Last night, while simultaneously making dinner, listening to my son “in the learning curves” (thanks Dr. Becky!) of reading, and stressing over summer camps (yes I am behind!), I found myself wondering: when exactly did parenting become this complicated?

It's May—or as I call it, "Maycember"—that magical time when every school, activity, and social obligation converges into a perfect storm of end-of-year madness. Between the recitals, field trips, class parties, and teacher gifts, I'm basically running a small logistics company from my phone while managing pick up and after school activities for two tiny dictators (they are cute and insanely lovable).

So I did what any overtired mom of two would do: I researched parenting trends over the last 30 years instead of sleeping. (Data is my comfort blanket—thanks, Emily Oster influence!)

When Parenting Was Analog

Remember 1995? I was busy collecting Beanie Babies (shout to Santa Barbara.. IYKYK), not children, but the research paints a clear picture. Parents back then had a few trusted resources: maybe What to Expect When You're Expecting, their pediatrician's advice (during actual in-person visits!), and whatever wisdom Grandma shared during Sunday phone calls.

With internet access in just 21% of American homes, there were no 2AM Google spirals about "rash looks like strawberry normal???" or Instagram experts telling you that you're doing everything wrong.

Cut to today…. (cue overstimulation):

• Amazon offers over 60,000 parenting books (I own at least 12, all partially read)
• My Instagram feed is filled with parenting coaches offering conflicting advice
• I've got 7 parenting podcasts in my library (Dr. Becky's "Good Inside" being my personal lifeline and “She Pivots” being my inspo for Hayden!)
• And the Facebook groups with 400+ passionate comments where conversations about nannies, mental load and how to register or find the “right” school have me somewhere between grabbing popcorn and shame spiraling

The result? Last week I spent 45 minutes paralyzed in the grocery aisle reading labels because I couldn't remember if the current consensus was "organic matters" or "pesticide fear is overblown." More information has somehow led to less confidence. Needless to say, I have decision fatigue. As my daughter would say: why mommy.

From Free-Range to Helicopter (and Everything in Between)

Here's what the data shows: In 1969, about 48% of kids walked to school independently. By 2009, only 13% did.

I still remember my mom's parenting instructions: "Be home when the streetlights come on." Meanwhile, I've got a GPS tracker on my 3-year-old’s lovey at the playground across the street.

The strangest part? Child safety has maybe actually improved. Violent crime peaked in the early '90s before declining significantly. But between 24-hour news and viral social media horror stories, approximately 70% of us parents live with constant safety anxiety.

Just last month, I let my kids play in our fenced backyard while I made dinner—and found myself peeking out the window every 90 seconds "just to check." My mother would laugh herself silly at this.

Today's parenting job description has expanded beyond "keep them alive and reasonably well-behaved" to include managing screen time, supporting emotional intelligence, monitoring academic progress, ensuring proper socialization, and curating enriching experiences—all while maintaining our own well-being. (How's that going for everyone? Because I'm currently hiding in the bathroom eating the good chocolate I don't share with the kids.)

Parental Burnout: It's Not Just You

The statistics validate what we're all feeling:

• 66% of parents believe parenting is harder now than 20 years ago (umm, yes)
• 41% report stress levels so high they struggle to function most days
• 48% describe their parenting stress as overwhelming
• 62% experience symptoms of burnout

Last Tuesday, I found myself crying in the car after dropping the kids at school because I'd forgotten to send my daughter with her library book AND it was apparently "wear blue" day (news to me) AND I was late for a work meeting. The mom parked next to me gave me that knowing nod that said, "Been there yesterday."

Meanwhile, we're working more than ever. Moms like me clock an average of 27 hours weekly (up from 21 hours in 1985) while somehow also spending 40% MORE time on direct childcare than previous generations.

During last month's spring break, I took work calls while supervising swimming, answered emails during movie time, and stayed up until 1AM finishing presentations. My own mother's jaw dropped when I walked her through my typical day. "But when do you rest?" Good question, Mom.

Where Did Our Village Go?

Perhaps the most heartbreaking statistic: 38% of parents report having NO ONE they can rely on for parenting support. None. Zero. Zilch.

When my son had a sudden norovirus last month and my daughter had school across town, I experienced that primal panic of having no backup. My parents live in another country and frankly couldn’t help even if they had an inclination to be of support (we had kids later in life). My husband was traveling for work. I ended up sticking my kid in the car and alas we did not make it back home without an accident. Not my idea of amazing.

Several factors have created this isolation:

• Our families live thousands of miles away
• I barely know my neighbors beyond a quick wave
• Community connections have weakened
• Childcare costs have increased 26% over the past decade (currently my largest expense after housing)

As a dual income household, I've had full conversations with my coffee maker just to hear an adult voice before 8AM. I start to have a mild/not so mild desperation in my voice as I not so subtly ask my friend for a drink (while my nanny makes dinner) just to breathe.

Finding Better Ways Forward: Our Certification Approach

After experiencing these challenges firsthand (and hearing countless similar stories), we developed our Universal Child Safety Certification and soon a Childcare Certification program with several key principles:

• Foundation Rather Than Limitation: As a data-minded parent (I've read every Emily Oster book twice), I appreciate how these certifications establish evidence-based standards without prescribing one "right" parenting style. Just like Dr. Becky says, there are many ways to be a good parent—we're creating a baseline, not a ceiling.
  
  
• Collaborative Development: Our certification guidelines come from real conversations between childhood development experts, safety specialists, and parents in the trenches. No more sorting through contradictory advice from strangers on the internet!
  
  
• Empowerment Through Clarity: When my daughter was born, I obsessively researched every safety recommendation. With my son, I just wanted clear, trustworthy guidance. That's exactly what these certifications provide—freedom from the mental load of constant research.
  
  
• Community Connection: We will have the world’s largest repository of childcare providers - certified and badged up. Just think the LinkedIn, Carta and Google for caregivers.
  
  

In my own parenting journey, having clear standards and a supportive community has been the difference between surviving and thriving during seasons like "Maycember." When my calendar has 27 end-of-year events packed into three weeks, I don't have time to research conflicting safety recommendations or reinvent parenting wheels.

For parents seeking relief from the cycle of information overload and isolation, our certification programs offer a path toward more confident, connected parenting.

The past thirty years have transformed parenting from "doing your best with limited information" to "drowning in advice while feeling increasingly alone." Our certifications help bridge this gap by providing clarity and community when families need it most.

I'd love to hear from you! Has the information explosion ultimately helped or complicated your parenting? How do you manage during intense seasons like "Maycember"? Drop a comment below—consider it your virtual village for today.