Jill Parkhill Designs Giveaway

I'm very excited to bring you another awesome giveaway! Jill is a fellow May 2004 mom (her little girl is the same age as my Everett), and I've enjoyed getting to know her through our online playgroup. She's a wonderful artist who's been in business for nearly seven years. She started off by painting murals for her own daughter, which grew into painting for family and friends. She started getting more and more requests for her work, and now sells her paintings and murals internationally.

I started working from home when my daughter was born because I couldn't bear the thought of missing all those important stages. Now 6 years later I'm able to still be home with her and continue to paint. I've painted lots of different themes, lots of custom work, and I LOVE seeing client's faces when they see what I've been able to create specially for them.

Jill is offering to give away one custom painted 11 x 14in canvas ($65 value!) to one lucky reader. Your design can be chosen from something she's already done, or can be completely custom, as per the winner's choice.  Awesome, right? She can create something to match your child's room, or give you a unique, one-of-a-kind gift for a new mom and baby. Below are just a few examples of some of her recent works.  Please check out her website, and visit her Facebook page for more.

Thinking about what you'd like to see hanging in your own house?  Then you've gotta enter to win!  Here's what you need to know:

1) Comment on this post to enter once.

2) Share this giveaway on FB or Twitter, come back and comment again, and you're entered twice.

3) Want a third chance to win?  Go to Facebook and "like" Jill's page, and come back to let me know you've done that too.  (If you already like it, that counts too!)

4) I'll keep this open for entries for one week, and will announce the winner - chosen randomly - by the end of the day on Monday, March 28th.

Thanks so much to Jill for such a cool giveaway, and good luck!

Another Lesson Learned

I took Driver's Ed when I was 16. I remember:

~Andrew, the guy I sat beside, flirted with, became friends with, and eventually dated (I would later break up with him because I met my now-husband)

~Lisa, the girl who could turn just about anyone's words into an innuendo, and frequently did so

~The day I sat through class with my faced numbed up and gauze in my mouth because I'd just had four teeth pulled in preparation for braces

~The checklist we had to follow every time we got behind the wheel, which always, always concluded with fastening our seat belt before we even started the car. I didn't always wear my seat belt as a passenger, but I have always worn it as a driver, thanks to getting the habit so ingrained so many years ago in Driver's Ed.

We spent today off-roading in Sedona, and I'm thinking of Driver's Ed not because we were driving in places like this...

but because tonight I was reminded of the importance of a checklist, and of getting into good habits.

I've blogged before about my new camera, and of the fact that I'm still trying to learn to use it (without relying on the automatic mode) I have had moments of extreme frustration, to be sure, but I finally thought I was getting the hang of it, and starting to produce more keepers than not. So tonight, when I uploaded my 200+ pictures from the day onto my laptop, I was devastated to see that with very few exceptions they were all blurry, soft, and various other degrees of "off." After a brief moment of mentally berating myself, I realized that my error was simple... it was on the wrong setting (and I then began berating myself anew) Mike had changed a setting when he was experimenting last night, and he'd never changed it back. And I never checked it when I started snapping today. I'm relieved that I'm not in fact just the worst photographer ever, but I'm oh so frustrated with myself that I made such a stupid mistake. And I'm disappointed that I missed on out some amazing photographs of an amazing place.

Next time - and every time - I will check my settings first.

Fuzzy pictures aside, we had a wonderful day, the kind that makes me glad I'm alive, and glad I live in Arizona. The whole thing was Spencer's idea:

It was a trip he'd been wanting to make for months now. We planned on going on his birthday, but got rained out. We rescheduled for another day, but, alas, we got rained out again. Today was our day, and it didn't disappoint.

We did some good rock-crawling, enjoyed some amazing views, had a picnic in the middle of red rocks, and watched the kids climb, jump and play.

Yup, 'twas a darn good day, made even better by the fact that we capped it off with gelato.

And next time I'll check the settings on my camera.

Baby Steps

I tend to have an all-or-nothing personality. When I'm in my groove, nothing can stop me. I feel like I can take on the world. I'm organized, I'm upbeat, I'm productive, I'm happily humming along. Which is great when things are great, but pull out one tiny thread and I crumble. Once I start to lose my footing, for whatever reason, I let it all go. I can't sleep, I stop eating right, I stop exercising, I let the housework pile up, etc.  Until enough time passes, something reminds to get a grip, and I get myself right again.

