Hi. My name is Darin, and I am a Parent
Hi. My name is Darin, and I am a parent. I am a father…of two. Two girls. Two BE-YOU-TEE-FUL girls. One is in the “terrorist” 2 phase, the other is in the “neglected” 6 phase.
I’ll just leave that there.
In theory, parenting is one of those things that look fun in commercials….until you live behind the scenes. You see those joyful Huggies babies running across the floor, just Happy to be alive. What they don’t show you, is when those babies decide to rip those pampers off when the parents aren’t looking. If I told you all the places my daughter decided to randomly “cop a squat”, let’s just say there is no place safe to lay…or sit…shit, possibly even stand (without shoes on) in my house. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a DAD, almost all the time. Ok…sometimes. Okay…only when they are sleep. Are you judging me yet? That’s cool. I’m too tired to care. But, I love my babies to death, I really do…they just don’t make it easy.
For example. As an adult, I used to be in control. I used to control a lot of things. Simple things. Like the radio. My phone. TV Remote. iPad. My juice. My snacks. My chips. My food. My space. Then, it happened. I woke up one morning, and realized I had lost everything. There were 8 legs in my bed. My TV would instantly tune to Disney. My iPad would be dead. My phone would be playing “Kids Bop” non-stop. My snack drawer—raided. Bottle of Grape Gatorade used to be loaded with “electrolytes”…now it’s just purple backwash. I had accepted the fact that I was no longer an individual…I was a parent. There is never a moment of silence between the “Can I have’s”, “I wanna’s” “That’s mine” and the shrill screams….and IF that moment of silence happens between the hours of 8am-8pm….be afraid….something has happened.
So, that’s why I am here…I am here to talk about what the books sugarcoat, what the TV shows don’t show enough of, and to say what some parents just don’t like to say…outloud…about having kids. Ms. Avery graciously extended her platform so that I or we as parents can speak as more of a collective whole, if you will. I am not here to ask for help, because, frankly, “YOU AINT GOT THE ANSWERS SWAY…YOU AINT GOT THE ANSWERS!” But I do want to share…and I hope you all as readers are here to hear that you are NOT ALONE.
I’ll just leave that there.
In theory, parenting is one of those things that look fun in commercials….until you live behind the scenes. You see those joyful Huggies babies running across the floor, just Happy to be alive. What they don’t show you, is when those babies decide to rip those pampers off when the parents aren’t looking. If I told you all the places my daughter decided to randomly “cop a squat”, let’s just say there is no place safe to lay…or sit…shit, possibly even stand (without shoes on) in my house. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a DAD, almost all the time. Ok…sometimes. Okay…only when they are sleep. Are you judging me yet? That’s cool. I’m too tired to care. But, I love my babies to death, I really do…they just don’t make it easy.
For example. As an adult, I used to be in control. I used to control a lot of things. Simple things. Like the radio. My phone. TV Remote. iPad. My juice. My snacks. My chips. My food. My space. Then, it happened. I woke up one morning, and realized I had lost everything. There were 8 legs in my bed. My TV would instantly tune to Disney. My iPad would be dead. My phone would be playing “Kids Bop” non-stop. My snack drawer—raided. Bottle of Grape Gatorade used to be loaded with “electrolytes”…now it’s just purple backwash. I had accepted the fact that I was no longer an individual…I was a parent. There is never a moment of silence between the “Can I have’s”, “I wanna’s” “That’s mine” and the shrill screams….and IF that moment of silence happens between the hours of 8am-8pm….be afraid….something has happened.
So, that’s why I am here…I am here to talk about what the books sugarcoat, what the TV shows don’t show enough of, and to say what some parents just don’t like to say…outloud…about having kids. Ms. Avery graciously extended her platform so that I or we as parents can speak as more of a collective whole, if you will. I am not here to ask for help, because, frankly, “YOU AINT GOT THE ANSWERS SWAY…YOU AINT GOT THE ANSWERS!” But I do want to share…and I hope you all as readers are here to hear that you are NOT ALONE.