Do you fake it on Facebook, presenting a carefully-curated version of your life as a parent? I do. I joke about the hard stuff, share the good stuff (although I try not to descend into cliché or brag), but rarely share the dark moments.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad writers like Sarah Tuttle-Singer and Erin Zammett Ruddy are telling the truth about the way most of us really parent, which is imperfectly, and refusing to present a sanitized version of life with kids. I nod in recognition as I read along, feeling better that my kids aren’t the only ones who act bratty sometimes and that other mothers feel they don’t measure up to the endlessly-involved ideal I see on Pinterest.
But as for me, I can’t always keep it that real. You know that advice to fake it until you make it? Until I have this parenting thing figured out (read: never), a little editing is required.
I am someone who has walked through life generally feeling capable. I did well in school and have been successful in my career. The code wasn’t that hard to crack: hard work + being nice = positive results you can measure. Then I had kids.
Nothing has shaken my confidence more than the stubborn way in which my kids refuse to be a project I can get an A+ on. I study up, I work hard and I try to be consistent but those little buggers continue to, well, be kids. Just when one grows out of a worrisome phase, the other starts doing something that sends me burrowing through the parenting books.