It's kind of exhausting.

Yesterday, I signed up for another (thankfully self-paced) course that I've been wanting to take for a long time now.  As excited as I was - and I am excited - I was almost instantly seized with a sense of panic:

"Why in the world do I think I can do this when I can't even keep up with the laundry?"

I publicly lamented the fact that I wished I had more TIME (even though I know, deep down, that this has absolutely nothing to do with time)  and I got this wonderful, beautiful response from one of my readers on Facebook:

"You have all the time in the world! Just need to realize which things are for now and which are for another season in your life.... I think each thing should get our full attention and intention before we move on to the next idea. Slow it down. You'll get to it soon enough."

Such a timely reminder.  I have so many things I want to do, and because of life, and priorities, and circumstances, they keep getting shuffled around.  My yoga training has been put off again, most likely until next year... partly because of necessity, and partly because of choice.

I can't do it all right now. And that's okay.  It doesn't mean that there's something wrong with me, and it doesn't mean I have to just throw in the towel.   It means that I can live in the moment, and give myself fully to the season at hand.  It means that whatever I'm doing, I can do it deliberately, and fully, and with my whole heart...  and the rest will fall into place.

The past few weeks have been rife with sickness, sleeplessness, and stress.  I've been overwhelmed with how behind I am on ... well ... everything.  Today, I took a deep breath, decided to find peace in the moment, and slowly started stepping my way back into the light.  I can't fix it all today.  And that's okay too.

Today, it was just about the laundry.

I still had 3 more loads to do after these.

Since the kids are sick, and just needed to lay around and rest anyway, I put on a family-friendly movie, poured myself a fresh cup of coffee.... and folded the heck out of that pile of clothes.

It was actually strangely soothing and cathartic when I gave myself fully to the moment, and it felt good.  I wasn't stressing out about the rest of my to-do list, wasn't getting frustrated with the three year old (who was tossing the pile as quick as I could fold it), wasn't thinking about what I was going to do next.  I was just enjoying a movie with my kids, thankful for a tiny step back to organization, thankful for clean clothes, thankful for the opportunity to do something that would make our weekend a little bit easier.

There is peace to be found, even in laundry.

Blips

This picture is from last year, but it makes me happy, so I wanted to post it again. Today was a good day, and a fun day. The kids and I spent it at a friend's house, where they had a scavenger hunt, jumped on the trampoline, baked Irish-themed goodies, and even braved the pool. It really was a lovely day.

But...

I'm still feeling regretful that I was less patient than I would have liked in dealing with the ten year old when he didn't want to get off the trampoline, and with the six year old when he burst into tears for the fourth time, and even with my husband when I got home. I've been distracted, and scattered, and unfocused for longer than I care to admit.  The house is nearly unlivable it's so messy, half the kids are coughing (or sneezing or runny-nosed or feverish, again), and I am tired... tired and unable to sleep, one of the most frustrating and continuous conundrums of my life. 

I was telling a friend recently that unschoolers sometimes paint too rosy of a picture.  That it's such a joyful life that everything just sort of flows.  That it's always happy and moonlight and roses and rainbows.  And make no mistake... it IS a joyful life.  It IS a happy life. 

But sometimes... sometimes, there are blips.   And because I always want to keep things real, I think it's only fair if I share a blip or two.

Welcome to my blip. 

Why we do the things we do...

I think the strongest reactions I've ever gotten to something I've written have come from other Christians when I've posted about discipline, particularly spanking.  (These are a couple that come to mind...Discipline, Christian Parenting, He Who Spareth) And while there's lots to write about what the Bible does - and does not - have to say about spanking, this time I'm going to leave it out.  Another post.  Another day.  This time I'm not going to talk about the Bible, or Jesus, or Christian parenting tenants that I may or may not agree with.  This time I'm going to call on the power of common sense, of logic, and of reason... things that cross over all boundaries, and all faiths.

I've always been a huge question-asker, particularly fond of the word, "Why."  I drove my teachers (and likely others) crazy.  But my incessant "whys" have served me well, both in my own life and in patiently dealing with my children's questions.  If you're going to learn, you have to ask questions.

If you're going to really learn, you have to ask hard questions.  And one thing I've learned is that often the most important questions aren't the ones you ask others, but the ones you ask - and answer - yourself.   By far, the most growing I've done as a person has come from questioning, well, everything, about WHY.  Particularly why I think, believe, and do the things I do.

