Tag: motherhood

Terrible twos. Troublesome threes. Preteen drama.
It seems like we’ve come up with a phrase to describe how kids can be a handful at every stage of life. Don’t worry—there are terms for us adult “kids” too.

I won’t lie—sometimes kids really can drive you up the wall. They’re not little angels 24/7, but hey, they’re our kids, so we give them a pass (most of the time).

Looking back at my own childhood, I have to admit—I probably deserved a few of those punishments I got. I said my share of “no’s” and talked back more times than I can count. It starts with “don’t put that in your mouth,” “don’t stick your finger there,” “hurry up and get dressed,” “finish your food,” “go to bed!” Then, as they get older, it escalates to: “don’t do drugs,” “don’t get pregnant,” “don’t take the car without asking!”

Sometimes it feels like all we do as parents is tell our kids what not to do.

It’s hard—I get it. Often, the only time we jump into “parent mode” is when something’s going wrong. We’re trained to intervene mid-misbehavior in hopes of correcting it. But when our kids are behaving? We breathe a sigh of relief, quietly enjoy the peace, and move on to the next crisis.

Especially when you have more than one kid, it’s tempting to think, “They’re quiet? Thank goodness. Let me just soak this in.” Until the next mess explodes in the living room.

That old-school mindset? Yeah, I fall into it too.

Then the blame game begins. I catch myself blaming my own parents for how they raised me—too much discipline, not enough praise, not enough explaining. But here I am today, still trying to figure it out myself, defaulting to the same “bad cop” routine I once resented.

Sometimes I wonder if our kids are really trying their best. Remember Dennis the Menace? He caused chaos, sure—but half the time, he was just trying to help or satisfy his curiosity.

As parents, we’re trying our best too—just trying to raise kind, respectful, capable human beings. It’s inevitable we’ll hand out some consequences. But I hope we don’t forget to balance discipline with encouragement. To sit down, talk with our kids, explain things, and remind them: One mistake doesn’t define you. You’re good enough to grow beyond it.

And for those of us who are now grown-up kids?
Let’s also take a moment to forgive. Our parents weren’t perfect, and neither are we. Some childhood wounds are deep—and if that’s the case, talking to a therapist might be the best path forward. But for the smaller stuff, maybe it’s time to let it go.

Remember the good times. The laughter. The lessons. The moments of grace. All of it shaped us into who we are today. And now we get to choose how we parent our kids—and how we relate to our parents.

No one said it would be easy. But maybe that’s the beauty of it—we’re all just learning together.

As a parent, we carry a big responsibility—to raise our kids right.

To be honest, I’m still figuring it out. Maybe parenting isn’t something you master in a year or two. Maybe it’s a lifelong process of doing your best, learning as you go, and praying you don’t mess it up too badly.

Before I had kids, life was simple. Even with a disability, things were flexible. I didn’t need much. I’ve always been kind of a minimalist—content with the basics. But everything changed the moment I became a parent. Suddenly, I wanted to provide. Provide a good home. A good education. A good life. Hopefully you can relate.

There’s no clear manual for life after kids. Sure, there are endless parenting books, podcasts, and “expert” tips—but none of them truly prepare you. Sometimes I find myself looking back at old family sitcoms for inspiration—Full House, Family Matters—you know, the classics. Sprinkle in some advice from the professionals, and here’s what I’ve come to believe:

The most important thing you can do as a parent is to be present.

Kids aren’t born into this world asking for the latest gadget, a five-bedroom home, or organic quinoa bowls. They just want love, comfort, and connection. It’s us parents who put the pressure on ourselves—to move to the right neighborhood, get them into the best schools, provide the “perfect” childhood.

But it’s not our kids asking for that. It’s us trying to do our best—and that’s beautiful. But let’s remember: it’s a gift to provide, not a burden. Kids are a blessing, and we have the privilege of being their guide.

At the end of the day, they just want us:
To hug them.
Celebrate their birthdays.
Read them bedtime stories.
Hold their hand when they’re scared.
Be there when they score the winning goal (or miss it entirely).

Kids are simple. It’s us adults who complicate things.

Sure, they talk back. They make messes. They sometimes make you want to pull your hair out—but hey, that’s another blog post for another day (maybe tomorrow).

Today, I just want to reflect on the parent-child connection.

Danny Tanner and Carl Winslow weren’t perfect dads, but they showed up. They were present. And that mattered. It mattered so much that even the neighbor kids—Kimmy Gibbler and Steve Urkel—wanted to hang out at their houses. That’s the power of presence.

I’m not pretending I’ve got this all figured out. But I know one thing for sure: I can’t win the game of parenthood if I’m not even on the court.

So, for every tired parent out there reading this: stay on the court. Show up, even when you’re not sure how to play the next move. Be the best version of yourself in the moment—not trapped in the past or worried about the future. Just here. Now. Present.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.