Everyone has an idea of how they’re going to parent, perhaps something about family meals with locally sourced foods, no screen time, or maybe, like my youngest daughter’s plan, dressing the kids solely in sailor suits. About three months into it, she, like the rest of us, will quickly realize these high-minded ideals are the first things to be chucked. Parenting is more like triage. Whatever gets you through the day is what’s gonna happen.
This month’s column idea came courtesy of my friend Emily, who is currently triaging with a baby and an active toddler (“active toddler” being redundant) and wrote: “Your next topic should be ‘All the %#@^ I do to get through the day that pre-kids me swore high and low I’d never ever do’.”
So I asked that very question and you answered, delightfully so.
Everything about food: “I thought I could raise them vegetarian, uh nope! I also said I would only make one dinner and if they didn’t like it they could go to bed hungry, nope!,” says L. (I’m using first initials only to protect my sources.)
“Formula supplementing, food pouches and serving ‘kid food’ and separate meals for my toddler because he eats at 5:30 and I’m an adult,” says E.
“I pack the same school lunch of processed cheese squares, salami, tube o’ yogurt, Goldfish and apple slices every morning and call it a victory,” says B.
And judging by the number of people who mentioned them specifically, there could be a whole different category for “I bought that huge box of frozen corn dogs at Costco and don’t feel good about myself.”
Saying dumb mom-ish things: This includes “Because I said so,” “Life’s not fair” and “Don’t sass me.”
“I have actually used ‘shenanigans’ in a non-ironic way,” says T. (A whole subset of this is warnings/life advice for situations you never dreamed would come up. I actually had to say to my kid, “Don’t eat popcorn with scissors.” They were safety scissors, but still.)
Travel laxity: I once let a toddler eat Cheerios off the floor of a plane because it finally stopped her epic crying spree and the entire plane could stop giving us side eye.
For C, her parenting slips were “pretty much everything I did on airplanes to keep them calm/not pissing off nearby passengers. Nonstop video watching, snacks galore, you name it, I caved. I breast-fed for almost an entire flight once. Basically, I let myself be used as a human pacifier. Whatever it took!”
Makeshift discipline: I never thought I would “Use more or less daily TV (as punishment and reward), timers and counting to get things done,” lists E.
And, of course, one word (for all ages): Bribes. “Couldn’t get through a day without them” says M. “So bad but oooh so good.”
Buying time in iffy ways: “I hand my kid a phone at a restaurant/waiting room/in 405 traffic/on a Sunday morning so I can sleep,” says E.
“Driving them in the car, using gas, emissions, global warming, yada yada, simply to put the kid to sleep. Then leaving them in said car in the driveway while I was in the house doing whatever the hell I wanted to do because the kid was finally asleep,” says S, who added “I also never thought I would say “Global warming, yada, yada.” Which leads us to …
Tossing out cherished ideals: “I never thought I’d let my daughter go out in public or to school looking messy, like her mother didn’t care. At 2, she made it very clear to me that she had her own style (mismatched patterns, sweats under dresses, 2 different socks). I quit the struggle and let go of what people thought. It was so freeing,” says B.
My worst is sending my very little girls to vacation Bible school even though I’m not particularly religious. It turned out to be super hard-core – small children were testifying on stage and 4-year-olds were told go out and spread the word. I wasn’t into that at all (not against church, just against forcing wee children who don’t particularly understand to convert random kids on the playground). However, I kept them in it for the whole week. Because it was free and it gave me two hours a day alone.
Succumbing to gender roles: “I swore I’d NEVER let my boys play with toy guns, because that would lead to a life of real guns, love of war, regular bouts of anger and hostility! By age 3, they were building guns with Legos, finding sticks shaped like weapons, even eating toast to resemble the shape of a handgun, says K. “I finally gave up and let them have water guns. Happy to say my three sons have not turned into serial killers despite my giving in.”
“The pink cup, the princess plate! Would never have caved in to such indulgent demands!!!” says E, who now caves on a regular basis.
Hanging out in iffy places: “Chuck E. Cheese. I swore I’d never take my kid to play in that giant rat hole,” admits V.
“I felt so bad for those loser parents that had to go to story time at the library,” says D. “And boy did I look forward to those stupid story times at the library just to break up the day.”
Redefining sex: “Setting the alarm for 5:30 in the morning to have 20-minute sex. Because night sex is tiring,” says T.
And my favorite of all: “Telling them a sex toy they found is a ‘bath toy,’ then letting them play with it in the bath,” says G.
