I admit it: I’m damaging my kids for life. And honestly, I’m pretty okay with that.
Let me clarify—I never intended to mess them up. But over time, I’ve realized that I’m probably doing a lot of things wrong. It feels unavoidable; every parent has likely made some mistakes with their children. (Except for my dad. If you’re reading this, Dad, I’m definitely not talking about you. So, when you call to ask what I meant by that, rest assured—it’s true.)
I know I’m falling short, and I’ve come to terms with it. Instead of a college fund, perhaps we should just set aside money for therapy and call it a day.
For example, my youngest has been fed formula. Yes, formula—the stuff that many deem to be straight from the Devil’s milk supply. Sure, it may have been a lifesaver, but it’s still formula.
Both of my kids watch television. I won’t disclose the exact amount, as some might scoff at it, while others may gasp in horror. Let’s just say my older child often sings catchy tunes from his favorite show, and I’m certain those jingles will haunt him for years to come.
I don’t even enjoy TV. I’ve read countless articles about its negative effects on children, and I completely agree. Yet, I still allow them to watch it. At times, I’ve even strapped them into their high chairs, turned on an episode of their favorite show, and hopped into the shower. At least it’s educational PBS, right?
Let’s talk about vegetables. Before becoming a parent, I read all the necessary books. You’re supposed to eat healthy while pregnant, nurse with nutritious foods, and introduce fresh, homegrown veggies to your kids repeatedly. The goal is to raise children who ask for kale at the farmer’s market. I get it. But somewhere around the 14th attempt, I threw in the towel, and the last non-potato vegetable my kids consumed was pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving. Just kidding—they only ate the crust.
As for foreign languages, my children haven’t been exposed to any, aside from the French I picked up in college, which isn’t exactly the most refined dialect. Like many boys, my kids are obsessed with all things on wheels or in the water, so you will often hear them yelling, “Truck!” or “Boat!” That’s the extent of their linguistic prowess.
I’ve devoured every article titled “Parenting: You’re Doing it Wrong.” I know it’s just bait to attract clicks, but I can’t resist learning about the latest research on how I’m failing as a parent. I’ve been both a stay-at-home and working parent, which means my kids are bound to experience a combination of neglect and overindulgence. Sorry, kiddos.
The truth is, I wish I could do better. I read those parenting blogs (usually while my kids are around) and mentally note all the ways I’m messing up. Then I attempt to improve for about 20 minutes. It’s not that I don’t want my kids to watch less TV or eat more veggies. I just can’t seem to manage it. Even with all the guilt weighing on me, I haven’t purchased a single educational toy that’s made from organic kale.
However, if these are the worst things that leave a mark on my children for life, I can live with it. We all make mistakes in parenting, and I hope this is the extent of my failures. When my children call me in 20 years to tell me how I’ve ruined their lives, I hope it’s about the excessive episodes of their favorite show and the endless jingles stuck in their minds.
They can certainly complain about the many ways I’ve failed them. And as they grow up, there will undoubtedly be more instances; that’s unavoidable. I’m not perfect, and neither is anyone else when it comes to parenting.
Yet, there’s one thing I excel at: loving them fiercely. My love for them burns brighter than the sun, and they are my entire world.
So, if too much TV and not enough vegetables are the worst I’ve done, I’m fine with that. They will always know they are loved. And if letting go of some of my worries allows me to love them more freely, I will choose that path every single time.
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Summary
This article discusses the acceptance of parental imperfections and the reality of not adhering to parenting ideals. The author humorously reflects on their parenting choices, from feeding their kids formula to allowing too much screen time, while emphasizing the importance of love and acceptance over perfection. Ultimately, the author embraces their flaws, hoping that these shortcomings will not define their children’s futures.