Whatever you think parenting looks like, lower the bar by several notches right now. You know that lady you went to high school with whose Instagram feed looks like the cover of a parenting magazine? She’s a liar. She’s probably one mental break away from getting roped into a pyramid scheme, and her pristine living room only looked that way for eight minutes. What you see on social media isn’t real. That may be obvious, but it bears repeating. Behind all the snapshots of color-coordinated, clean outfits and dreamy trips to the park are tantrums, multiple changes of clothes and Goldfish ground into the carpet. Instagram makes parenting look much prettier than it is.
Note that we said prettier, not more beautiful. Parenting is, in many ways, a mess. It’s ugly. You will find yourself in Trader Joe’s wearing a T-shirt with dried spit-up dripped down the back. Miraculously, you won’t care that much. That’s what happens when you’re up all night trying to get a tiny, screaming dictator to tell you what they want because the stuff you read in the stack of parenting books on your dresser isn’t doing jack. Does that sound pretty? Hell no! But as your exhausted, desperate tears mix with theirs, something magical happens: They finally fall asleep. You look at their tiny, peaceful face and realize, “I did that. I’m doing this. We’re doing this.”
That’s bonding, and it’s born from the ashes of the ugliest parenting moments. The process isn’t pretty, but the outcome is beautiful.