“No matter how calmly you try to referee, parenting will eventually produce bizarre behavior, and I’m not talking about the kids. Their behavior is always normal.” -Bill Cosby

“You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.”-Kahlil Gibran

Warning: Bad parenting ahead.

Here’s some backstory, just so you know how I was feeling when this all went down. I’ve been solo-parenting for the past couple of days, with my daughters not necessarily making it easy. On top of that, I had Judo training that left me even more bashed than it usually does. I got put to work with a white belt who used to train with us, but hasn’t done any training at all in over a year. That pretty much says it all. In fact, I’m pretty sure that training with white belts is its own special kind of hell. Like if you’re a terrible person, you go down to the fifth circle of hell and instead of demons there’s about a thousand Judo white belts packed into a tiny room who spend eternity dumping you at terrible angles with horribly timed throws. That was last night. I get home, the two girls are STILL up even though it’s going on 10p.m.!  They have school in the morning and I now know the morning might be a bitch-fest because they’re tired.

Now I’m beat up and in pain, it’s getting late, and I’m crabby.

Cue up the bad parenting: So the morning rolls around, right? Going smoothly until we hit the breakfast table. The girls are at the table eating. Somehow the topic gets on the 9yr. olds upcoming camping trip. She asks if I can go, to which I reply that I can’t because I’ve got a project due that I’m behind on (which is true) and I’ve got to work. Well fuck-a-doodle-doo if this conversation doesn’t descend into a big tear-fest about how I promised I was going to go on the last school camp and didn’t (also because I had to work). At this point, I’m pretty annoyed because I do a lot of cool stuff with my daughters. I’m usually there after school, insanely patient and affectionate. I’m there for homework, losing sleep to help console them through nightmares, listening to the giant sucking sound of earnings leaving my wallet. I work my ass-off to make money when I’m not looking after them. So the last thing I want thrown my way this morning is how I’m deadbeat-promise-breaker dad who doesn’t live up to anything with his kids. I wasn’t having an iota of it. So I’m trying to explain the concept of how we need to work to make money for those occasional necessities like, I don’t know, FOOD AND SHELTER. Meanwhile the 5yr old is milling about the table aggravating the 9yr old further by standing right in her sisters personal space even though she’s heard the heated discussion and should be sitting down and eating. So I ask the 5yr old 3 times nicely, to sit down and have her breakfast because there’s not much time before school. 3 times! I swear she is moving slower than a tortoise in a tar pit.

So that’s when galaxies collide.

Next thing you know I feel like I’m in a bad Michael Bay movie because there’s this plastic plate flying across the kitchen, and skipping off the floor at her feet. The guy that’s throwing it looks like me. Like, a LOT like me, but there’s no way it could be me. Except it was me. The girls, they look dejected. Not scared (because the plate didn’t even come close to them), but just totally let down. The 5yr old goes to the table and starts eating quietly. The 9yr old has huge tears in her eyes, and I feel beyond terrible. You can’t even describe it. Like I’ve just been frollicking through the Black Forest kicking kittens in the ass with Hitler.

It’s times like that that’ll certainly make you question your parenting skill set. I don’t know about you but it’s times like those that you wonder ‘What exactly is the point of trying to be a great parent?’ Is it because it’ll make them great people in the future? Horseshit. There’s no guarantees on that one and I’ve know more than my fair share of people whos parents went to great lengths to give them everything and they still turned out fucked up or just couldn’t get it together.

Since her divorce my sis has been raising her three kids on her own. She’s just an amazing mom, an amazing woman and I don’t know how she does it while holding down a full time job. She works her ass off for those kids and they are great kids, my niece and nephews. Their father, he doesn’t have much to do with them anymore, isn’t in the picture all that much. My sis, she breaks her ass for these kids and here’s the kicker: These kids still think their dad is the most amazing guy. Dude is hardly around, my sis is putting in the long hours, doing the school runs, making sure they have clothing, shelter, food, unconditional love. The whole 9. And the dad STILL carries the same amount of weight as her in the kids minds.

I have mornings like this one where I add that up with my sisters situation and you’re kind of like ‘What’s it all for?’ Is the point to be a mostly good parent but a bit of shitty one every now and then? Because if you grant your kids everything then they grow up not understanding the value of anything least of all hard work. Grant them nothing and chances are they’ll grow up just not feeling valued, trying to overcompensate for that vacuum for a long time.

There days where you do get extremely aggravated. As a parent you feel like you are fully committed to being the best you can be for these little people and some days you’re getting straight garbage in return. You realize that hey, not only are these little people not taking into consideration anything I am putting forth for them in this moment, they literally do not give a shit. They’re so wrapped up in -insert name of random toy/person/pony/cartoon character here – that they do not give a crap. I could be standing here sweating my ass off  trying to defuse a block of Semtex and this kid would still be warbling on about Ben 10 or Mushi Monsters. And when you’re earnestly trying to put forth some life lessons that might help them in the future, that can be REALLY frustrating. You end up thinking “Whoa. This kid is just not hearing a word I’m saying. Why am I bothering? I might as well just sit down, drink bourbon and smoke Kool Menthols while watching some Ben 10 with them. Shit is same same.”

So I guess the point is to just do the best you can in any given moment, and sometimes that moment means coming up short. They do vex you. They test you constantly, like Vietcong checking the perimeter wire. You get mad and rage and then you settle down and realize later that they’re just little people and that’s how they operate at this age and level. You realize that it is totally unreasonable to expect anything far beyond that. Certainly not to expect them to be rational and thinking people. I mean, seriously, a lot of  adults I know are totally irrational and immature people prone to histrionics. And those fools are grown. How can  you expect anything more from your children? Most of the adults on this planet aren’t functioning and yet we often expect it of our children. Seen from that angle it makes the kids look like the only people who really have their shit together.

Usually once you realize that again you feel like rubbish; like you’re a totally terrible parent for going bananas, or going on a rant, or getting really angry. Maybe deep down you know that’s not true but is still doesn’t lessen the crappy feeling you temporarily have in your heart because the last thing your kids saw before they went to bed or out the door to school was you pissed off at them. And as a parent that’s something I try to avoid at all costs because in my heart I don’t want that to be the last thing they associate me with if something were to happen.

Never leave angry.

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