Diary of a Dad: Week 44 - Things I wish I could say


Parenting is tough for a number of reasons, but one of the most difficult for me is that I often can’t say what I want to.

I mean, I guess I could say some of the things I want to, but in honesty, you kind of have a responsibility as a parent to hold back a bit for the good of your kids.

As much fun as having kids is, after the 899th night of no sleep or another 5 am get up, it’s hard to hold back - there are a lot of things I think but can’t say!

Shut the f*ck up

It’s the repetition for me. Over and over and over and over - you know what I mean. Kids are relentless when it comes to getting your attention and they often know they can grind you down with repetition of the same word or phrase.

Sometimes I can cope with it, but when you’re busy or they’re doing it for hours on end, it can make you want to literally say, “Shut the fuck up.”

You can’t though, so you try to say it nicely as you turn progressively more grey and you consider what fresh hell faces you in the next life.

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It really isn’t brilliant

When you walk into the living room and the cushions have been organised into a “fort” approximately 3minutes after you’ve tidied, it can be difficult to handle.

I think what adds insult to injury is the fact, quite often, that your kids want praise for fucking everything up. It’s like they want to be rewarded for stressing you out with a compliment. Sometimes I want to just say, “No”. I don’t want to stem their “creativity” but I do want to keep my blood pressure at a manageable level.

It’s not the end of the world normally but I do want to tell them their fort is shit sometimes.

Don’t you get it?!

The reasoning ability of a toddler is significantly lower than an adult - an obvious fact, but a helpful one to remember when you’re frustrated.

There have been many occasions where I want to try to explain the logical reasoning behind the stupidity of the decision or action that has been made…but it isn’t fair and they really don’t get it.

As the mud is smeared on the freshly cleaned windows, or the food spilt on the carpet after the nine millionth time of being told not to eat in that room, the only saving grace is that one day, they too may face this fresh torture with children of their own!

Good luck.

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