Yet Another Parenting Blog

The goings on of one more (mostly!) ordinary family

No, I won’t “cherish these moments.”

Once again, it’s been a while since I’ve blogged. Some stuff has changed; youngest child is now at school, and I got myself a part-time term-time job that fitted in around the children’s school hours.

Something I have realised about parenthood over the past few years, is that, especially in the age of social media and everyone’s ability to share their experiences far and wide, is that there seems to be this idea that those who have long forgotten the slog of parenting younger children have the right to suggest to those still in the mire that they should “cherish these moments.”

Well, you know what? No. I won’t cherish these moments. Okay, there are some moments which are sweet, funny, worth remembering. But for the most part, it’s a damn hard slog with no end in sight, and that can wear even the most hardened parent down on occasion.

I also refuse to be made to feel like I’m a bad parent for not making the most of parenting a nine and five year old. They are demanding. They require constant supervision – still – and I anticipate this not changing for a while yet. Although the eldest is becoming more independent, he can’t be left alone yet and certainly cannot be left responsible for his younger brother. I wouldn’t expect him to take on that level of responsibility anyway.

Parenting doesn’t get easier the older they get. You might get a bit more sleep – or maybe you won’t – than when they were babies, but the challenges are still there. They just change. Whether it’s trying to wrangle an iPad from their hands so as not to have them turn into zombies (I’m unpopular with the children on most days, because I refuse to allow them all day, every day iPad access), get them into bed at a reasonable hour, or get them to eat some vegetables (okay, usually the boys are pretty good at that last one, but even then, it’s still a battle on occasion), it constantly feels like it’s my husband and I against them. I realise I could make life easier for myself by allowing them free reign on the iMac/Switch/iPad, or stop nagging them to tidy their room, or refuse to ask them to do various chores to help out the household, but that won’t help them grow up into well-rounded adults that aren’t selfish gits.

I also refuse to cherish the moments when I’m fed up of nagging youngest to use the loo to find he’s pissed himself again anyway – seriously, there is no reason for this other than, what I can gather, is sheer laziness?

The washing pile doesn’t get smaller, it only grows. Exponentially.

It’s like the amount of shit you have in your hallway. That grows exponentially, too. Coats and shoes just get bigger, and are joined by the likes of school bags and cycle helmets – yep, you guessed it, I make them wear those, too.

You find yourself fighting battles you didn’t know existed. No, you are NOT playing Fortnite. I don’t care how many of your friends are playing it – who, incidentally, are far too young to be playing it – you are not playing it. And you are also not going round to their houses so you can have unlimited, unrestricted internet access, either. Not on my watch. I don’t care how much that may make you hate me, but you’ll thank me for it one day. Likewise when I won’t let you take two packets of crisps and two chocolate bars in your packed lunch in place of broccoli florets, carrot sticks and hummus.

See, here’s the thing. Maybe there would be more moments to cherish if I wasn’t so intent on keeping our kids safe and well. But I’d rather buckle in for the hard, long ride now so they don’t grow up to be dicks.

That doesn’t mean that I’m not allowed to vent about how bloody hard it is, though.

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