For the third week this month, Mom and Buried is traveling and I’m on my own with my kid.
DON’T PANIC. We’re okay.
Sure, maybe the first time my wife went away I was all: what am I gonna do? But several weeks in and now I’m all: ain’t no thing but a chicken wing on a string. I’m a real-life dad, not a Seth Macfarlane character; I can handle it. Newsflash: it’s parenting, not the Thunderdome, and dads can do it just as well as moms.
I’d even venture to say we do it better.
Over the weekend, professional golfer Rory McIlroy won the Open Championship. In the process he netted $1.66 million.
His father, meanwhile, scored big himself, having placed a bet in 2005 that his son would win the Open Championship by 2015. Daddy McIlroy collected (approximately) $171,000 merely for having confidence in his son’s golfing ability.
Which got me thinking…
What would I bet on my own son to accomplish within the next 10 years?
Last week, when I asked my Facebook followers for topic ideas, someone suggested I tackle the mixed feelings parents have when their kids misbehave. Which almost sounds crazy. Why would anyone have anything but bad feelings when their kids misbehave?
Then, earlier this week, I got yelled at by a bunch of people who got angry that I let my son run rampant on airplanes. Never mind that I don’t do that, and that my son has (thus far) been very well-behaved on airplanes; these people said HURTFUL things that MADE ME CRY.
And it got me reconsidering that reader’s request, especially since I suddenly and strongly want my kid to misbehave on our next flight, just out of spite.
If you are one of the nearly 7000 people (dupes!) who follow my Facebook page, you probably got annoyed last week when I asked you for topic suggestions. Sue me; I had some writer’s block.
And I have bigger things to worry about than your happiness. As one of my readers reminded me with her suggested topic: Mums suffer from constant ridiculous anxieties re our kids. Like is he eating enough, has dad put his woolly hat on properly, will he get to college if he doesn’t get into the right nursery… and is he eating enough? How about you share your worst and most ludicrous dad anxieties?
Let me start by saying that a propensity for parenting anxiety can’t be so neatly divided by gender. I am often more paranoid and unnecessarily protective of my son than Mom and Buried is, and I think that just comes down to personality. But you’re right, Anonymous Reader: WOMEN BE CRAZY.
Many people don’t like giving advice, but not me. I don’t like giving directions (the only person who has a worse sense of direction than me is Mr. Magoo) but I love giving advice. Especially when it’s unsolicited. Which, unfortunately, it’s not. Because I asked you to ask me questions.
Despite having no training or authority or expertise in any arena aside from Movie Pong and The Kevin Bacon Game, I think I’m pretty good at the advice game. I’m a good listener and have given some friends some pretty good objective advice in the past, helpful, thoughtful advice that has (presumably) improved their relationships and (obviously) elevated my status in their lives.
But that’s not what I do here, with my “Parental Advisories”. No, here I play God with other people’s families.
Come and join me!