Backseat Parenting

Backseat Parenting.  You know how irritating backseat drivers are? "This is a 30 mph zone". "You should go around this guy". "I generally go THAT way".

Backseat parenting is the same idea.  You have one parent dealing with the situation.  That parent is trying to get the kids dressed or to do their homework or to eat their breakfast with out killing each other.  The backseat parent is making comments from the couch... where they can't even see what's going on.

The backseat parent is saying "sit down and eat your breakfast" about 3 minutes after you said "sit down and eat your breakfast" and they did.  The backseat parent says "brush your teeth" 30 seconds after your child comes up to you to have you smell his minty breath.

I get it. Sometimes one parent is really tired and just needs to veg on the couch.  And that's fine. I've been that parent. A few times.  But when you choose to be that parent, then stay the hell out of the parenting.  You're making situations worse and frustrating the other parent who is probably already frustrated enough.

Instead, listen to what your partner is saying. When your partner is getting frustrated, then maybe it's time to get off the couch, computer, book, etc.  Make sure you're not repeating what's already been repeated 100 times.  Make sure you're not stepping in and stepping on toes.  Assess the situation. Don't take over.

I've been the backseat parent.  But lately I've been the driver and I'm about to smack that parent in the back upside his head.  So now I know what it's like.  Let's everyone take a little lesson from this, hmm?

Why I Drink

Why I drink

In high school and college I drank because that’s what you’re supposed to do on a Thursday, Friday or Saturday night. And sometimes Wednesday. Or Tuesday. Maybe Monday.  Anyway, everyone else was, it was a blast to get drunk and puke in a random parking lot.  Or a strangers bathroom floor.

Then that kind of wore off.  I would still drink socially, but only a couple glasses of wine.  I drank because it gave me a reason to let go and giggle with the girls, enjoy that feeling of slightly floating.  I didn’t have any desire to reproduce the glory days of college.  At least not on a nightly basis.

As time went by I got married and had children.  Right there are three reasons I drink.  I love my children. They are smart, loving, fun to be around.  But they talk. A lot. Non. Stop.  And they don’t take “uh-huh” for an answer.  In fact, one of my son’s first sentences was “no say ‘uh-huh’ mommy!”

The husband doesn’t talk much. Unless it’s telling the kids what do to and how to do it. And when. Not why. My daughter usually complies.  Every once in a while we have a whopper of a tantrum, but not that often.  My son, however, is much more like his father.  He fights his dad every step of the way.  It’s a constant power struggle.  Husband tells Son to do something. Son says he will after he does something else.  I don’t freaking care which one Son does first, but Husband insists Son does one before the other. And then they argue and fight and Son is left in tears with me mopping up the mess.

I won’t step in to assist the husband because I don’t think he’s in the right. But if I step in to help the son, I’m invalidating the husband’s authority.

So I drink. And deal with the husband telling me that’s why I can’t lose weight. 

So I think I’ll have another drink.