Childfree Confessions, #9 (parenthood)

I don’t think I would like myself as a parent.

I have observed a few parents in action who really seemed to know what they were doing. They are firm yet clearly loving toward their children, and the well-behaved kids respond with adoration. Obviously, there would be times of conflict as there are in any family, but I look at them together and think, “Wow, they were really made for each other!” Mind you, these parents aren’t “perfect,” but they are realistic, pragmatic, loving, and humble.

I wish this were the norm. I encounter plenty of people who are bad parents, but it seems that the largest proportion of parents (in the circles in which I run, at least) are just “ok” parents. They aren’t abusing their kids, but -- perhaps in an attempt to be “perfect” -- they might be overly permissive, indulgent, or weak-willed, raising narcissistic children who have too few manners and little self-control. Or at best, they are run-of-the-mill parents raising more run-of-the-mill children.

I have been told, despite my protests, that I would be a great mother. And though I protested, upon reflection it occurred to me that I probably would be just as good a parent as most everyone else… read: mediocre. I am certain I would not be one of the few excellent parents I admire. In fact, I would probably be a lot like my mother was: impatient, frustrated, angry, yelling a lot (I’m sure we kids gave her plenty reason for this). I would probably make up for it by doing an adequate job most of the time, but as a perfectionist, that is not good enough for me. I would not want to be that person.