Parenting for introverts
Hi!
I’m a total weirdo loner introvert. With no external or internal prodding, I’d spend my whole fucking day surfing the internet, eating chocolate and drinking tea. In the evening, after a long hard day of surfing the internet, I’d watch TV to relax.
However, I’m not just a total weirdo loner. I’m also a mom (aww).
I have two wonderful, funny, vivacious, precocious, adorable daughters, ages 4 and 1. I love them more than anything ever, and spend much of my weirdo loner time thinking about them and looking at pictures of them and missing their gorgeous little faces and wishing I could be squishing them right now.
They are also total weirdos, though, because they are seriously obsessed with me and want to be with me constantly. And they don’t just want to sit together on the couch and surf the internet like normal people. No, the four year old wants to “play,” whatever the fuck that means, or “play chase,” which is a euphemism for the longest and most intense workout of your life, or “learn to cook,” which involves sprinkling flour all over every surface of the house while shouting commands for me to fetch things. The toddler, meanwhile, just wants to drag me by the hand around the front yard while she points at things and says “Ba!” She only lets go when she suddenly decides to run full speed downhill on the concrete driveway, screaming “Whee!” while I have to chase her and somehow spot her from behind while having a nonstop heart attack.
As a result, when I am with them, I spend much of my time wishing I could just be alone, in front of my computer, surfing the internet and eating chocolate. I can do this while fully realizing that they will only be little and want to spend time with me for about two seconds of their lives, in the grand scheme of things, and I’m supposed to be squeezing the joy and childlike innocence out of every moment of their ephemeral childhood.
Finally, I am also a woman, so every little thing I do is hounded by crushing guilt and second guessing all my life choices.
So how do I balance the conflicting demands of being a total weirdo loner while also being a present, nurturing, supportive mother who doesn’t want to completely miss her kids’ cute phase, while also trying to minimize the guilt that accompanies my every move?
The key is in turning most of my life into an evasive maneuver, while also technically parenting. Here are some time honored techniques I’ve perfected in order to balance the competing demands on my time.
- Take the longest shits ever. Taking a shit is socially acceptable, even for a mom. If you have a supportive spouse, make the most of this golden opportunity. A 30 minute shit will cleanse your bowels and mind, and will give you plenty of time to play a game of Two Dots, read 3 clickbait NYT articles about Donald Trump’s neighbor’s colonoscopy, and feel jealous of 7 former classmates posting carefree bikini photos on Facebook. You have to make some compromises here, as your toddler will certainly check on you multiple times and then try to help you wipe. As long as your phone doesn’t end up floating among the turds in the toilet bowl, it’s still a win. Pro tip — be prepared for your spouse to also start taking obscenely long shits. Give him 5 minutes of peace before sending the toddler in to help him wipe. You’re a mother, not Mother Theresa. Pro tip 2 — keep plenty of Preparation H in the house.
2. Cook dinner every goddamn night. Do this for years, until your spouse has no idea how to feed himself and has to ask you how to cook noodles. Talk incessantly about how much work it is to cook every night and what a sacrifice you are making for your family. If anyone is around while you’re cooking, stomp around the kitchen busily, banging pots and pans and sighing loudly. Insist that your spouse keep the kids in check and out of the kitchen while you’re making their goddamn dinner. Then make noodles for dinner almost every night. Because your spouse has no idea how long this actually takes, you get 20 minutes to stare at your phone in blissful peace and quiet while the water boils. Pro Tip — insist that your spouse clean up every night, since you cooked. #feminism
3. When forced to entertain the kids alone, play hide and seek whenever possible. You have 3 minutes of gloriously hiding in a dark closet before the 4 year old starts panicking. That’s plenty of time to pick your nose, take a few deep breaths, and watch a clip from last night’s Daily Show.
4. Take baby on a walk for her nap. If she naps in the house, you still have to interact with other people. But if she naps while you’re pushing her in the stroller, you get to be essentially alone while listening to Radiolab. Plus, you rack up the steps on your Fitbit, which means you technically haven’t been a complete sack of useless shit today, which alleviates the crushing guilt for a brief second.
5. Breastfeed as long as possible. Breastfeeding gives you endless martyr points that you can lord over your useless boob-less husband for years. Sorry, can’t get the kids up in the morning — I was up all night feeding the baby. Sorry, can’t clean up the kitchen — I was up all night feeding the baby. Sorry, can’t do the taxes this year — I was up all night feeding the baby. There’s absolutely nothing he can say to compete with that. As a bonus, bedtime becomes just an hour of laying in bed with your tits hanging out while you watch Netflix. Everyone is happy.
Breastfeeding bonus — pumping. Sure, pumping sucks, but if you’re very lucky, it’s also an opportunity to stop whatever you’re doing and spend 15 minutes alone in a room watching The Office. Do this enough, and you’ll start to get an automatic letdown reflex whenever you see Dwight Schrute.
6. Play dates. Wait, you fucking weirdo — you might be saying to yourself — don’t you have to talk to other parents during a play date? Not necessarily! Combine a play date with the first tip, and you get to spend 20 minutes relaxing in someone else’s bathroom and flipping through their magazines, while the other parent has to watch your kids and wonder where the hell you went, vowing never to invite you over again. That’s ok — look them straight in the eye when you come out, say nothing about your lengthy disappearance, and invite them over to your house for next time. Stock your bathroom with magazines.
7. The park! — sings a choir of angels from heaven. Get them there and set them loose. Glue yourself to the bench and do not interfere, no matter what. If they try to drag you into their bullshit, tell them to work it out for themselves, park rules. It doesn’t matter who hit whom as long as you can drink your latte in peace for five minutes. It’s not neglect, it’s character building.
And there you go. Some easy tips on how to spend half your life avoiding your adorable children so that you can spend the other half missing them.
Coming up in 10 years: how to get your surly teenager to spend time with you.