And because I'm such a questioner, it makes me.... frustrated, for lack of a better word... with people who are not.  A couple of days ago, a friend of mine posted a couple of articles and studies about spanking.  They sparked some heated comments from parents defending spanking.  Parents who, from what I could tell, had never honestly asked themselves why they spank:

I was spanked as a child and I turned out fine. This to me is one the strangest, most illogical reasons I ever hear... not just for spanking, but for all kinds of things.  Previous generations did LOTS of things that we now know better about.   Most of us were raised without car seats.  We now know that car seats save lives.  Many of us had mothers that smoked when they were pregnant.  We now know how extremely harmful that is.  This is not to condemn our own parents, or our parents' parents, who were doing the best with the information they had at the time.  But we know better now.  Doing something because our parents did it is not good enough.  Justifying it by saying that we turned out "fine" (whatever fine means) is not good enough.  It is no different than peer pressure, than following the crowd and doing something just because everyone else is doing it.  We were given working, thinking brains for a reason.

Some kids need to be spanked.   No one deserves, or needs, to be spanked.  As a society, we recognize that when a man hits his spouse, that it is wrong... that no one deserves that, no matter what.  Period.  Children are even smaller, and even more vulnerable.  How can any logical, thinking mind reconcile hitting a child as being okay?  NO ONE deserves, or needs, to be spanked.

Spanking is the only thing that works or If I don't spank, they'll become out of control/unruly/criminals. I hear these a lot too.  "Sometimes you have to spank to teach them a lesson."  Or to teach them right from wrong.  Or to keep them safe.  It's the only way they'll learn not to put their fingers in the light socket!  It's the only way they'll learn to stay out of the street!   I have four children.  Four children who are kind, honest, and know right from wrong.  Four children who keep their fingers out of outlets, and know not to run into the street.  Four children who have never been spanked.   And spanking children to hopefully thwart future unwanted behavior? This seems to be based on some kind of supposition that kids are inherently "bad," and that they couldn't possibly grow into loving, caring adults who know how to peacefully exist in society until and unless it is beat into them.   Again, I'm getting lost in the logic.

At their roots, all of the above reasons for spanking are based in the same thing:  fear.  They all come from fear.  Fear of breaking out of a familiar and comfortable cycle.  Fear of doing things differently than they've always been done.   Fear of asking yourself the hard questions, and of thinking on your own.  Fear of the unknown, and fear of taking that leap of faith.  Fear of the "what ifs"  Fear of accepting something other than the status quo.  Fear of what your parents might say, what your friends might say, what your church might say. 

Is fear a good motivator for your parental decisions? 

And finally, I think the reasons that I don't hear in defense of spanking are even more telling than those I do hear.

I never hear anyone say, 
 "I spank because it feels right to me."  
THAT'S BECAUSE IT DOESN'T.

I never hear anyone say,
"I spank because it strengthens my relationship with my child."
THAT'S BECAUSE IT DOESN'T.


IT  DOESN'T FEEL RIGHT to hurt other people, especially people we love.  It goes against our nature to hurt the very people that we are supposed to be loving and nurturing the most.  It doesn't feel good, and it doesn't feel right.  We all know this.  We know this, which is why we try to instill it in our children.  Parents teach their children not to hit, not to fight, not to hurt others... because they know it's wrong.  And then they try to reinforce this important message in their children by hitting them? 


I know, I know.  Spanking advocates argue that spanking is not hitting.  It's not fair to call it hitting.  It's entirely different than hitting.

To that, I say:

BULLSHIT.

Let's be real.  Let's call a spade a spade.  Spanking is hitting, and hitting is wrong.  We know this.  We know this.  There's a reason that hitting another adult could earn you an assault charge.

Let's use logic.  Let's use reason.  Let's use common sense. 

But beyond that, let's let the Golden Rule apply first to our family.  Let's treat our children the way we want to be treated.  Let's treat them in a way that strengthens our relationship, instead of tearing it down.  Let's show them the respect that we want them to show to us.  Let's ask ourselves the hard questions, and let's see where we could do better.

And please, if you don't have a good "why" for hitting your kids (and you DON'T, because there isn't one) please.  Please.  Stop.

Ridiculous Chocolate WINNER!

