Parental Disclaimer*

When blogging, people tend to discuss a vast array of interesting topics, and there are a whole lot of parents out there that do an amazing job of blogging about their children, with perfect parenting ideas and general "I'm really good at parenting, so let me help you." type of shit.


Let me clear all this up for you, because I know you are wondering if I'm going to give you some good advice. No, I'm not ... I know absolutely nothing about being a perfect parent, on the contrary, I am probably the worst person to get advice from. Well ... let me think, maybe not the worst, I don't beat my children, so maybe I'm alright after all.


The thing is, I'm a good parent to MY children. I kinda like them and think they are really cool little humans, that share in my humor and my taste in music, most times. We don't argue all that much, and to be 'stuck in the middle' together in this whole worldly breakdown, hasn't been bad at all. Sure, we have had a bump or two but it's working, for us, and I'm gonna tell you why.


The first few days that this happened, I was all keened up and ready to take on this 'perfect parent' thing, becoming a teacher to a nine and six year old, making a color coded schedule, that we could live by- hour by hour. I got all the homework packets from the school and tackled it immediately, thinking to myself "Wow, I'm Rad, I can do this."


My kids loved it, and four days in, I realized we needed to adjust the times a little, so I made a NEW color coded schedule and started another day with a fervor. That's when it hit me. Fucking Fractions. What the hell? My son's homework had surpassed my knowledge, or selective memory, and I had no idea how to help a third grader, doing forth grade math. Yep, that's right. I'm stupid.


So I turned on my record player, slapped on some vinyl, and we danced around the room for a bit. Then we painted for another half hour, and I broke down and made a batch of chocolate chip cookies with my daughter, while my son played the drums downstairs.


It was a big wake up call ... that if this whole pandemic thing lasts as long as they say it's gonna, my children are gonna be as dumb as I felt, unless I broke down and bent, a little. So I made a NEW schedule, with the times adjusted a touch more- because damn, it feels good to sleep in till 8:30.


This new scheduled reality fits our family much better. There is a shit-ton of art, which I'm damn good at, lots of discussions about why the Beatles White Album is perfection in every way, and there is baking and gardening, nature walks and bird watching. There is bike riding, comic book reading, and hitting of drums, guitars and piano keys. We sing, and we dance without moving our arms. There is Lego building, cartoon watching, and I finally caved and let them use those devil worshiping iPads for stop animation movie making. (*here is a side note- I am adamant about iPads, I don't like them and I don't believe that they work within my children's upbringing. We talk. We laugh, We look at each other and tell bad jokes. I have limited iPad use to one day a week for a few hours, and have a "no-way, you can't touch my phone." type of thing that was established a long time ago, and they don't know any different.)


I said a big fuck you to fractions and think that all you wonderful teachers out there, will get back to teaching someday, and can take over my kids brains just wonderfully. But for now, I'm gonna do what I do and not feel guilty because it's not perfect. So don't copy me, do what YOU do, and let's stop feeling so guilty about it.


I have to go, time to change the record and see how long we can stand on our heads without passing out ... Sending love!

~Tommie






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