Everywhere I look—at least on the Internet—I see perfect parenting. There is proof of perfect parents on parenting blogs, forums, social media threads, anything that shines a light on the brilliance that is a parent who never fails to discipline, never wants to give up, never needs help, and always approaches their responsibility with perfect patience, perfect follow-through, perfect methodology.
On the other side of this spectrum, there is me.
I’ve been called an abomination to motherhood; an inexperienced, ugly mother of future criminals; and a helicopter parent, a permissive parent, a controlling parent, a no-control parent, a too-structured parent, a lackadaisical parent, a cares-too-little parent, and a cares-too-much parent (I should get an award for achieving every polar opposite there is in the parenting world). I’ve been told it’s a shame I have so many children to release into society when I am clearly so ridiculously inept at this motherhood thing. I’ve been told I should suck it up, get off my backside, and do society a favor so my kids are actually decent human beings.
People are astonishingly kind nowadays.
The Perfect Parents Club is a relatively difficult club to join. It doesn’t have any dues, but it does have some requirements, which include but are not limited to the following:
1. Memory loss.
When Perfect Parents say something like, “My kid never did anything like that,” you can rest assured that they are most likely suffering from memory loss. There is not a child on the planet who has not ever thrown some kind of temper tantrum (however wild or mild it may be), because every child has a mind of his or her own, and at some point in time, what a parent wants is going to come into direct conflict with what a child wants. It’s the thrill and magic of being human, of being completely different people with different ideas and different expectations. If a kid never talked back or asserted himself or herself, then there are bigger problems at stake. It means a kid is either afraid to state his or her opinions or they are so effectively brainwashed that they have no opinion at all.
I’d rather take the alternative: a kid who knows who he is and what he wants.
Fortunately, most parents who say “my kid never did that” are usually only suffering from a simple, reversible case of Memory Loss.
2. Denial.
Perfect Parents also must have a good grasp on denial when they read a story about a parent whose daughter refused to wear a certain color because of some inane reason known only to three-year-olds, because this is the exact right time when they must declare, with full conviction: “I would never have allowed my child to do that.” In this case, it’s not that our Perfect Parent has forgotten all the nonsensical things their kid ever did or said; it’s that their memories have been overlaid with a good film of Denial.
They never would have let their kid dance in rain puddles when they were instructed not to dance in rain puddles, they never would have turned the other cheek when their kid snuck an extra carrot or two for snack time, they never would have carried a boneless kid home from a park—they would have made that boneless kid walk.
A healthy sense of denial helps Perfect Parents reframe memories with better memories of kids who did what they were told all the time, never sassed, and never embarrassed them in front of other people. In other words, with a good dose of denial, real kids can become Perfect Kids.
3. A loud voice of judgment.
Perfect Parents like to weigh in on things like discipline and boundaries because they’ve forgotten that every child is different and they believe, since their child was perfect thanks to faulty memories and denial filters, that every kid who doesn’t behave perfectly must be the product of bad parenting. Our morals are failing. Our discipline is lax. Our world is going up in smoke; have you seen the kids of today?
They express this opinion loudly, every opportunity they have, making sure they point back to their perfect parenting abilities. Which leads me to:
4. An inflated sense of parenting abilities.
Perfect Parents mistakenly believe that the reason their children behave or behaved perfectly (at least in their memories) is because of their stellar parenting abilities. Some people have it, some people don’t. Whatever. The ones who complain about their kids’ behavior problems—or who, in my case, make fun of them; even worse!—should step up their parenting game.
Perfect Parents are more than happy to tell other parents how they should raise their kids, because they clearly have it all figured out; they’re doing everything exactly right.
They forget that children are people and that some parts of this behavior game are just the luck of the draw. I have six kids. Four of them argue about everything—and I mean, literally, everything. Two of them do everything we ask. We are the same parents to all. I’ll let you figure that one out on your own, Perfect Parents, but here’s a little hint: It has more to do with the kids than you’d like to admit.
5. Unconsciousness.
One thing that could be said for all of us is that we are all Perfect Parents—when we’re unconscious. I’m a Perfect Parent between the hours of 9 p.m. and 4:15 a.m., otherwise known as the hours I’m sleeping. Unless, of course, one of them wakes up.
Before I had kids, I thought I might have a slim shot at being a Perfect Parent, but my first kid was a creative and gifted one. The second was a compliant social one, the third was hard-headed, and the fourth and fifth were twins. Any notion of perfect parenting flew out the window the first time my creative son, at two, negotiated his first contract for a small business.
And now, so that I will never forget how imperfect my parenting was and is, I keep detailed records.
Perfect Parents are a figment of the imagination. The rest of us—the imperfect ones—can all rest easy.
After all, I’d rather be real than imaginary.
This is an excerpt from Hills I’ll Probably Lie Down On, the fourth book of humor essays in the Crash Test Parents series.
