I’ve been living a lie. Ok, “lie” is a strong word. I have been living a lie by omission.
I really like Papa Murphy’s Pizza. (This blog is not sponsored by Papa Murphy’s)
We, as parents, have days that are tough. Super tough… and your house looks like this:
Those days where you think, “Yup. That’s it, taking them to the farmer’s market, and leaving them.” Then, you realize that to get them to the farmer’s market, you would have to get them dressed enough to make them appealing to a new family that wouldn’t do something so awful as abandon them at a farmer’s market. Plus, you’d have to find Julia’s other shoe. Julia, where is your shoe? Not the one on your foot. THE OTHER ONE. Y’know, forget it. I’ll keep them. It would be too much trouble, and they know their last name, so they’d find their way home. Then there would be charges, and reports, and a state appointed advocate.
Anyhow, we have those days. Or maybe not a whole day, just a set of moments that culminate there, in a crescendo of bad-parenting. My mom had a story about my sister and me growing up; where, as the legend goes, dad came into the house to find her perched on the back of the sofa. It was the only place in the house that neither of us could reach her. It’s charming, and while I always thought it was funny, I never truly understood until I tried to be a stay at home dad for four days straight. I could never do what stay at home moms do. I say that without a shred of doubt. I am not strong enough, and I lack the force of will to prevent my kids from turning into monsters.
So, on those days, I stop at Papa Murphy’s. Those craftspeople of white flour, non-organic vegetables, cured meats, and magical paper plates. Paper plates that don’t burn at 425 degrees in the oven.
Certainly, I would prefer to feed my family a macadamia crusted rainbow trout, sauteed in coconut oil, stuffed with red curry rice. But, that’s not always an option. Sometimes you need a night (or weekend) where you say, “Ok, we’re going to make it through tonight, and we’re all going to regroup and try this again tomorrow.”
I think it makes you a better parent, frankly. Not the part where you don’t like your kids all the time, but the fact that you teach them coping skills, and that not everything is perfect, all the time.