I am all about confessions. Confess away. Sometimes it's nice to get things off your chest. But I took issue with the article, because this woman's "confessions" were 100% Grade A horse puckey.
She confessed to not wearing makeup every day. Gasp!
To occasionally feeling too sick to play with her kids. Uh - gasp?
To not answering the dryer immediately when it buzzed, with such regularity that she had never folded a basket of warm towels.
Okay - I can't even fake surprise anymore. Or interest. These things have nothing to do with anything - not parenting, not "doing it all", not even just being a regular ol' human of any stripe. You fold warm towels? That's fine. You don't? That's fine, too. But to pretend it was ever somehow the goal is ludicrous - this was clearly a humblebrag in the skin of a confessional, and I just won't stand for it. Most parents are doing the best with what they've got, and they deserve better.
I would like to offer up some of my own parental musings to counter the false perfectionism that some folks seem to want to stuff down other people's throats:
- Subsequent Child Ambivalence. Ohmygawd I can't believe I'm starting this all over again.
- Incremental Returns of Freedom. Buckling their own seatbelts. Zipping their own jackets. Packing their own lunches. Tiny wins, but by golly they're like a gulp of fresh air when you've been immersed for so long in the daily grind of little humans.
- Outsourcing. Homemade has never felt as good as sane.
- Difficult Truths. Sometimes, your kids will be real a-holes. It's okay to notice this.
- Adulthood Fatigue. When is it my turn to throw a tantrum?
- Gentle Tyranny I. They stay up later than you, every night of the week. You will never have a moment alone again.
- Gentle Tyranny II. Or sex - you will never have that again either. Nothing kills the mood like knowing your teenager is quietly doing math homework in the kitchen, directly beneath your bedroom.
- Reducing Entropy. I fantasize - actually, truly fantasize - about the day the kids move out and I can live in a clean house. That stays clean. In fact, some days I think DH can just go ahead and move out too - then NO ONE will walk on my clean floors ever, ever again, and I will be able to die happy.
- The Sound of Silence. I misses it so.
Go in peace.