She then sighed and went on a rant about how difficult it is with boys.
“They’re a bit slow compared to girls, when it comes to these things.” She said.
I smiled and didn’t say anything. That had not been my experience, but I understood that she had obviously been struggling with potty training. I wasn’t about to confront her gender stereotyping (perhaps I should have, gently?). Clearly she just wanted someone to talk to.
“There’s no “opt out” button. We’re responsible for three small human beings til they reach the age where they can start making life decisions for themselves, pay their own bills, have kids of their own… And even beyond that, I’ll still feel a sense of responsibility towards them. We can’t just switch this parenting thing off whenever we feel like it; it doesn’t just go away whenever you need a break; we have to deal with it, even on our worst days… and the journey has only just begun. Can you believe it?”
These are the types of words that come out of my mouth during conversations with my husband whenever the reality of our lives just hits me.