What is it about parenting writing these days that makes everything such a hate-read? In between work and picking up your kids from this place and dropping them off at that place and shoving food in your mouth and sitting in doctor’s office waiting rooms and trying to talk your toddler down from a massive freakout over that sandwich you cut on the diagonal, you idiot, and turning off the TV and turning on the iPad and packing a change of clothes in case the sprinklers are on at the playground and unpacking uneaten lunches and putting on that helmet and taking off that helmet and washing bottle parts and washing body parts and getting fooled every single night into thinking that your kid is actually going to go to sleep after one more book, why are we hate-reading the Internet to figure out what kind of parent to be? And why are there so many kinds?
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