Fears of Parenthood

While the joys of having a child are plentiful, there’s also some concerns. Being born into a world where Hillary Clinton could be President is scary enough, but believe it or not, there’s some fears that run even deeper. Besides, who knows what Hillary’s health will be in five more months? Though it’s much more fun to focus on the positives, the negatives of being a parent must not be ignored.

The whole changing diapers thing is enough for its own future blog entry, but along the same lines of grossness, is all the puke there will be to clean up. Baby Woody already has two strikes against it, as both Jessica and I threw-up a lot while growing up. Yes, it’s normal for infants to spit-up, but we had volcanic like eruptions into our teen years (at least I did). I started taking an extra pair of clothes to elementary school, just so my Mom wouldn’t have to bring them after I lost my lunch. The clinic had her on speed dial, before speed dial was even invented. As for Jessica, she could barely go for a car ride around the block without getting sick. If the baby inherits that trait, we’ll have to pull over a lot, because though we both have gotten a lot better, we still have a bad gag reflex when we hear/see someone else vomit. It will be a chain reaction, if one of us throws-up, the other will soon follow. It will be an endless cycle of cleaning up barf. We better start stocking up on the Lysol now.

I have a confession to make, it’s very personal and I try not to talk about it, but I’ve kept it buried inside long enough. From the outside I may look normal, or at least somewhat close to it, but not all ailments can be seen. For years I’ve suffered from a serious case of being absolutely terrible at video games. From Pac-Man to Call of Duty, I last for about two minutes before all my lives are gone. It makes no difference if it’s at an arcade, on a home gaming system, a hand held device or on a computer, the results are always the same. With how kids start playing on their electronics at such a young age now, Baby Woody will be two and already past me on Candy Crush. How embarrassing will it be, when the child is still in diapers and beats me at every video game? Their first words will probably be, ‘No Daddy, push B!”

If we play outside the results are likely not to be much better. If it’s a girl, I can at least teach her how to throw like a girl. Either way, boy or girl, we will never be able to play catch, but rather pick it up. Not to brag, but I was always pretty good on the swings, so we’ll have to spend lots of time on the swing set, where I can both swing and push! Just no monkey bars though.

Gone are the days where a quick exit is possible, as I’ll no longer be able to go anywhere without being able to fit everything I need in my pockets. I’ll have to start loading up about ten minutes earlier now. Will never be on time again. I’ll need to pack the diaper bag, toys, stroller, blanket, bottles, food, etc. and hopefully remember the baby.

There will be no more peaceful meals, when out to eat, as soon as I cut into my steak (okay chicken nuggets), the baby will start crying, after having thrown hundreds of cheerios on the floor, and the surrounding diners give us dirty looks. I start shoving the food into my mouth quickly, not even tasting it. Then Baby Woody spits up, which causes me to lose everything I just inhaled, then we really get the dirty looks. We need to rush out before Jessica adds to the vomit, but we have to get the diaper bag, toys, stroller etc…etc…oh the joys of parenting.

The good will by far outweigh the bad, especially if Baby Woody takes after its mother more than its father.