Teaching your children that consequences exist: where do we draw the line? 

Well, here’s the cold truth: no one decides where we draw the line, except the parents themselves.

I can tell you, as a mother to a toddler easing her way into the terrible twos, when it comes to telling her no, or using my stern mom voice, I do not hesitate. 

However, when it comes to the way other people decide to handle the tantrums of their children and teenagers, I know better, I know that decision is up to them.

Some people, weirdly, do not know this though. 

There’s so many opinions from people when it comes to disapline – even people that aren’t parents. 

I can tell you, I was raised in a home where if I knew I fucked up, I knew what was coming. I knew every button I could push, and I knew where my parents stood. I also understood respect. Clarification here is that I wouldn’t have known had my parents not taught me. 

When it comes to whether or not a child or teenager is spanked, or grounded, or what have you, it’s not up to you, Mr Random Bystander, that’s why children have parents. Along with parenting, comes teaching:

Teaching right from wrong.

Teaching them the differences. 

Teaching them respect.
When it comes to the consequences and repercussions of the actions our children have done, that truly comes down to us. Stop telling parents how to handle the behavior – they will do what they see fit.

Stop telling parents that if they spank their child, that they’re abusive. (I know, as a child, the only way I actually learned something, was to be punished.) 

We are in the generation of technology and computers, so when a parent decides to take them away, it isn’t anyone’s place to say don’t you think you’re going too far? Because we arent.

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Who created the idea that your life is over after children?

Yes, Becky, I can absolutely go out, and you can absolutely buy me shots of tequila.

This one really gets me. Partially, because I caught the pregnant young, and partially because even now, on baby #2, I still hear backlash.

For some reason, people assume because you reproduced that you are incapable of loving life after that. Wrong.

In fact, if you ask me, I think I loved my life exponentially more the second I heard my daughter’s first cries. People say things that are rather insensitive, people assume that you can’t have a night away, you lose friends because even they assume you are locked inside the house for the rest of your life.

Granted, I don’t particularly like going anywhere without my tiny partner in crime, mainly because she can pretty much pull me out of any unnecessary awkward scenario. Also, because, well, she’s fucking cool. She may not be able to string together full sentences, or respond to whatever you’re saying in the correct context, but no one makes me laugh harder than my daughter does. However, I still get to go out if I choose. I am grateful for Brenden on this spectrum because he knows a social life outside of work and motherhood is just as important. Honestly, I don’t really care to go out, it’s not my thing, but sometimes, I like to see my friends outside of my home. I am an avid movie goer, so sometimes I like to go to the movies as well. I also enjoy nature. I am a human being outside of my child, but she by no means ruined my life. (My social life maybe because my old friends sucked, but whatever, that’s not really a loss to me.)

I also commonly get weird looks when I tell people that I finally plan to go to college after Keegan is born. Why people assume I’m not capable is beyond me. (But you go to work, and have two kids… Aren’t you burning the candle at both ends?) I guess I would be, if I was weak. But, I’ve been graced with a DNA makeup of a strong work ethic, perserverance, and a strong attachment to obtain my long term goals. Children don’t stop those things, they are etched into you for your entire life. I want to give them the best life possible, and if that means that I am pushing myself past my limits, by God, I will. 

Just because I had children, doesn’t mean that I am less of a human being. It doesn’t mean I have to hate myself. It doesn’t mean I’m ruined. 

Because of my children, I have learned to actually love myself in a completely different sense. My children molded me into the person I was meant to be this entire time, and if you ask me – I think that’s pretty fuckin wicked.

My children push me, day in and day out, because they depend on me to be better for them. They depend on me to survive. They are tiny succubus until the day they turn 18, sometimes even after, and they need me. (But truthfully, I think I need them more than they need me sometimes.)

To whoever created the stigma that your life is over after kids: you, my good sir, are a fucking moron. Children not only brighten your entire being, but their entire existence shakes you to the core so hard that you essentially create an entirely new life after them. 

This isn’t a shot at anyone who doesn’t want kids, this is a shot at the people who harp on parents for reproducing. This is aimed and directed at the people that assume you’re incompetent just because you had children. The people who think you have to drop everything in your life to be a parent. (You do drop some things, but most of the time, the dropping of things is actually pretty minimal.) This is for the people who have the idea in their brain that children are solely a mess in your lives, and for the people who believe children ruin shit. 

Spoiler alert: they don’t.

Seriously, look at this spaghetti monster and tell me how children ruin anything!? (Except maybe your carpet.)