15 years into the parenting "adventure" and some of the shine has worn off the rose just a bit. Because this? Is hard. Really, really hard.
We, my husband and I, are trying to raise people. Human beings who will hopefully one day be happy, successful (in whatever way is important to them), and kind.
I want them to remember childhood fondly.
I want them to be strong and moral.
I want them to help others.
But first, I want them to clean their rooms and do their homework. And maybe -- as a bonus -- maybe not look for new and creative ways to torture their siblings.
And that's what's so damn hard, that I know there is a connection between doing homework and helping others later in life, I just know there is, but it's not rational, and it's not linear, and it's messy and complicated, and I cannot for the life of me figure out just what kind of parent I am.
On good days, I know that parenting is art, not science. On bad days, I'm just sure I'm screwing up on a grand scale.
So Kelly Corrigan, this reflection arrived in my in-box at a great time, a time when I needed to know that other people flip the bird to a retreating child's back too. (Did you see me do that, that one time, Ms. Corrigan??)
Art and adventure. And well written words to sustain us. Thank you, from my little corner of the trenches.
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