The Story of My Life

The Story of My Life

Most parent bloggers have a gimmick, even if we don’t call it one or think of it that way.

Maybe you’re the “creative dad” or the “do-it-yourself dad” or the “sensitive dad” or the “tattooed mom” or “the vodka-drinking mom” or the “traveling mom”. Or maybe you filter every parenting experience through an “I’m a gay parent” or “I’m a single mom” or “I’m a stay-at-home dad” or “I have twins.” We all have a hook. I’m no exception.

Of course we do! With so many of us churning out post after post on the same handful of topics – say what you will about how unique your kid is or how groundbreaking your parenting style is, we’re all faced with the same issues and we all celebrate the same milestones – we need some kind of hook. Without them we’ll float away.

But does there come a point when our blogs, and even our lives, become so weighed down by the manufacturing of these moments, by constantly feeding these hooks, that it becomes detrimental? Are we straining so hard for attention that our lives are becoming artificial?

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Bet On It

Bet On It

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?

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Guy Anxiety

Guy Anxiety

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.

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Single Parenting is Hard

Single Parenting is Hard

I’m a single parent* this week.

My wife is out-of-town, so I’ll be watching my threenager without her assistance for a good ten days. I’ll be responsible for feeding him and getting him dressed and getting him to bed and giving him his bath and telling him no and weathering his tantrums and telling him no and weathering his tantrums and telling him no and…

I’m not nervous about being alone with my son for a week; even though I’m not a stay-at-home dad anymore, I’m alone with my son all the time. I’m his dad and dads are parents too, contrary to popular opinion. The occasional bout of single parenting is part of the job, and I’m used to it.

But just because I can do it doesn’t mean I want to. Single parenting is hard!

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