Somewhere between Mary Poppins and an exploding whale.
If aliens landed on Earth, and let's say they reproduced asexually—maybe they just split in half and BAM full grown second alien—they would probably be like, what is this parenting thing? I think I would have to say, it is best described as trying (sometimes unsuccessfully) to suppress the urge to yell "SHUT UP!" over and over again until you explode like a dead, bloated whale.
And also, it is the most rewarding, magical experience in the world.
I mean, kids are super cute. Except when they are not.
And being a mom has made me a better person. Except when I am like, Empty Threats McGee or I'm dreaming about running away from home, just like when I was ten and my parents were being super unfair. Except now I'm a grown up. So that’s not okay, you know?
My point is, I thought I’d be a lot more like Mary Poppins as a mother. Except for the singing. I have a really awful singing voice. But everything else.