We're in to month 4 of our first child, giving us enough time to appreciate and absorb all those typically "new parent" experiences. There's the initial "will I break my baby" phase, the "thanks for the baby clothes, grandma" period, the "OK, enough with the baby clothes, grandma" period, and the "ooh, (s)he's so advanced for her age" game. Like, when your baby blurts out something at three months old, and you can swear she said "rubella", so naturally you figure your baby will have a medical degree at age four. Then she swallows her hand, and you start to doubt her early doctor career.
I'm noticing some funny double standards along the way as a father. Like for instance, I was at the auto store picking up parts for our car while carrying our daughter in a car seat carrier. I get to the counter, and the clerk remarks humorously, "stuck babysitting the kid, hunh?" It sounded funny for a second, because I wasn't carrying someone else's kid - it was Elena, my daughter. I think that just classifies as being a Dad. For a second, I wanted to say to Elena, "what?! Where'd you come from?! Dammit, where's your mother at? Well ain't this a b-tch, I guess I'm stuck with her now, hunh?!"
It's funny, but the expectations for Dad’s are real low. Basically, Mom's are expected to raise a child properly, instill the right values, serve as a good role model, provide good nutrition, console all emotional pains, and make sure the house in general runs smoothly. On the other hand, Fathers are expected to keep children under their care generally alive,... and that's about it. Looking at our parents’ generation, I can see how this standard was set. To this day, my Dad doesn't know what to do with a washing machine. He built machines that built machines in his time, but when a washing machine is finished spinning, he considerately yells to my mom, "Jen! Your laundry's done! Come take care of it! Jen!!" He treats it like some alien incubation box that holds technology outside of his grasp.
Seriously, when you see a commercial with a father clumsily herding a wild group of children by himself, it's endearing and you feel sympathetic. When you see a mom who can't control her children, the message seems more like "this woman obviously can't handle the role her biological makeup has handed her."
That's why I don't typically react to how other parents interact with their children. My only exception to this is when a parent spanks their child in public, to which I cheer emphatically. A few months back, I saw a woman at the supermarket lean down to her loud daughter and give her a good smack on the behind, along with one of those "Come to Jesus" talks face-to-face. I wanted to give her a medal right there and then, or at least pay for her produce items. Something. Nothing restores my faith in parenting like a mother or father that isn't afraid of discipline.
Now,I'm not totally sold on spanking per say, I just think we've become so damned afraid of it that parents are almost too intimidated to discipline their children in general. For too long, Americans have provided too much abundance and convenience for their children, leaving us a future of vapid, privileged brats who have nothing better to do in life than conjure up creative ways for killing brain cells and their parents' bank accounts. It's one thing to provide a better life and a college fund for the next generation, but completely another to shower your kids with their every friggin' desire until they have no touch with the real world. These train wrecks generally end in college, when the child has a 0.2 GPA in their Sophomore year and can't find a employer that's "cool" enough to hire them.
Discipline is good. You gotta treat the home like the real world: what you get is what you earn, and no one owes you anything. Period. Did you pay attention to what I just wrote there? If you did, it's not because you owed it to me - you don't owe me squat, and I don't owe you (unless you're Blockbuster - I told you I returned Steel Magnolias, dammmit). Everything, from money to someone's attention is earned, and creating an 18-year long bubble where these rules don't apply won't help your kids any.
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OK, so all of this is coming from a guy who hasn't even potty trained his first child yet. I've got a long way to go before I can start doling out parenting advice. Maybe I'll crack with the first temper tantrum, or give in the first time Elena storms off to her room. But, I'm pretty sure that if I know myself so far, my bitterness and indignation toward our epidemic of spoiled children will prevail.
If not, I guess Anna and I can always hash out any issues with our children on Ricki Lake or Montel Williams.
