Having four children, three of them under six, hasn’t magically morphed me into Mary Poppins either. If anything, motherhood seems to have pushed me even further into territory more fitting of Batman than a loving Christian mother.
When I was still a perfect parent–living under my parents’ roof, wearing clothes they bought for me, talking on the phone (a landline!) they paid for; I swore I would never treat my children the way my parents treated me. I wouldn’t keep my children from doing what they wanted, make them do chores, or tell them no. I would be different. I’d understand them, and treat them with “respect”.