Perfectly valid, justified rant.
They can't live up to the standards they set for their own children, and crumble at the first hurdle.
That reminds me of something related. The JW organization, through a video, urged children to give up their ice cream and then donate to the org the money they could have used for such. However, GB member Tony Morris was video-recorded buying hundreds of dollars worth of fine Scotch, and in general, JW adults don't give up their "ice cream" money. But, oh, the children, they can give up theirs. It should be the other way around.
Also, I grew up in the 70's and 80's - a time when long hair on guys was in style. However, during that time I was taken by my JW mother to barbershops and given brutal buzzcuts. I would feel sick having to go to school the next day after a buzzcut and stand out when all the other guys had longer hair. However, during this time I remember my mother's being deeply concerned about her own hair and wanting to be in style. She was deeply concerned about her looks. She would always get a suntan before some event, get her hair colored, etc., yet, when it came to me and my looks and my wanting to fit in, oh, it didn't matter. Oh, it's just hair.. who cares? She couldn't put herself in my place. The sixth, seventh, and eighth grades were hard on me because of the way I stood out because of my hair.
Another one: I was allowed to play sports because my dad was not a JW. In the eight grade, I was on the football "B" team (junior varsity). I had a game on a Thursday night. My mother was driving me to the game, but, on the way, she stopped to pick up a friend of hers who was going. They were taking their time, engaging in shallow, stupid gossip and small talk, etc. The clock was ticking and I was getting nervous because I didn't want to be late. On the way, I mentioned something to my mother about the time and she just passed it off as if it didn't matter. When we arrived, the team was already on the field. I had to run to the dressing room, put on my pads and uniform, and run down the hill to the football field. Back then (1970's), coaches did stuff to us that would literally get them arrested today. One thing they would do to us for punishment was make us lie on the ground during practice and have about ten or fifteen other guys pile on top of us. We couldn't expand our lungs and breathe. It was like drowning. I saw guys cry because of the treatment. I had that done to me for being late. So, my being late might have been insignificant to my mother, but it wasn't to me; I got severely punished for it. She didn't want to be late for things important to her, but it didn't matter if I was late to things important to me.
To this day, I resent my mother for such things... like the double standard. She has not changed; she's still like she was back then.