Not Caring Has Made Me a Better Parent

Do I raise my kid on trial and error? Absolutely.

Do I wake up some mornings and just stay in bed for a couple more minutes, as my kid screams right into the monitor for my attention? You bet.

Are there moments where I really don’t like my kid? Oh yes.

There are probably a million and one ways that I am doing this parenting thing completely wrong, but you know what?

I don’t care.

In fact, when I sit down and think about it, there are so many aspects of parenthood that I don’t care about.

I don’t care about perfection.

I don’t care about a sparkling, tidy home.

I don’t care about the opinions of others.

I don’t care about my fridge not containing all organic foods.

I don’t care about too much screen time.

I don’t care about a regimented sleep schedule.

I don’t care about milestones being met by a certain time.

I don’t care about calling the pediatrician too often.

I don’t care about expensive toys.

I don’t care about what your kid is doing, that my kid may not be doing.

Sure, it may seem like an awful lot that I don’t care about, and maybe you’re sitting there thinking that it makes me a horrendous person for not caring, but truthfully, not caring about those things has given me more time to appreciate and recognize the things I SHOULD be caring about.

I care about being present and creating memories.

I care about molding my kid into a decent human being.

I care about belly laughs.

I care about remembering to laugh at myself.

I care about always being a safe space.

I care about the little moments.

I care about falling madly in love with my husband over and over again, just watching him be a father.

I care about the kisses.

The cuddles.

The togetherness.

So when I look back on being a mother, I can laugh at how completely and utterly imperfect things were, but that’s perfect to me.

And that’s something I’ll always care about.