I was having a week. The kind of week when every decision I made seemed to be the wrong one. When my patience was a unicorn that had flown somewhere very, very far away. I was a cranky old ogre with barely enough time for a shower and the thought of speaking to anyone in the outside world made me really want a nap.

And then I had to go to a parent-teacher conference.

I don’t know how other people feel about these things, but they always fill me with a weird anxiety—ok, so maybe a lot of things fill me with anxiety, but this is sort of weird, anxious dread. I know I’m going in to talk about one of my daughters, but I always feel like I’m walking in to be judged.

Oh thaaaaaat’s why this kid never shuts up.
How old is this girl?
Is this hot mess really capable of taking care of another human?

Ridiculous? Yes. But that’s kind of the thing about anxiety, isn’t it? So I walk in, immediately more awkward than normal. And I’m pretty awkward.

One of the most important things to me as a mother—aside from raising strong, opinionated girls who stand up for what they believe in—is planting the seeds necessary for my kids to grow into loving, caring, giving, kind adults.

This desire—which, to be honest, is more like an obsession—has only grown stronger since the horrific events in Paris this weekend. As if terror and bloodshed wasn’t enough, the hate that volleyed around social media made me even more nauseous.

I believe fiercely in the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.: Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.

I also believe that working your hardest to raise caring, compassionate, kind humans is infinitely more effective in making the world a better place than sitting behind your computer spewing hate.

Parenting is not easy and no parent is perfect. I am the first one to jump up and admit that. That said, I do think there are a few things you can do to get a leg up in the Raising Kind Humans Department. Spoiler alert: they all include modeling kind behavior.

What is it with Daniel Tiger? Any kid I know who has watched that guy is completely mesmerized by him. And any mother I know spends her days singing his songs in hopes of somehow dislodging them from her brain.

I might not remember what I’m supposed to do today, but I sure as hell can sing to you about getting to the potty on time.

The more I thought about this, the more I began to believe that that tricky little tiger has an ulterior motive.

The Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood website says that “Through imagination, creativity and music, Daniel and his friends learn the key social skills necessary for school and for life.” What they neglect to mention is that he’s also sending out secret messages to moms.

Usually I wear multitasking like a bad ass badge of honor. Yes, I answered emails while carrying a whiny preschooler on my hip and navigating an extra large cart around the grocery store like a champ. Because I’m a BOSS.

Only not really.

Because, when I’m being totally honest with myself, multitasking never results in a job well done. My email will be partially incoherent, I’ll inevitably forget something essential at the store and my four year old and I will be so irritated with each other that we’ll both be whining shrilly and ready to full-on tantrum by the time I slam the trunk of the car.

When your attention is split in 87 different directions you can’t possibly do a good job.

So why do we (women in particular) place so much of our self worth on exactly how many balls we have up in the air?

It was early summer. I was sticky and the sun was hot and I wandered our neighborhood trying desperately to get my baby to take a nap and maybe make myself feel like I had this motherhood thing down. My baby, however, had different ideas. She had shown signs of impending divahood very early on. From wailing until I held her, no matter how hard her dad tried to rock her into submission to screaming throughout the entire 45-minute car ride to visit my mom (every. single. time), low maintenance this child was not.

I was trying hard to get a handle on it, trying to fit all of the pieces of the puzzle together to figure out how best to deal with her little personality.