Confession Is Good for the Soul

I've spent the better part of the last decade attending Presbyterian churches. One of their main liturgical elements in the public confession of sin (usually through a prayer that everyone reads together) and the assurance of pardon. I miss this aspect of worship at our current church. So instead, I shall confess my sins to the internet.

Today, I confess that I have judged parents rather harshly over the years. I wondered, "Why aren't they ever on time? Why are they always flaking out on plans? Why is that baby crying? Why is that toddler throwing a tantrum?" I also confess that I've thought parents were boring. They become obsessed with talking about their kids and the minutiae of child rearing, and I found it difficult to relate except by telling stories about my little brother. 

I should have realized that some day I'd eat my words, just like I did about never owning a mini van...

I get it now. Parents talk about their kids because, to them, their children are very interesting! For heaven's sake, DF and I were swapping baby fart stories with another set of new parents after Sunday school this morning without a hint of irony! 

Parents aren't on time because kids don't follow your schedule. I think sometimes they conspire to disrupt it, actually. We were patting ourselves on the back last week for getting to church on time, but then I remembered that we hadn't even attempted to go for the previous three weeks because the babies' eating schedules weren't syncing up with when we'd need to leave. And going to church is literally the only time we attempt to take them anywhere that is not a doctor's appointment.

Parents "flake out" on plans because, usually, the kids take priority over whatever else was scheduled. It's not because parents suddenly decided all other adults are lame and they're just going to sit at home and stare at the baby. Rather, it might be a sanity-preserving tactic not to keep the baby up past his bedtime, or they couldn't find a babysitter, or they are just too freaking exhausted to put on something other than sweat pants and haul themselves out the door.

As for toddlers and their tantrums, I have no first-hand experience yet but I figured I should just preemptively apologize for any past judgments there. I've already seen my infants have total meltdowns for no apparent reason. Toddlerhood is sure to be a wild ride.

File under: NaBloPoMo Day 22