My toddler recently took her first steps, but that enthusiasm didn’t last long. After just a few minutes, she traded walking for running, arms flailing and squealing with delight like a tiny, joyful tornado. She zooms through life, and I find myself constantly scooping her up from the brink of danger, especially near roads. Just last week, she was happily racing down the sidewalk when she stumbled over a crack in the pavement, resulting in a scraped knee and a bump on her forehead. As a parent, you quickly learn to recognize your child’s cries: the tired whine, the feigned sob for attention, and the gut-wrenching wail of pain.
In hindsight, I could have prevented that fall. I could have kept her on the grass, or even inside, or held her hand tightly as she explored. But if I had done all that, she wouldn’t have had the chance to experience the world around her like she deserves. Scrapes and bruises are part of growing up; they happen when you’re full of joy and excitement, running around like a sugar-fueled whirlwind.
With recent events in the news—tragic incidents involving violence and accidents—the world feels increasingly perilous. It’s instinctive to look for ways to shield our loved ones from harm. We’re intelligent, we believe we’re in control, and we cherish our families, so it’s hard to accept that misfortune could strike us. We’re angry, searching for an outlet for that fury.
I see the disdain some people have for parents who dare to let their kids roam freely, as if their “negligence” is to blame for any mishap. It’s disheartening to witness parents, who likely already feel guilty, being judged by those who lack empathy and understanding. The expectation to have perfect awareness at all times, as if we possessed superhuman abilities, is absurd.
We often lose sight of the fact that the children we see in distress could just as easily be our own. Fear turns us into unreasonably harsh critics. We forget our own slip-ups—those moments when we didn’t read signs carefully or got distracted by our phones. Surely, it could never happen to us because we love our children deeply.
We live in a culture that criticizes overprotective parenting, yet in the next breath, we call for intervention when we see a child playing outside alone. It’s time to face a hard truth:
We are all imperfect parents.
You might be hovering too much. Maybe you don’t supervise your child enough. Perhaps you let them watch too much TV or even use a toddler leash. You might be stressing them out with too many activities, or conversely, not providing enough socialization. You could be breastfeeding too long or feeding them something labeled as unhealthy. No matter your parenting style, there’s always someone who thinks you’re failing.
In a decade, our kids will be teenagers and likely resent us, voicing their frustrations loudly. In another twenty years, they might sit in therapy, vowing to parent differently. And in thirty years, they’ll probably find themselves judged for their own choices.
Imagine if any of us had our less-than-perfect parenting moments broadcast for all to scrutinize. It’s all too easy to criticize another parent from the comfort of your own perspective.
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In summary, we’re all navigating the challenges of parenthood, and it’s a journey filled with errors, criticisms, and lessons. Instead of pointing fingers, perhaps we should embrace our shared struggles.
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