Carry On

This road that I'm on, that we're on. It can kill you. In a thousand different ways. It can come at you. From a thousand different angles. But always starts. And ends. With the kids.

This is the first quiet moment I've had all week. But it feels much longer. And I'm tired. To my bones. Both kids have been sick with coughing and colds. They haven't been sleeping well. Neither have we. I'm still waiting for a call back from The Walking Dead. I sent them our audition tapes. I think we're perfect.

O'sonho = Dream

I can hardly fit into my pants. I refuse to buy new clothes. I love good food. I'm screwed.

But my-god-im-a-father-of-two-now-just-let-me-eat.

I'm sure some human expert (an expert on being human) will tell me that I shouldn't reward myself with food, thus turning myself into an animal, much like giving a dog treats for being a good boy. But oh the treats.

Research like a big boy.

We see our pediatrician once a month for baby check-ups and vaccinations. It’s the only time I don’t mind seeing the doctor. I have this unexplainable unnatural fear of doctors. Which is why they can never get an accurate blood pressure reading from me. The thought of an examination gets my heart pumping even if my mind is as quiet as a deserted island. Perhaps because my deserted island is the island in LOST.

image from http://lostpedia.wikia.com/wiki/Lost

You! Me! Impossible shapes!

You know, it took a while. It really did. But I think my wife is starting to get it now. I cannot multi-task. I mean, I can try but usually I cause more damage than accomplishing the actual tasks.

There are times when she forgets. And hilarity ensues. But when she remembers, we return to our presets. Our factory default settings if you will.

I don’t work well with having too many options. I drown under them. I just want to have a few select choices and go from there. Like, if I’m supposed to do something, I just want to do it and not agonize about the bajillion ways on how to do it.

My wife though, is all about the how. GRRRRR!!!!!!!!

And this is the source of a good chunk of our “discussions”. As new parents, all of us, a lot of our anxieties and worries come from not knowing. Because this is our first time. Of course we don’t know. So we research, we read up, we google, we join parenting forums, we read blogs, we WebMD, we post our worries on facebook and hope to god someone, anyone replies with an answer.

And you know what you get? A whole lot of options. There are a millions ways on how to raise your kid and all of them sound valid. Or at least until the 2^nd edition comes out. Then all you know is false.

So yeah, as parents, we’ve agreed that she does certain things her way and I do certain things my way. And we’re still being parents. We’re still dad and mom. We’re still a parental unit. And it’s what makes our parenting different from anyone else’s. And isn’t that how it should be anyway?

My worry is, we live in a society where everything is standardized, starting with our education. We’re learning the same things, taught how to think in the same way. So of course we’d think that we should raise all our children in the same way too.

But it just doesn’t feel natural to me, having to force fit myself or my child into doing things a certain way just because someone in a dentists’ jacket tells me to. And don’t you think that living in a society where all the children were all the same colors and shapes is just a little… children of the corn-ish.

You’d miss out on all the unimaginable colors and all the impossible shapes they could be.

Same thing goes for us. You’re not going to find out who you are as a parent in a book. But this is the part that I like the most, you’re gonna give your child something no one else can, you’re gonna give them you.

Extraterrestrial

The other day I found myself saying something I never thought I'd say.

"Are you going to the Expo Kid thing tomorrow?"

In that moment I felt like a TV dad. The kind of dad you watch on sitcoms. The one who always knows what to do, the one with the unwavering moral compass, the one who's always in the garage fixing the car available for an impromptu pep talk. Well, that moment didn't last long. And while I don't desire to become anything like a TV dad (who in reality, become abusive alcoholics anyway) it was nice sounding like one.