A lot of people who read my content think I’m a bad parent. And the truth is they’re right.
They think I’m a bad parent because I say rude things about my kids, I act like they are a nuisance, I complain about how hard parenting is, and because I bemoan the things I’ve lost since I became a parent. It’s true; I do all of that.
But that’s not what makes me a bad parent.
They think I’m a bad parent because it seems like I hate parenting (I do!) and sometimes it seems like I wish I’d never had kids (I don’t!). And they think I’m a bad parent because I spoil my kids (I thought I hated them?) and because I believe in science (I got them vaccinated BECAUSE I hate them!) and because I’m a libtard (I am anti-racist and pro-gun control and anti-Trump and pro-LGBTQIA and anti-misogyny and pro-choice and anti-ignorance and pro-facts and pro-reality and pro-history. I’m also anti-using the term “tard”).
Again, they’re right. I am a bad parent. But not for any of those reasons. (And definitely not for that last set of reasons. I’d rather arm my kids with pronouns and teach them to respect other people than arm them with assault rifles and teach them to be afraid of other people.)
The reality is that I’m a bad parent for the same reasons everyone else is: I give my kids too much screen time. I give them too much junk food. I swear too much. I yell too much. I don’t give them enough vegetables. I don’t give them enough praise. I’m inconsistent with discipline. I’m bad with homework. I take too many shortcuts.
I fall down on the job for the same reasons every parent falls down on the job, but I don’t neglect my kids, I don’t deprive them of love or food or shelter, I don’t beat them, I don’t lock them in the closet or endanger them or abuse them. I don’t do anything that CPS would need to investigate, despite how often strangers online angrily declare that I should be investigated.
The only difference between me and you is that I talk about how bad I am at this. I put myself on blast, constantly. I share the good, the bad, and the exhausting! (Spoiler alert: that’s the subtitle of my book, coming this spring!) Only not much of the good.
The other day, I posted this on Threads, and it got a ton of backlash from all the good parents out there:
I should have known! The 4yo in question is now 7 (somehow, after I starved him for a whole 8 hours, he survived!), so it wasn’t the first time I’d shared that joke, and it causes a bit of an uproar every time I do. Because social media. But I thought the still young and still less toxic Threads was more chill. I thought wrong. (I really should have known.)
Shortly thereafter, I posted this image on IG:
A few people messaged me to say that such a sweet pic was gonna blow my cover as a bad dad, because it’s not often I post something sappy or positive or not-borderline-depressing about being a parent.
But that’s by design!
The same way some - most? - social media parents only post the good stuff, I mostly post the bad. Why? Because it’s funnier! More often than not, it’s truer too. And the only thing I care about more than being funny is being honest.
Besides, when it comes to loving their kids, most parents deserve the benefit of the doubt, even – especially! - the ones who bitch all the time. I don’t need to announce to the world or reassure anyone online that I love my kids. I feel like it’s pretty self-evident.
My entire online persona is devoted to how irritating and frustrating and soul-crushing parenthood is, and parenthood is only irritating and frustrating and soul-crushing when you actually do it, when you actually give a shit about it, and when you truly care about the people you’re parenting. As I said to my increasingly difficult 13-year-old yesterday: My life would be immeasurably easier if I didn’t care about him and his brother. Unfortunately for me, I do.
But I don’t feel the need to justify it to strangers.
I’m totally fine being a bad parent. Especially since most self-proclaimed “good parents” are the most annoying people on earth.
And I should know; I have kids!
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Spooktober lurches on!
We’ve been watching The Fall of the House of Usher on Netflix. I don’t love it. I’m a fan of Mike Flanagan’s stuff - I’ve mentioned my love of Doctor Sleep several times! - including his Netflix series. And while I love Bruce Greenwood’s performance and appreciate the Poe references, I don’t find this show even remotely frightening, and his insistence on using the same actors in every project sort of bugs me, but that’s mostly because I don’t love all the actors. The production value is great but something about the show feels sort of amateurish. It’s probably just me.
We’ve mostly been watching old faves, like Poltergeist, which is such a fun movie and still has some scary moments, nearly 50 years after the tree scene traumatized me as a kid (I had a big tree like that outside of my own bedroom window, which didn’t help.), but we did rent Talk To Me, this summer’s big horror flick, which I liked but didn’t quite love. Cool premise, killer ending, but a little light on the terror, and some of the self-harm stuff is too much for me. (I don’t do torture porn or the Saw movies. Not my thing.)
We still have a few classics left to tackle over this last stretch, including Rosemary’s Baby, which is on the shortlist for my favorite movie of all time, and maybe even Hocus Pocus, which, for me, is the scariest of them all.
As always, I’m happy to take recommendations in the comments!