Tamarah Rockwood

There comes a point in every writer’s life when their brain just refuses to work.

"Who puts folded shirts on top of your closet shelf? I can hardly reach the hangers, alone. Honestly, people."

The thing is, the more I watch this show, and the more I think back to the endless years in Start Up culture that we experienced, the more I keep thinking: “This is way too similar to parenting.”

6. You do not need to comment on what my child is or isn't doing. "That's too bad you don't have your kids enrolled in advanced chess. I have my kids in advanced chess, and lacrosse, and calculus, and..."

I worry about the food I give them. I worry about the clothes we have for them. I stress over the amount of time I spend with them . . . or don’t spend with them. When is it enough, and when is it overpowering?

I just wonder. . . if my daughter came home one day and said she couldn’t have a job because she was too old, how would that be right?

Yet, there is life beyond just t-shirt and jeans. There is more to an ensemble than denim and scarves.

What I am not saying: "I am now going to take this opportunity to rub in your face what an inadequate parent you are for not sacrificing your entire life to homeschool your children, who you obviously don't love."

Don’t say the following: “Maybe they’ll remember me!” “I bet they would love to get a message from me!” “Contacting the popular kids while we are in our 30s is a fantastic idea and doesn’t look desperate at all!”

The truth is, my kids are not going to grow a deeper character thanks to perfect floors. Granted, it will make life easier for me, no doubt: there are few things that make my stomach drop than walking into a room that I just cleaned, and seeing a spoonful of peanut butter just sitting on the floor (I have an accomplished toddler). Peanut butter on the floor, or on the counter, or on the tablecloth — or anywhere other than on a piece of bread — is frustrating.