I’m not a big resolution maker. I prefer to make goals and re-adjust throughout the year instead of putting lofty expectations on an entire year at the beginning only to have them fall apart three weeks in.
However, I was recently contemplating what kind of resolutions parents would make if they could. I mean, sure with the get healthy blah blah blah, but what are the goals we would really set if, you know, we weren’t afraid of being labeled horrible parents?
In the new year, I’m going to buy myself new underwear. I don’t want to spend all my money on the kid and never, ever have anything left over for me or anything I
want need. I want need a new bra, damn it! (And, I really don’t think that this is too much to ask, do you?)
Look, it doesn’t have to be Caillou. It can be any kid channel cartoon where the voice grates on your nerves. (Caillou just happens to be at number one in this house, with a close second of Sponge Bob.) Whatever it is, it’s not going to be on the television while I’m in the room or in close proximity to the room. Any show that makes me want to claw at the walls or jab a sharp instrument into my eardrum is out in the new year. The end.
No, I don’t want to listen to Radio Disney. Or KidzBop #3,422. No.
When I drive, I want to listen to NPR or something on my podcast list that has adult voices and makes me feel better about myself. You know, like I’m a grown up who has control over my life.
I’m tired of sharing my cookies. And my french fries. And my entrée at a restaurant (that always seems to be better than yours no matter what you order). I want to eat my own bread and not have slimy kid germs in my soup. I want to eat a doughnut in the new year without having to hide in the closet to do it. Nothing to see here, move along. Those crumbs are in your imagination.
I want to finish one conversation this year (ONE!) without hearing, “Mom! Mom! MOM!” at least 14 times during it. I understand that having one uninterrupted conversation as a parent is a lofty goal, but I’m going for it in the new year.
Everything in life doesn’t need a detailed discussion. Really, it doesn’t. So, in the new year, I will ignore you once you’ve reach the fifth question in a row. (That number will be bumped down to two if the question is just “But, why?” repeated.) And, I think that is an extremely generous amount.
If you have a super talker kid in your house, then you get this secret resolution. There are days where I text my girlfriends “MY KID DOES NOT SHUT UP” as just a last-ditch effort to save my own sanity. This year, I’m just going to scream out those voices in my head instead of holding it in. Won’t it be awesome?
I don’t understand how adding one child can exponentially increase your laundry by a factor of 10, but I’m over living in non-stop laundry hell. If you need your laundry done more than once per week, you’re going to have to send it out (and pay for it) yourself. Or, talk your grandma into doing it.
This year, the answer to “Can I use your [insert tech gadget]?” will be, “NO.” I worked hard for these and I’m tired of waiting my turn for them. Get a damn job if you want a tablet all to yourself.
If I’m in the bathroom, I don’t need an audience. I don’t need to discuss my body parts or why they are different from your body parts. I don’t need to be watched by you, or the cat, or The Husband. (I’ve been doing this for a while, so I got this.) What I do want is 10 FREAKING MINUTES ALONE IN THE BATHROOM WHERE I CAN WORRY ABOUT ME.
And, absolutely no talking or meowing at me through the door–unless there is blood involved and there are no other adults to take charge.
Feeling guilty is, well, exhausting and, quite frankly, I’m over it. I’m over feeling like I’m never enough, what I say is never good enough, and how I parent is never good enough. This year, I’m letting it go.
I mean, you know, if these were real resolutions.
What parenting resolutions would you make if you could?