I mean, before a couple days ago I would not put myself in that camp, until a friend told me about this awesome website, assholeparents.com. Their definition is as follows:
“Have you ever suggested your child eat a broken granola bar? Have you ever barred your child from playing with power tools? Have you ever served your child a drink from the pink cup when they wanted blue? Then you, too, might be an asshole parent.”
As a parent of a toddler, I found so much comfort and solidarity in this compilation of pictures of little humans in the throes of meltdown captioned with a #assholeparents hashtag and a sentence describing the insane context for these fits, which only a parent would believe. I encourage any parent to check it out. For those of you who are not a fan of vulgar language, try to overlook the title, it’s worth it.
I had my own asshole parent moment a couple nights ago when I bought my child green tic-tacs at the grocery checkout like he enthusiastically requested, only for him to discover a few minutes later in the car that he really wanted orange tic-tacs. Can you believe I wouldn’t stop at another store for orange tic-tacs?:
This is such a trying part of parenting. It takes everything in me not to scream “STOP IT!” at the top of my lungs when we’re 15 minutes into a blow out tantrum but I just do my best to breathe deep until the storm passes. Like most toddlers, my son is a sweet, creative, smart and loving little person about 85% of the time, so I guess we have to take the bad with the good. I’m not easy to love all the time, either.
Would you reclassify yourself as an asshole parent?