I believe that there’s too much pressure on parents these days to be that “perfect” parent. You know, the parent who sews all her baby’s clothes by hand, feeds them all organic food, doesn’t let them watch TV, etc. But is any parent really, truly perfect? Probably not. I certainly am not a perfect parent, but I do my very best to give Isla the best chance to strive.
Nonetheless, here are some of my parenting confessions, because let’s get real, it’s hard to be perfect:
- I let Isla watch TV for a least an hour a day. It’s usually in the morning so I can eat my breakfast without her coming up to me and begging like a baby bird for a bite, or around dinner time when I’m trying to cook. It’s not like I let her watch garbage – it’s almost always Sesame Street, which I have several episodes of saved on our PVR. The house could be on fire and she’ll be happily glued to the TV.
The baby bird in full begging-mode.
- Isla is a big fan of Kraft Dinner, so every now and then, I cook some up for both of us. I’ll add some fresh diced tomatoes into hers, and she devours it. I know it’s not healthy and who knows what’s in that orange powder, but there are days where you just don’t feel like making yet another ham & cheese sandwich. Ketchup is also her favourite condiment and if she’s not crazy about whatever protein we’re having for dinner, a squeeze of ketchup will usually solve the problem. Again, not healthy, but if it gets her to eat, I’m okay with it.
- I’m totally the bad cop in the household. I take things away, I do time-outs. I’m a total believer in tough love if it’s in the tough moment. I try not to coddle her either; I ‘m a big believer in letting her “cry it out” and some thing that I have a heart of stone for not allowing her screaming to get to me. (Which it does, but I have to practice will power.) If she trips and falls, I try to wait for her reaction before swooping in for to make sure she’s okay. I’m definitely “that” parent in the store who has a screaming toddler because I won’t let her have something. (Last week I was “that” mom at the park who had to carry a screaming toddler to the car because it was time to go home and someone wanted to keep playing.)
- I trust Campbell (a pit bull) with her 99% of the time. (The 1% is when he’s excited and comes barrelling through the house with no regard for anything, myself included.) I hate the stigma that pit bulls have, but Cam is a total sweetheart and loves his humans, and Isla loves her “Camel.” They really are the bestest of buds!
- Isla has her own Starbucks cup for the cup holder attached to her carseat. I bought her the cheap $1, plastic disposable cup after she was constantly trying to drink my latte, so now she can pretend that she has a coffee too. I’m sure cars that pull up beside me in traffic wonder why the hell a baby has Starbucks, but I promise you, it’s empty.
Really, my points aren’t something that the Ministry of Children needs to be alerted over. Isla has clothes on her back, her own bed to sleep in, plenty of food in her belly, and parents who love her. What more could a kid need? I grow weary of the parenting games, and am OK with doing things that works best for us.
What are your confessions?