Parenting :: On The Pope and Ass-Kicking and Ruining My Kids For Good

{ That's a big and kinda scary title, huh? }


Some days parenting and being The Mom is so hard.
Some days it is almost effortless.
Some days I want to scoop the kids up and take off for the country,  never to be seen again.
Away from people and other kids and school and TV and electronics and everything.
E  v  e  r  y  t  h  i  n  g.
Some days I couldn't be happier right where we are- in this stage of our lives and their lives and just all of it.
Some days I feel pretty proud of my kids and where they are and how they are doing...
and even, dare I say, a tiny bit proud of the job we are doing as parents.
Then the next day I realize, and have a  major freak out in my head, that I am ruining the kids.
RUINING THEM.


I'm not doing the right things with them, teaching them what's important, we're not going to church regularly, I don't have answers
for the hard
questions and more often than I would like I have to,  I tell them that "I'll get back to you on that one."
But then I forget to.
They've not yet played a team sport(either of them!) or any kind of sport for that matter.
They have never had a puppy or flown on an airplane.
They've never set foot inside a Chuck E. Cheese and might even think we don't have one at all in the state of Illinois.
I am not strong in the patience department, it's one of my worst faults.
If I can't show them patience as I should... will they be able to have/show patience?

Charlotte recently asked my mom(when my mom mentioned the Pope in conversation and described him as wearing a white robe and a big pointy hat):
"You mean like a wizard?"
Yikes.
#Mom(ThatWasRaisedCatholic)Fail.
I mean... that's just wrong... they should know this... that's  MY JOB.
What else don't they know, that they SHOULD know??


Some days I want to go over to school and literally threaten the bratty kid who made an inappropriate gesture/was mean to/used bad +
inappropriate language in front of my kid.
He doesn't need to know this stuff yet!
That's it, I'm homeschooling!
Private school!
And the next day when my child comes home from school with a bruise on his leg from being kicked by a classmate I want to go
physically kick the kid's ass.
Like I actually envision myself kicking an 8-year old's ass. And that's kinda wrong.
But then my child tells me that he kinda pinched the kid first, just lightly and in a kidding way.
And I tell him;  "I bet you keep your hands to yourself next time then, huh?"
But I'm not sure which way is right-- that or whoopin' the classmate's ass ?!


I want to teach them the right way, the appropriate way....
But sometimes that's just really hard.
And don't worry, these ass-kickin' fantasies stay in my head and are not uttered in front of the kids,
I promise.

////////////


And my brain isn't like this every day,  don't worry.
I am pretty laid back in general.
And I'm a laid back parent, no helicopter parenting going on over here.
But still.
Some days it's enough to drive you crazy.
And on those days.... there'd better be a bottle of wine in the house.
Or two.