I'm sorry I said it. I suck. I did the thing no parent should do to another parent. I compared my life to yours and claimed mine as harder.
Parenting

Confession Time: I Went “There” as a Parent

I'm sorry I said it. I suck. I did the thing no parent should do to another parent. I compared my life to yours and claimed mine as harder.

By Heather Sadlemire

I have a confession to make. I did something that I said I’d never do. No, I’m not talking about that time I spent months saying I wouldn’t give my newborn a pacifier, only to stuff one right in my daughter’s crying gobhole two hours after we got home from the hospital. Oh. And, ok, no, I’m also not talking about how we frequent drive-thrus so much that my daughter has recently asked why Wendy’s doesn’t tell you to pull up to a second window to get your food.

Neither of those things.

We were recently at the wedding of a very close friend. We were seated at a table full of very close friends, all of them parents of children slightly older than our 2.5-year-old. In this circle of friends, we are the newbs. But, wait! There was a new couple seated at the table. An old roommate of the groom and his wife.

Inevitably, we all began sharing horror stories. That time our daughter pointed to random people in Target, announcing (or questioning) whether they had a penis or a vagina. Or, how one couple had BOTH OF THEIR MOTHERS currently babysitting, yet neither of them had been able to wrangle their 3-year-old-son into bed as of 9:30 p.m. (And why are grandmas so damn liberal with rules? Huh?!) The new couple mentioned that they had a 10-month-old son at home.

And this is where my confession comes in.

I did it. I said it.

“Only 10 months, huh? Just you wait. Enjoy it while you can!”

Cringe.

Caught up in the laughter and the warmth of my fourth vodka cranberry, I momentarily forgot just how awful all stages of parenting can truly be. Sure, my daughter sasses me with some comebacks reserved for an Amy Schumer monologue, but she also doesn’t shit her pants in public anymore (well, almost never). Yes, she may currently subsist on instant mac & cheese and lollipops, but if we get stuck in traffic or a line at Sephora, I can dig through my purse and toss her a bag of goldfish to keep her happy and quiet.

Yes, she may currently subsist on instant mac & cheese and lollipops, but if we get stuck in traffic or a line at Sephora, I can dig through my purse and toss her a bag of goldfish to keep her happy and quiet.

I no longer have to worry about baby-proofing every room. I mean, if she shoves Rapunzel’s foot in an electrical outlet, she’ll learn, right? If she slips while running naked across the hardwoods, maybe she’ll remember why I told her to stop running (and put some damn clothes on) in the first place. I’m just far enough away from that not-quite-one stage that I forgot how many times I wished that she was just a little bit older so that I could pee by myself/shower alone/eat dinner at a reasonable time/not live and die by the clock. (Ha! Talk about naïve!)

I’m just far enough away from that not-quite-one stage that I forgot how many times I wished that she were just a little bit older so that I could pee by myself/shower alone/eat dinner at a reasonable time/not live and die by the clock. (Ha! Talk about naïve!)

So, to those parents – my sincerest apologies. I suck. Sometimes, being the parent of a toddler sucks. Sometimes, being the parent of a 10-month-old sucks. We’re all just out here, doing our best and crying at our worst. And my worst is not any worse than your worst. Trust me. And, hey. At least your little guy still has that fresh, clean, baby smell. My daughter has a perpetual stank of powdered cheese and spoiled yogurt following her person. So, at least there’s that.

And, hey. At least your little guy still has that fresh, clean baby smell. My daughter has a perpetual stank of powdered cheese and spoiled yogurt following her person. So, at least there’s that.

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About the Author

Heather is a marketing director and NY native (of the Upstate variety) who has to cover the last few pages of a good book with her hands so that she doesn’t skim ahead and ruin the ending. In between scouring the clearance racks at Target and stalking Mindy Kaling’s Twitter feed, she performs Disney numbers for her daughter (a toddler who can’t object) and husband (who knew what he was getting into when he put a ring on it.) Follow her on Twitter. https://twitter.com/HeatherLWheeler