Pants-Free Parenting: Fear of being outnumbered, overtaken is real

Let them Eat Cake. (Yes, I know Marie Antoinette didn't actually say that. Humor me.)

It was almost dinner time and my two children were pulling on my legs, whining for cookies or juice or anything besides the real food I was going to make for them. Because I'm a monster, I settled them into the kitchen table with water and oranges. They were quiet for a while, peeling off the sections of oranges and lining them up on the table. They are both blonde with cheeks that look like they are hiding food from a squirrel. Then, they looked up at me and I was suddenly afraid that they knew my secret: My rule over this house is a farce.

At any moment they could realize that they out number me. At any moment they could realize that they can actually make me cry and then, the coup would begin.

They didn't. At least not that day. But I live in fear.

I now understand why tyrant kings and rulers exist, because rule is tenuous. You are always one insurrection away from telling people to eat cake and losing your head.

I am one of eight children. My mother was often the lone parent at home with all of us. And it did occur to us to start a revolution. We hid rubber snakes in the sink and taped 'Kick Me” signs to my mother's back before she would go run errands. When my parents insisted that we court instead of date - the basic difference is that parents approve the date and it is supervised - we all calmly listened and proceeded to do just the opposite. My sister snuck out to date. My brother brought his girlfriends' home and my parents said nothing, like it wasn't an outright flaunting of the rules. I like to think I would have been so bold if anyone had dared to ask me out before I was in college, but I never had the chance to prove my revolutionary fervor.

My mom once remarked to a friend, 'Well, it's not that I let them date, they just do.”

This is exactly why I'm afraid. Not because I'm going to try and make my kids court. It's already too late for that anyway, my four-year-old has decided that she is dating her best friend and that they will marry and that the wedding will have a pony, a pool and a very big princess bounce house. (We didn't let her get engaged at such a young age, she just did.)

I'm afraid because I realize something that I don't think many children do, that parents have no special gifts or talents, no sort of magical ability that comes with age that imbues them with life-giving, parenting power.

It is overwhelming to graduate from college and face the world and think, 'Wait, did I miss something? Some adult thing that was supposed to make me good at this?” It's the same feeling I had when I went home from the hospital with my daughter. Wait, I still feel like myself, except with an ice-pack on my privates. Did I miss some sort of mother moment? The one where the fairy godmother makes me in charge?

I've been parenting for four years now and nothing has changed. I still know so little. I often look at my children and wonder where they came from, why they all look like mini-versions of my husband disapproving of me, and what do we do now?

I understand now that parenting is a lot of faking it until they are 18. And I do fake it. I fill out forms with authority. I demand manners at the table and for chores to be completed. Then, when everyone is in bed, I eat a lot of cake and try my best not to lose my head.

' Lyz Lenz is a writer, mother of two and hater of pants. Email her at eclenz@gmail.com or find her writing at LyzLenz.com.