What Happens When I Surf Parenting Articles

I'm not big on parenting sites or books or blogs, mostly because the little bit of time I have to devote to reading the written word I want to save for impossibly thick books that keep me up until the wee hours of the night.

But after a week or two of boundary-testing, limits-pushing, and heels-dug-in tempers from little Tom, this headline on Yahoo! caught my eye:

The Top 6 Reasons Kids Have Tantrums.

I skimmed it and noted that the article did not mention The Top 2 Reasons *My* Kid Has Tantrums:

1. Because he, like my dear departed father-in-law before him, is wired for words. I see a Debate Club championship trophy in my dear boy's future, or at least some very interesting report cards; and,

2. Because it's fun to make mom crazier than a loon. Let's face it - smart kids figure out that tantrums give them momentary power in a situation over which they have no power. While I am very good (finally, after three kids) at keeping my voice neutral and my words light but terse in a meltdown moment, by the --- oh, I dunno --- fourth or fifth of the day, I am frayed like a piece of cheap twine. And the little bugger knows it.

So I scrolled up from the text of that article, intending to click over to my inbox, when this link caught my eye:

I lie about my son's age at the playground.

And of course I was intrigued; I had to click and follow that because all sorts of wacky scenarios were popping into my mind. Don't worry, it's nothing too nutto, just more of the competitve mom crap (the my-kid-is-racing-through-his/her-developmental-stages-at-light-speed-why-isn't-yours?! crap ) that always happens when mothers of young children converge in public gathering places. Oy.

But wait, there's more!

Just as I rolled my eyes remembering what life was like when Huck 12 months old and the size of an average 2 year old (oh, the things total strangers have said to me about that sweet boy), I saw this link:

Octomom's Halloween Costume really scares us.

And I made the final mistake of my surfing session by clicking on it.

Oh, my eyes! My eyes!

I know as a Catholic I should be enraged at the pregnant nun costume but my mind was too busy doing basic math.

Let's see, 8 octuplets + 6 siblings = 14 grown adults who will one day need major therapy to deal with their mother issues. I'm betting we'll get to watch those sessions on a reality show around 2030 or so. Double oy.

Clearly it's time for me to shut down the computer and go grab one of those uber-thick-keep-you-up-until-dawn books instead.

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