I Don’t Judge Your Parenting, But My Living Room Does

Having four children is very full on. My house ranges from an 11-year-old calling me “Bro” as if I’m one of her mates to an almost 10-month-old who still hasn’t quite mastered what a full night’s sleep means. Thinking back to when it was just me and my 11-year-old, my parenting style was to live day by day and get through it together.

​Fast forward through three more kids, and things have changed. I’m not a super strict parent, but we have rules. Why? Because I learnt from being a young mum that was super chilled that having no rules and hoping for the best each day would turn into a young child screaming at me for saying no. I’ve learnt my lesson over the years. Whilst I don’t judge anyone for how they parent, I have realised I need to start socially distancing myself from certain parenting styles.

​It’s not me being a horrible person; everyone needs to live their life how they see fit, but when your parenting choices involve your child using my sofa as a trampoline with their shoes on and you doing nothing about it, I’m probably going to tell you I’m busy the next time you message, and the next day and probably forever.

​Rules get broken from time to time; my kids, especially, still try to push my buttons, but even they know there are limits. There is nothing that bothers me more than disrespect. Having that child I mentioned before jumping on my sofa with shoes on, horrified me, and not because of the actions of the child, but how the parent handled it.

​I’m far from the ‘soft parent’ era. If my child does something wrong, there are consequences.

​This parent just sat there, totally unbothered by the chaos her child was creating. Once I started looking at her child and gave her “mum eyes” to suggest she needed to intervene, she asked her child to “please stop” multiple times.

The child did nothing.

​The dad stepped in, not to stop the chaos and try to get control of the situation, but to ask the boy if he was doing well listening. I sat there watching this whole situation unfold, and both parents were totally chilled out, with no control.

​By the time the LEGO box had been poured over my entire front room, they both still sat there totally unbothered. They seemed satisfied with just having a few words about listening.

At the end of this visit (and the last), they left in high spirits. I, however, was left to clear up the juice that had been spilt (on purpose). Clear my sofa that looked as if my child’s entire class had come over for a pillow fight, and fish Lego out from every area of my front room.

I never leave a house without helping to tidy up, especially if it’s my children who have made the mess.

I try not to be judgemental. I see people living differently from me, different rules and other beliefs, that’s fine. No judgement over here, but I’ve realised I would rather those particular beliefs stay away from my front room.

Ultimately, that has led me to lose friends I’ve had since before either of us even had kids. It turns out, sometimes the ‘Village’ is just a place where you’re left holding the Broom.

This story has also been published on my medium account

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