The Only Perfect Parent is One Without Children

Once upon a time, I knew everything about raising children. It was, of course, before I had children, but I was a total expert.

For instance, I gave noisy children in church the stink-eye. Seriously, can these people control their kids for an hour? And who lets toddlers stand in grocery carts? Good Lord! McDonald's for supper?! Why not just open up their little mouths and pour Crisco down their poor, innocent throats? And what's with the pacifier, that kid's three years old, if he's a day!

Firm, consistent discipline, people. That's all it takes. (Or so my naive and well-rested brain thought).

I remember visiting my cousin Wendy, who had two young children at the time. The girls had been playing in the sandbox and came into the house without emptying out their pockets or dumping out their shoes, then dropped their shovels and buckets in front of the fridge. Sand all over the floor! I must have looked a little unnerved, because Wendy said, "You know, they're quiet and playing and we get to talk uninterrupted, so I'm just going to let them go." WHAT? Let them go! They're bringing half the Jersey shore into the kitchen!

And then I had children.

Children who were not quiet in church, refused to sit in grocery carts, love their chicken nuggets, and used pacifiers well past age three.

I do my best, I really try, but they wear me down. Firm, consistent discipline is HARD! And I'm often tired, grumpy, and (kinda) lazy. I've learned to let the small stuff slide. Stuff like abandoned Legos all over the floor, rolled eyes aimed at me, jammies until 1 p.m. on summer days, and uh... sand in the house.

I save the firmness and consistency for biggies like holding my hand in parking lots, pummeling a sibling, saying please and thank you, and tone of voice (as in "Do NOT talk to me in that tone of voice, young lady!")

My (childless) brother thinks my children are noisy, ill-behaved, play too much Wii, and probably a few other things he has (wisely) chosen not to share with me. He's probably right about everything. I cannot wait until he has children! I am giddy with the thought of the self-righteous veil of the uninformed being cruelly ripped from his weeping eyes. Ah-HAHAHAHA! (that's wicked Austin Powers/Dr. Evil-like laughter there.)

And to that single woman in church last week who gave me the stink-eye, I say Just. You. Wait.