking across Spain. There are wildflowers and country villas and all kinds of lovely things. Complete freedom. Alone.
I’ve even gotten so far as to actually walk out that front door. Course I don’t get past the steps. Instead I collapse onto them and cry my eyes out.
Parenting can be brutal.
And I try really hard to be a “good” parent. To give my kids attention and respect. But you know what?
Sometimes I just want to tell them to fuck off.
Sometimes, this is what I WANT to say versus what I REALLY say…
Oh and those toys that NEVER get picked up? That are covering every surface of my entire house no matter how many times I ask them to pick them up?
Sigh. And they still rarely help.
In addition to the “I don’t like you” thing, he also says “Go Away!” all the time.
And we all know there is nothing worse than a kid who won’t go to sleep.
The pee denial annoys the crap out of me. (This was age 3-4.5 with Crappy Boy. And currently with Crappy Baby. Yay.)
And that contradictions thing they do?
And this happens almost daily…
He ignores me. Followed immediately by him falling.
And after all of these things happen in just one day…
Crappy Papa comes home.
Then I usually hand him something with pee on it.
Some things never change.
*Yes, I really peed on the uniform. True story. It was a gas station.
And admittedly, sometimes I do say what I want to say. Not perfect. Especially during weeks like this. Haven’t set fire to any toys yet though. Yet.