06 Aug

Dad and Buried Posted in discipline 4 comments

The Universal Parenting Collective

I wasn’t one of those people who used the phrase “we’re pregnant.” For one thing, that phrase diminishes the role the mother plays in childbirth, and considering that the mother’s role encompasses pretty much the whole enchilada, saying “we’re” seemed disingenuous and potentially insulting.

For another, saying it makes me feel like a douchebag.

Aside from including myself as a member of the Miami Dolphins (the 12th man!) or the Boston Red Sox (but I’ve never liked the “Red Sox Nation” thing), I’m not one to use “we” for much of anything. I’m a loner, Dottie. A rebel. But I do find myself invoking some mysterious, all-encompassing “we” when explaining something to my son.

I don’t know where “we” came from. And we don’t like it.

09 Jul

Dad and Buried Posted in Future 8 comments

I Don’t Use Baby Talk

Years ago, before I had kids, I was walking across a park with a friend when a little boy of about 4 or 5 wandered by. I looked at him and said, “Hello, how are you?”

Confused by my formality, the kid scrunched his face and quickly scampered away. I felt like a narc.

My friend laughed at my bizarre attempt to engage the toddler, noting that I clearly had no idea how to talk to children. He was right. Now that I have a child of my own, I know a little better.

But my approach hasn’t necessarily changed. I don’t use baby talk. Read more about I Don’t Use Baby Talk …

30 Jun

Dad and Buried Posted in Future 6 comments

Sacrifice Try?

My son has recently become obsessed with playing baseball, waking up every morning and immediately demanding to take some cuts with his plastic bat (and Red Sox ball. REPRESENT!).

I think it’s great that he’s into the sport; it’s a hell of a lot safer than football and I’m glad he’s showing more interest in it than in something like soccer. But it’s gonna hurt when I crush his dreams. Or, more to the point, when his body does.

Sorry, kid. You don’t have the genes for sports.

Dream Cheater

I recently read Keith Richards’s autobiography. I read it to learn more about the recording of some of his band’s seminal albums, and about how he survived doing so many drugs but it got me thinking about what I would do if my son decided to he wanted to be an axman. While describing his childhood, Keith never really discusses what his parents thought of his choice of career, making it seem like they were just bystanders while he chased his dream. Maybe they were, maybe they weren’t, maybe he doesn’t remember their names. But it got me thinking.

I don’t yet know what my son’s dreams will be, but I plan to support them as best I can. The thing is, as a parent I’m sure to have a different perspective on his life and his dreams than he does. Mostly because, by virtue of being older and having lived more life, I have some perspective – which can be both valuable and damaging, and he doesn’t – which can also be both valuable and damaging. The young and the ~~old~~ less-young usually disagree on where the value lies.

This is a source of conflict.

Happy Father’s Day

I hope whatever gifts you get – or give – get a better reception than that clown Jimmy Olsen’s!

Dad and Buried

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The Universal Parenting Collective

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