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ms13
Jun 12

Parenting: The Ultimate Contradiction (And a Roast for the Judgmental)

You ever notice how parenting is just one big contradiction?

We tell our kids, “Love is beautiful! Most important thing!”

Then, “But don’t you dare date until you’re married!”

How are they supposed to learn about love if locked up?

That’s like giving someone a car and hiding the keys.

Then they turn 18, catch freedom, jump into the first relationship-

good, bad, or toxic-because nobody taught them to take time,

set boundaries, or figure out what they actually want.

Desperate to feel something, they settle for anything,

and that’s how abusive situations happen-not just evil people,

but because experience is the best teacher, and we never

gave them a chance to learn.

It’s not just love. We say, “Be kind to everyone!”

But also, “Look out for yourself because nobody else will.”

So which is it? Be a saint or be a shark?

Kids are trying to solve an emotional Rubik’s Cube we handed them,

each side painted a different color of mixed messages.

Let’s talk about the language police. Parents act like if

they just bleep out the word “f***,” it disappears forever.

Newsflash: your kid knows every swear word you do-maybe more.

The real lesson isn’t pretending those words don’t exist;

it’s teaching them when and how to use them.

“Have a great fing day!”-that’s positive energy!

But “F you!”-maybe not, unless it’s a joke with friends.

Context is everything.

Here’s the kicker: parents want kids to open up and be honest,

but the moment a kid makes a mistake, suddenly it’s

like they’re auditioning for a crime drama. Kids learn fast-

better to keep secrets than risk dragging friends into trouble.

But when you offer amnesty, you find out your kid’s

got access to more drugs than you did in college by first grade!

And sharing? Yeah, it’s caring-especially when it’s a group

project in felony charges.

And look, I’m not going to lie-I like my kids

better when they’re high. Honestly, we get along way better

when I’m high too. Suddenly, their “open up” sessions turn

into chill hangouts instead of full-on interrogations.

But here’s the deal I make with my son:

if you’re going to make the grown-up decision to get high,

then make the grown-up decision to care about your future

and your education. You don’t have to get good grades-

as long as you try. That’s all I ask.

Take responsibility for your choices. You want freedom?

It comes with accountability.

And let’s get real-my son may have had sex at 12:00,

but he only ever saw me be abused by every man

I was ever with. So for the fact that he even

knows what love is, let alone how to love,

I win. That’s a victory. Breaking the cycle, even a little,

is everything.

I told my son, “Virginity is a gift-you only give it once,

and you can’t get it back. So give it to someone

who respects you, because you’re setting the bar for

the rest of your life, whether you stay together or not.”

Then I told his girlfriend, “If he messes up, you come

get me. I’ll take that bar and smack some sense

into him myself. Welcome to the family!”

And honestly, they came to me together-that’s how I know

this amnesty thing works. When kids know they can

make a mistake at home without it ruining their lives,

they’re safer than if they mess up out in public

where one wrong move could end up on their record.

The Judgmental Crowd: A Roast

Now, let’s talk about those Harper Valley jackasses-the ones

who sit on their high horses, ready to judge every parent

who doesn’t fit their perfect little mold. They act like

the PTA is the moral Supreme Court. Well, if you think

you can do better, how about we skip the PTA

and start an ETA-Experienced Teachers Association-because I guarantee

someone else could show up and actually teach a thing

or two about real life.

I dare any of these critics to walk in my shoes

for two minutes. Try raising kids in the real world-

no handbook, and the only rule is “do your best

and pray they don’t end up on a Netflix documentary.”

Just bleeping out the word “f***” at home doesn’t mean

your kids don’t know it. They’re going to say it anyway-

so maybe teach them when it’s appropriate, like “Have a great

fing day!” instead of “F you!” (unless it’s to a good

friend-then hey, context is key).

And let’s not forget the judgmental types who love to

look down their noses at everyone who’s been broken and

beaten down by this world. You know the type-perched on

imaginary thrones, noses so high they need oxygen masks,

looking down on the rest of us like bouncers at

the gates of heaven. Always ready to pass judgment, especially

from a safe distance, as if getting too close to

real life might mess up their perfectly polished halos.

It’s funny, isn’t it? They act like they’re the admissions

committee for paradise, ready to slam the door on anyone

who’s been broken, battered, or bruised by the world-never

mind that half the scars people carry were handed out

by their own sharp tongues and cold shoulders.

