Punk Rock Parenting

What happens when punk rockers become parents? You go from not brushing your teeth and pulling your faded black “Fuck Emo” shirt out of the closet to wear to see whatever show is happening that Friday (or Tuesday) night, and find yourself thrown into a world of shitty pants, puked on shirts, and waking up with what feels like the worst hangover you’ve ever had… Kinda sounds like the morning after a show, doesn’t it?

Welcome to the world of punk rock parenting. While many are all too aware of the fact that punk is far from dead, in fact it’s timeless, many old school punks are waking up each morning finding that we’re getting fucking old. We have to get jobs. And pay bills. And our fuck society middle fingers are forced with the ultimatum of pay the light bill or live in the brutal cold winter for a few weeks (been there) or on a friends couch (there too). And we’ve also found ourselves hit with the fact that “holy shit. We’ve become parents.” Sure, they start out all tiny and cute… but then they get bigger… and go to school… and your bright blue hair is instantly criticized by the Gucci bag totin’ money-moms or the dad’s that pay for those Gucci bag totin’ money-moms. And you’ve got a tiny version of yourself that you have to show the ropes. What’s okay, and not okay, by society’s standards… While also upholding your own true beliefs and what drew you to punk rock in the first place. It’s a constant battle, and the whole time you’re keeping your fingers crossed that you aren’t utterly screwing your kid up. 

How do you find that balance? Easy. Take them to go see NOFX… after t-ball practice… I have a kid, and I am also insanely lucky to be married to an awesome guy (and guitarist of our band) who helps me find that middle ground with our kid. Raising a little one is tough, and as hardcore as we may think we are, it takes one look or the first time you hear your kid asks to listen to the Misfits, to change your world forever. And to also make you realize that you’re doing the best you can. And that’s all any parent can do, punk rocker---or Gucci toter.

The weird thing is, that when we find out we’re bringing a kid into the world, it’s a bit overwhelming, but, as they grow up, you do too in a sense. You stick by your morals, with your middle finger still raised in the air, but you also learn to put someone else’s needs before your own. And that my friends, is punk rock parenting, at its finest.