My Confession: For Realz

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I have a confession, a deep and dark internal conflict that courses through every aspect of my life.  To me it’s incredibly obvious, and while I don’t fear the eventual day when this secret comes out- I do wait for it (or at least to be called out on it) I do expect it.  So, I’ve decided to just let it out into the open, and let you know it now.  I’m sure many are thinking it, and this may both shock and amaze.  Be forewarned.


That secret confession?
I have no idea what I’m doing.
None. Nada. Zip.
Raising kiddo has made me realize I knew jack all about kids, at least when it comes to my own.   Sure, all is going well in a riding by the seat on my pants kind of way.  Don’t get me wrong, I thought I knew what I was getting myself into.  Heck I was a nanny and worked in childcare.  Before she was born I was an armchair expert on raising children.  I knew it all, and how to do it all well.  Kids love me, so how hard could it be.
*pausing for laughing fits* Ready? Okay then.
Then of course she was born and all those factoids I was convinced of quickly crumbled.  Gone.  Poof.
Considering she’s a couple weeks shy of three, and will please and thank you with no prompting (and of course not in some sort of toddler jail, with temporary tattoos and whatever else a toddler would have if they were in some sort of jailhouse cliché), I think all is still going well.  She’s happy, smart, and well adjusted to boot. Overall she’s amazing and doing great.
Even if I’m pretty much just making it up as I go.  It does seem to be working, so I guess it works for me (somehow).