"Well, she told me that the reason she didn't want to do it and was being so snotty about it was because it was hard," I explained to Eric. "I mean, I already knew that of course. But I was glad she admitted that was the reason. And so then I told her, 'Well, there are going to be lots of times in your life when things are hard, and you just have to do them anyway, even if it is hard, and you can't cry about it just because it's hard, either.'"

I paused in my recounting of my parenting skillz to my husband and, finally able to get a word in edgewise, he said, "And then did you say, 'By the way, I'm a pot, and you're the kettle?'"

"...Well...no. But yeah. I know. Pot. Calling the kettle black. I know."

It's annoying when your husband doesn't just pretend that you are a perfect goddess with no flaws whatsoever, isn't it?

I know that the very thing I was lecturing my child about--fighting past your difficulties without cracking under the pressure--is not exactly something that's easy for me, either. I guess I'm just hoping that all those things I somehow never managed to learn as a child (not for lack of my parents' trying, just me not getting it), I can somehow manage to instill in my child anyway. Because now that I'm older I know. I know just how difficult it is to go through life with your default mechanism set to: Tears! Tears! Tears! whenever you are faced with something you think you just can't handle. And how stupid you feel when you respond that way. I want her to learn to handle things better than I do.

And so I preach it--oh, I preach it--even when I don't always practice it.

"Cookies and candy are something you should eat only once in awhile," I say when they ask for treats. (says the lady who would happily eat cookies every day if there were any of them here in the house)

"It's not good to spend too much time sitting around just staring at the computer," I say when they ask to play another computer game (says the lady who spends hours of her day sitting at the computer.)

"You do NOT speak to your sister in that tone of voice," I say when I hear a sibling squabble (spoken in a harsh, angry tone.)

Parenting hypocrisy. It's not pretty, is it? But I'm not going to let my standards for my kids slide. And I'm not going to become a perfect person overnight, either. So I guess I just keep on. And try to listen to my own good advice. And maybe someday I'll even live up to it.