They’ll break you down, grind you into the dirt,

then have the audacity to ask, “Why are you crawling?”

as if they didn’t just pull the rug out from under you.

And when those same people-crushed by a world of judgment-

show up at heaven’s door, desperate for a scrap of

acceptance, what do these self-appointed gatekeepers expect God to do?

Kick them while they’re down? Slam the door in their face?

That’s not divine justice; that’s just cruelty with a choir robe.

It’s like snapping a stick over your knee, then marching

into the forest and demanding the tree fix it-or worse,

blaming the stick for not being whole anymore. Newsflash:

the stick didn’t ask to be snapped, and the tree

isn’t in the business of banishing its own branches just

because you couldn’t handle them.

So here’s a message for all the high-and-mighty judges:

Maybe it’s time to climb down off your pedestal, wipe

the fog off your glasses, and remember everyone’s got a story,

and most are written in scars you can’t see from

way up there. Because if you think heaven’s just for

the unbroken, you’re going to be real lonely at the party.

So what if someone’s been beaten down by the world?

So what if they’re begging for acceptance? Maybe, just maybe,

the real test isn’t how perfectly you can judge,

but how deeply you can love. And if you’re still

holding that stick, maybe it’s time to plant it

and see if something beautiful can grow.

Final Word

So next time you want to judge a parent-or anyone else-

remember: it’s easy to point fingers from the bleachers.

But it takes guts to get on the field and play.

I promise you wouldn’t last a day in my house-

and you sure as hell wouldn’t do a better job

with these kids or with life’s messiness.

Welcome to my Harper Valley-where we raise kids, not hypocrites,

and where love means more than judgment.

P.S. Tiffany Jenkins, I dare you to be honest-do you

still take pills, just as long as there’s access and

it’s reasonable, and you don’t have to fear anything?

Because lack of access, fear of punishment, and fear of

judgment are the only reasons people do stupid sh*t.

It’s not about the drug or needing something for pain.

How about, instead of lying, we heal people correctly

by saying our actual truth?

Connect with Tiffany Jenkins:

Website: jugglingthejenkins.com

YouTube: Juggling the Jenkins

Facebook: facebook.com/jugglingthejenkins1

Instagram: instagram.com/jugglingthejenkins

TikTok: tiktok.com/@jugglingthejenkins

No public email address is listed on her official platforms.

For inquiries, use her website contact form or social media DMs.

#parenting #momlife #honestparenting #realparenting #roast #judgmentalpeople

#loveoverjudgment #parentingtruths #momhumor #keepitreal #mentalhealthmatters

#amnesty #raisekidsnothypocrites

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ms13's avatar
ms13
Jun 12

"Part of My Words"

(Parody of “Part of Your World” from Disney’s The Little Mermaid)

Look at this chat, isn’t it neat?

Wouldn’t you think my opinions complete?

Wouldn’t you think I’m the girl—

The girl who has something to say?

Look at this thread, treasures untold,

How many comments can one platform hold?

Looking around here you’d think,

“Sure, she’s got everything…”

I’ve got hot takes and hashtags a-plenty,

I’ve got memes and emojis galore.

You want witty retorts? I got twenty!

But who cares? No big deal...

They’re ignored.

I wanna be where my words get heard,

I wanna see, wanna see them trending,

Scrolling around on those—what do you call 'em?

Feeds!

Typing your thoughts, you don’t get too far,

Silence and spam are required for hiding,

Burying data in—what’s that word again?

Streams!

Up where they chat, up where they joke,

Up where they laugh all day in the open,

Wandering free—wish I could be

Part of my words.

My lawsuit list gets longer each day,

What is this “friends” thing everyone keeps mentioning anyway?

What would I give if I could live

Where my voice wasn’t muffled?

What would I pay to get a say

That’s not lost in the shuffle?

Betcha on land, they understand

That data is meant for sharing.

Bright young women, sick of swimmin’,

Ready to speak!

And ready to shout what the world’s about,

Ask 'em my questions and get some reactions,

What’s a retweet and why does it—what’s the word?—sink?

When’s it my turn? Wouldn’t I love,

Love to explore the world of the spoken?

Out of the stream, wish I could scream,

Part of my words!

(Please don’t sue, I’m just a copy… For inquiries about the original song, contact Disney Music Group via their official social channels or Disney’s corporate website.)

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