I love my kids, I just hate parenting
When you’re a kid, you just don’t understand.
You’re just doing your thing, trying something new, exploring something new, eyes on the prize, when all of a sudden Daddy appears out of nowhere, grabs you, and starts yelling in your face.
You’re scared. But what your puny, inexperienced brain doesn’t realize is, that despite all appearances, Daddy is even more scared than you.
You may have noticed that the blog has been a tad quiet of late, and that’s because the family has been doing a little traveling.
We drove up north. We drove because we wanted to stay flexible, schedule-wise, and because airlines inexplicably charge full-price once your kid turns two-years-old so he can have a seat. But I’d gladly let him sit on my lap for two hours. Deal with occasionally getting kicked, fatso next to me!
The driving made the travel longer, made the use of the computer impossible (hence reduced blog posts), and made me question why I didn’t put my son in a kennel because he’s the one child on earth who doesn’t sleep in the car and man does he get annoying!
But a funny thing happened near the end of the trip.
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.
Hey kiddo,
You may remember I wrote a similar letter on Mother’s Day, in which I begged you to behave so that your mom could relax and enjoy her special Sunday.
This letter is a little different. For one thing, this letter is about me, not about Mommy, so I can speak a bit more freely. For another, until football starts, Sundays are pretty much meaningless to me. Even this coming one.
I don’t think toddlers and dogs are the same thing (except when they kind of are). No one could possibly think that.
For one thing, dogs have fur. For another, dogs can be trained. They’ll actually listen to commands. You can use a leash without getting strange looks and, as mentioned above, your wife can even carry certain kinds of dogs in her purse. You can’t do that with toddlers. But sometimes I wish you could.
Taking toddlers places is stressful AF!