I think a lot of us come into parenting thinking we have to be perfect. Or at least different from who we are. We’re supposed to be super-patient, strongly-bonded, overflowing with milk and kisses, morally unassailable, fascinated by truly dreadful children’s music, uninterested in anything that isn’t purely enriching, without tattoos or scars or baggage, and simply delighted to do anything that causes joy in little hearts, no matter how boring, odious, anxiety-inducing, or sanitized it is.
Well, hell. That’s just not true.
If kids needed a beatific, generic parent we’d hold auditions for a Ma Ingalls doppleganger and then send all of our children off to her to raise. Your kids need you. Not just in your role as parent, but for yourself. Little (and big) weirdnesses and all. I could launch into some big stories about how weird my parents are and how funny that is and how endearing. Or I could tell you about how my older son was telling me genetics have nothing to do with personality and I looked at him and said, “YOU’RE EXACTLY LIKE ME” and he laughed because he knows it’s true, even down to our stress behaviors. But you have those same stories about your parents and your kids are going to have those same stories about you.
You are great. And part of what makes you a good parent is that you’re still yourself. You stand for something. You’re interested in things. You’re working through it. And all those thoughts and all that process helps you be a person your kids can depend on, to love them and to help guide them through the process of growing up and being a human. Not a cardboard perfect parent (who won’t have any sympathy when they screw up). Your learning to be human helps them learn to be human.