Thanks so much to everyone who visited, entered, and shared the link! And a huge, huge thank you to Mandy, for sharing your story and being such an inspiration.

Congratulations Linda!! I can't wait for you to taste this chocolate (and I'm only a little bit jealous :)) Send me an email with your mailing information, as well as what flavor you would like, so I can get it to Mandy. 

Thanks everyone!  And sit tight for another giveaway soon.

The Story of Our First Egg

The end. 

Life as a Race: Observations From the Sidelines

Picture a race.

Not two kids playfully challenging each other to see who can make it to the swing set first, but a RACE race. A marathon. A triathlon. Picture a race.

There's a guy or two way out in front, clearly ahead of the pack.

There's a guy or two way in the back too, clearly lagging behind.

Then there's the whole mass of people in the middle. Kind of hard to make heads or tails of what's going on there because they're all clumped together. Some are working as hard as they can to stay with the pack, pushing themselves to their very limit so they don't fall behind.

Others are operating at 75%. They know they could push a little harder, but they're satisfied just to keep pace with the crowd. Maybe they'll save some energy for the end. Maybe they'll be content with the status quo.

Then there are those who could be with the leaders, maybe even beyond the leaders. They know they could do it, and everyone around them knows they could do it. But for their own personal reasons, they too stay with the pack. Maybe they're bored. Maybe they just don't feel like racing anymore. Maybe they never really wanted to race in the first place. Or maybe they wanted to race, but they wanted to do it on a horse. Or a bicycle. Or a stagecoach. But for whatever reason, they're here in this race, so they put in the bare minimum of effort, they hang with the crowd, and they blend into the masses.

Does this sound familiar to anyone?

This is exactly what's playing out, day after day, with our children. Public schools, private schools, home schools (yes, I'm leaving no one out) You have to catch up! You have to get ahead! You have to WIN!

It begs the question... who ever decided that childhood should be a race? And who ever thought it would be a good idea to believe it?

The ironic part is that once you're an adult, that particular race is just abruptly over. No finish line, no celebration... it just ends. Honestly, I don't think I placed well in the race that was school (my grades were fine, but I was turned down for National Honor Society, I never "worked up to my potential", and I didn't finish college) But, alas, it doesn't matter anymore. No one's knocking on my door wanting to tutor me in math so I can catch up to my Budget Manager husband. No one's knocking on his office door forcing him to improve his reading speed so he can catch up with me. No, that race has ended, and in its place an entirely new one has begun. As adults we're behind - or ahead - based on jobs, on money, on neighborhoods, on societal standings. It's all about keeping up with the Joneses.

Am I the only one who sees how utterly insane this is?

I tend to make decisions first with my heart. But beyond that I have always been strongly drawn to logic. And it doesn't make any kind of logical sense to subscribe to a system that calls someone "behind" because they're not reading by age six. Behind what, exactly? Behind the average? An average's entire existence hinges on the fact that there are numbers both below and above it. Without a wide range of "normal" there would BE no average. Why, why are we labeling, and pushing, and demanding that these kids catch up? Why should they have to follow anyone else's path, run anyone else's race, but their own? Why should these kids start their lives thinking that they are "less than" somehow? When they are KIDS, when they should be playing and exploring and learning in joy? I honestly don't understand it.

And it's not just a problem of position. No, the problem is with the race. Every position has its own unique set of problems.

The ones in the front, the leaders, forget why they're running. Eventually they're running just to win, regardless of why they started the race in the first place. They lose sight of their goal.

The ones in the back, the ones who are behind, feel inadequate. They think there's something wrong with them, and they slowly give up and push back against everyone who's urging them to catch up. They lose their confidence. They lose their faith.

The saddest ones though are the ones in the middle (which is most of us). They too feel inadequate because they're not winning. And they too forget why they're in the race. But more than that, they get lost in the crowd. They lose their sense of individuality. They lose THEMSELVES.

I will not let - no, I refuse to let - life be a race for my children, or for myself. I refuse to give in to the notion that life is about "winning". Life is not a race. Can I say that again?

LIFE IS NOT A RACE.

Life is not a clear-cut path, but a meandering stream. It's not a merry-go-round, but a roller coaster. It doesn't always go from point A to point B, it doesn't always make sense, and there are sometimes some mighty big obstacles. But it's ours to live. It's our KIDS' to live. It's not about competing with everyone around us; it's about following our own paths.

