I haven’t been a freelance writer for very long. Just over a year.
And it’s been quite a year, both as a writer and just…for me. As a human and as a parent.
Nothing in my life has been particularly bad or good.
But I’m not a person who easily sails through life because of my particular personality.
My brain likes to fill my mind with garbage.
Some call it depression. Or maybe anxiety. And I call it both those things at times.
But honestly, I’m quite a high functioning individual and I’m always learning new things which help me push through the tough parts of life.
Anyway, back to writing.
When I started freelancing, my intention was to get work as a certified personal trainer. Because I actually am. I love talking about fitness. Just today I struggled to contain myself at the chiropractor office when I saw a “beginner” workout posted on the wall.
I love talking about fitness. Just today I struggled to contain myself at the chiropractor office when I saw a “beginner” workout posted on the wall.
It included squat jumps and burpees. For 20 seconds each, times 3.
If you’re a true beginner, please don’t do squat jumps and burpees during your first workout. You’ll either hurt yourself or be so sore the next day, you’ll never want to exercise again!
I get passionate about this stuff and I thought combining fitness and writing made sense with having a family and my chronic foot pain (plantar fasciitis).
Well, I ended up getting more job offers on Upwork for parenting articles. I’ve written close to 100 parenting articles in the past year.
And, at first, it was okay. I mean, I’m a mom of 5 KIDS!
I must be an expert, right?
That is so, so wrong. I don’t even pretend to think I’m an expert!
And it seemed that the more time I spent in front of my laptop (writing parenting articles), the worse my kid’s behaviour became.
Just a minute there. I have 2 teenagers – 16 and 14 years old – one almost-teen (age 12), one emotionally-charged daughter (she’s 10), and my baby who is 8.
If you have never parented a teenager, you can’t even begin to guess what it’s like.
Pre-teens and “threenagers” don’t even come close to the attitude my husband and I have dealt with this past year.
Then again, I readily admit that my 10-year-old daughter is in a class of her own and I dread when she hits the teen years. I’m wise enough to not say, “If she’s bad now, she’ll get it out of her system before she’s a teenager.”
No, that’s not how it works.
If she’s difficult at 10 years of age, she’ll be five times as difficult in five years.
I know, because she has a lot of anger issues similar to my 16-year-old and he’s been giving us a run for our money since has about 14 months old.
So you might say I’m passionate about parenting.
I mean, I do have a lot to say about it!
Or rather, I have a lot of complaining to do about how insanely hard parenting is!
But the more cumulative parenting years I gather beneath my ever-widening belt, the worse I feel as a parent.
Teenagers will do that to you. They will humble you in a way that a toddler could not even dream of!
They will also crush your heart and stomp on it, grinding it into the ground. And you’ll tell yourself it’s just hormones and you can kinda soothe yourself with that theory, but by 14 years old, they know exactly what hurts.
So much more than a three-year-old know.
I hear you toddler-mom. I’ve been there, done that too. Five times to be exact.
I know the road ahead of you seems long and confusing, but trust me, the toddler years are hysterically funny compared to the teenager years!
So here I am. Struggling to parent my five kids. Being asked – paid! – to impart my parenting tips.
I do not have any solid advice.
Because just when I think I’ve got it figured out, my best advice back fires on me!
I can no longer give advice. At least, you can’t pay me to give advice.
I’ll give it for free because then you won’t really care if what I say doesn’t work for you.
I’ll tell you my stories. My parenting battles.
My crazy, true life stories that make me wonder if every single day is a full moon.
All I can do is hang on and do the best I can, how ever that looks on any given day. Usually pathetic.
But if I do have one piece of advice, it would be this:
Never, ever lose your sense of humour as a parent.
Otherwise, they win and you lose.