I Literally Don’t Have The Energy To Gentle Parent Anymore

“Put. Your. Pajamas. On,” I snarl at my 5-year-old. It’s been 20 twenty minutes since we got upstairs to start the bedtime routine, and, once again, gentle parenting has failed me. Or maybe I’ve failed at gentle parenting. Whatever. Either way, I literally don’t have the energy to do it anymore.

Here’s how the bedtime interaction is supposed to go (I think). She tells me she wants to keep playing. I tell her I know she must be frustrated that it’s time to go to bed and I know how she feels, and how about I set a timer for two minutes so that she can wrap up what she’s doing? After the timer goes off, I give her the choice of putting on pajamas or brushing her teeth first to give her autonomy, and she cheerfully puts on her pajamas with no complaints. We give each other a big hug before she goes to sleep.

Yeah, OK. Am I the only one who thinks this is absolutely delusional?

But that’s how it should go, according to all the scenarios you’ll find online that promise gentle parenting is the way to make sure your kids turn out alright.

Only here’s how it’ll really go down.

After the two-minute timer, she’ll dramatically thrash herself onto the floor and declare that I’m the worst mom ever. At which point I’ll grit my teeth and calmly ask her about the tooth brushing or pajama picking. She’ll choose pajamas and then dilly-dally about instead of actually putting them on and explode at me when I ask her for the fifth time to put them on, pretty please, like we discussed.

So then I’ll — check notes — acknowledge that she’s frustrated and angry with me because I’ve asked her to do something so many times, and tell her I’m going to help her put on her pajamas because it seems like she’s having trouble doing it. That’ll go over like a lead balloon, and she’ll go “boneless” when I try to pick her up to put them on, and we’ll be back to the feeling acknowledging part. It’s starting to feel like an alternative, hellish version of If You Give a Mouse A Cookie or something.

Hence the eventual snarl, which I know for sure is a no in the gentle parenting handbook. But seriously, how else is that situation going to actually get resolved so I can get her to bed before getting maybe five to seven minutes to myself before I head to bed? I can’t do it anymore.

Look, there’s a lot about the concept of gentle parenting that I like. I want to help my kids identify what they’re feeling, and I want them to know I empathize with them. I want them to feel nurtured and loved. But can we talk about how much energy and time gentle parenting takes day in and day out?

It’s all-consuming, and frankly, I’m too tired to keep doing it. If you have the energy to do it all the time, I salute you. Please tell me the secret. I’ll even buy a digital course from you... if there’s a money-back guarantee. But I’m not doing it anymore.

I laugh to myself when I think of pre-mom me, as pious and obnoxious as they come, chatting with my husband. “We’re always going to put in the effort to do it the right way, even if it’s harder,” I remember us agreeing, telling ourselves the outcome would be worth it in the end.

Serving two dinners? No way, not us. Staying in the bedroom while our kid falls asleep? Absolutely not. Sticking to the gentle parenting script, even if it takes hours, so that our kids know we love them? 100% yes, we’d be monsters if we didn’t.

Turns out it’s a lot easier to role-play scenarios when the actual screaming child isn’t present.

I just can’t do the gentle parenting dance anymore. Is that selfish of me? Are my kids going to be screwed up for life now? Let’s go with a maybe for both, though I’d argue that, given the state of the world, they’re going to be screwed up whether you gentle parent or not.

Here’s what I’ve decided on instead. I can give my kids one round of gentle parenting negotiations. And then, depending on the situation, I’m either turning into mean mommy or f*ck around and find out mommy.

You’re not going to bed? OK, I see you, I hear you, I understand. But for the love of God, if you don’t get into that bed right now, I will start throwing your toys away. You don’t want to wear a coat when it’s 20 degrees outside? OK, sure. Let me know when your fingers are frozen, and we’ll revisit the conversation. And yes, as I zip your coat, I will remind you that I am in fact smarter than you and was right.

It feels more realistic to me to parent this way. It’s not one style, it’s an amalgamation of anything and everything that might work. Let’s call it the DGAF method? Devoted, Gentle, Authoritative, F*ck-Around parenting.

I love you, I see you, I want what’s best for you. I don’t want to yell at you, but I’m running the ship and am going to be firm, maybe even raise my voice at times if needed, or let you find out the consequences on your own if it makes sense.

So bye, gentle parenting, don’t let the door hit you on the way out.

Elliott Harrell is a Raleigh, NC-based freelance writer with two little girls who runs a sales team by day and writes about things she's passionate about, like women's health, parenting, and food, at night. In addition to Scary Mommy, her work can be found in PS, The Everymom, Motherly, Business Insider, Eater, and more. When she's not doing laundry, she can be found making a mess in her kitchen with a new recipe or working on her latest needlepoint project.