I really try not dwell on any "what ifs." I try to live in the moment, and fully appreciate the here and now. But if there's one "what if" that keeps trying to make a return appearance in my head, it's the one about my own school experience. What if I hadn't gotten swallowed up in that clump of people in the middle of the race? What if I hadn't lost myself? What if I hadn't let my self-esteem be so badly battered by the teachers and peers who told me I wasn't good enough? What if I'd had that time I always wanted... time to write, time to daydream, time to figure out who the heck I was?. Who would I be now?

I look back, and I just have to feel sorry for that lost little girl. And I don't want to ever have to feel that way about my own kids. I don't ever want to deal with that "what if." I want my kids to be able to learn according to their own time-table, not someone else's. I want them to be able to follow their own interests, not someone else's. I want them to be able to know who they are, and be proud of who they are. Right now. Not after they learn a certain set of skills, or pass a certain test.

I don't want them to lose sight of what they're doing.
I don't want them to lose their faith.
I don't want them to lose themselves.

And so, on behalf of myself and my children, I respectfully opt out of your race.

We choose to live our own lives, we choose to forge our own paths, and we choose to find our own happiness. We choose not to measure our success against anyone else's, and we choose to accept and embrace and love who we are... exactly as we are, exactly where we are. On the sidelines of your race, living life. Exploring in the mountains, playing in the streams, and digging up the dirt.

We opt out.

Life With a Three Year Old

This is my favorite coffee mug

We bought these mugs about 5 years ago, and they are still my favorite mugs for my morning coffee.  They just make me deliriously happy.  We originally bought 8, and are down to 7 (which is pretty darn good, considering my tendency to break things.)  I have a few other mugs that I will use, depending on my mood, but this is the mug you're most likely to see if you drop in on me on any given day.

Yesterday, I was on cup number three.  I took that final swig, set my cup down, and saw this:

It looked like a ramen noodle, but we don't buy ramen noodles.  It could have even been a small worm, which in some ways might have been preferable to what it actually was.  I asked Tegan if she knew what it was, and she very casually peered into my cup, went back to what she was doing, and said,

"Oh, that's my dental floss.  I put it in there."  Because naturally, the most normal and sensible thing to do with your dental floss when you're done with it is to put it in your mother's coffee. 

She'd put used dental floss in my coffee.  Used dental floss.  In my coffee.

"How about next time, you put it in the trash when you're done?  Or you can give it to me, and I can put it in the trash for you?"

"Okay, Mommy."  Sweetly, innocently.

Never a dull moment.

Unschooling and Unparenting: What's In a Label

 

A few years ago, there was a piece on one of those nightly new programs (20/20, Dateline, or something similar) entitled, "The Dark Side of Homeschooling." Against my better judgment, I watched it. The story was about a family that claimed to homeschool - because they wanted to keep the authorities away from their house - while they abused and neglected their children. The kids were living in squalor, existing amidst rotting food and feces. It was a horrific, heartbreaking story.

Now, a logical, thinking person would watch something like this and know that despite its gratuitous title, it is not about homeschooling. It has nothing to do with homeschooling, and everything to do with abuse and neglect, things that sadly can (and do) take place among ALL educational paths, ALL different socioeconomic and religious backgrounds. It's not about homeschooling. The problem arises from the fact that not everyone is a logical, thinking person. There are people who watch things like this, people who may already have a bias or a poor understanding of homeschooling, and unfairly use it as further fuel... justification to continue to mistrust, misunderstand, or hold animosity towards alternative means of education.

This is why I'm never really thrilled by the idea of homeschooling or unschooling being in the media, and why I think it's so important that we're mindful of our wording when we talk about them. Words DO matter, especially when a poorly chosen word gives the wrong impression.

Earlier this week, I read a blog post about homeschooling "extremes" that used words that I just couldn't reconcile in my mind with unschooling. I have since read it over and over, and I believe the author's intentions were good ... but that she ended up missing the mark.

The first thing that caught my attention was the phrase, "hands off." If you look at a school-at-home style of homeschooling, one in which the mother assigns work, gives tests, and prescribes a set of a "must-do's" as "hands on", then I suppose the opposite of that would be hands off. Unschoolers don't assign work, they don't give tests, they don't prescribe a set of "must-do's" They do not direct their children's learning at all. The problem with the description of "hands off" though, is that unschoolers are quite the opposite of hands-off! Unschooling parents are there on the floor playing with their kids. They're in the backyard looking at worms and mud puddles and butterflies. They're in the kitchen, making cookies. They're in the library, helping to find books on photosynthesis or engineering or stingrays or whatever the newest passion may be. They're in the car, driving to scouts or baseball or gymnastics. They're answering questions, providing supplies, and playing games. They're fetching scissors, they're holding tape measures steady, and they're making life-size chalk drawings in the driveway.

They're present. They're involved. They're hands-on. Regardless of the original intention of the words, hearing a phrase like "hands off" doesn't help anyone understand unschooling.

But what has really stayed with me - and quite honestly, confused me - was her assertion that "unparenting" was a common term used within unschooling circles. And by all means, my unschooling circle is not very large. I went to my first unschooling conference three years ago, and began reaching out on the internet even more recently. But I've talked to hundreds of unschoolers, and not once have I ever heard anyone claim to be an "unparent." In fact the only time I've heard the term referred to by an unschooler has been in the context of:

Unschoolers do NOT unparent.

By its very nature, the word itself is a negative word. The prefix "UN-" means "NOT." And the word "parent" (per my standby, dictionary.com) means "to be or act as a mother, father, protector, guardian" *English lesson over* So I'm left wondering, why would an unschooler - or anyone for that matter - embrace a label that literally means to NOT act as a protector? As a guardian?

Make no mistake... radical unschoolers do parent differently than the traditional, authoritative model of parenting that many people are used to seeing. They believe in giving their children freedom, and they allow their children to be autonomous when it comes to decisions about things like bedtimes, meals, and media usage (three big ones that are frequently mentioned) But within that framework of freedom there is loving support. There is guidance. There is protection. There is parenting. Yes, it may look different from "because I'm the parent and I said so" parenting, but it is parenting. Based on the word alone, unparenting, or "not parenting" isn't a style of parenting. It's neglect.

Take my bedtime example up above....

A) In a more traditional household, a good and loving parent would probably have set a specific bedtime based on their family's needs. They may follow a schedule when it comes to things like getting ready for bed. They may do a snack. They may do a bath, read books, say prayers, and say goodnight with a hug and a kiss.

B) In an unschooling household, a good and loving parent would probably allow their child the freedom to follow their own internal clock when it comes to sleep (which works for most unschooling families) As the evening winds down, they may watch TV together or play together. Parents and children go to bed when they are individually ready. They may do a bath, read books, say prayers, and say goodnight with a hug and a kiss.

C) In a non-parenting household, the 'parent' may ignore the signs of a tired child altogether. There are no goodnights, no hugs and kisses, no winding down together. There is no protection. There is no guidance. There is no parenting.

Parent A and Parent B do things differently, but the end result is the same.... a child who goes to bed feeling loved, safe, and protected.

Parent C, the unparent, is neglecting their child.

Now I have to be honest and share that during the couple of days that I was working on this post, a friend pointed me a website that showed me that there is indeed an entire positive movement calling itself "unparenting." Some of its tenants are unconditional acceptance, engaged listening, authentic responses, getting to know your child inside and out, lightening up and finding humor, being a friend, and excavating joy.... which are absolutely beautiful and SO MUCH a part of how I parent!

Oh but that label...

I don't want to parent according to someone else's set of rules and guidelines. I don't want to be bound by a label - ANY label - that can only serve to further misconceptions and prejudices, to box me in in someone's mind, to lump me in a category with anyone else. Unschooling itself is so misunderstood - so misunderstood! - and I can't believe that there's any good to be had in using labels that literally mean "not parenting" when talking about it to others. It will not help people understand it, and it will only make it harder for those just trying to live their lives under the watchful eye of skeptical outsiders.

I have many friends who parent differently than I do. Friends who I respect, and friends who I admire. And while I may not always agree with all the decisions that they make - and vice-versa - I do know, without a doubt, that they love their children as fiercely as I do. I know that they would take a bullet for their kids, gladly. I know that they are good parents.

And I would hope that when they talk about me, and my own parental choices, that it's not within the limits of a confusing and negative-sounding label like "unparenting." I would hope that they too know, without a doubt, how fiercely I love my children. That I would take a bullet for my kids, gladly. That I am a good parent, with no labels, and no qualifiers.