As a dad I am constantly worried that I am screwing up. I mean I even have nightmares about it. I worry so much that I hyperventilate at times just thinking about it, and these parenting magazines and websites aren't making it any better for me.
Everywhere you look there are all these parenting do's and don'ts that I'm supposed to follow religiously!
It's quite overwhelming I'll you what.
Why is parenting so freakin' scary?!
Well, it's not. It just takes a little dedication.
And, to help me remember that, and to help me calm down and relax a little, I came up with a list of signs that I'll be looking out for in order to help let me know that I am on the right track and needn't worry so much.
Here. Let's go down my list right now.
1.) Is he smiling?
Smiles and laughter are pretty good indicators of happiness in my book. As long as Pizzly is happy, I am happy...I think.
I guess it all depends on why he is smiling and laughing.
Is he just in a good mood or has he done something wicked and awful?
This calls for an investigation!
2.) Is he clothed?
If by clothed you mean "Is he wearing anything at all?" then yes he is clothed.
In fact, he is wearing his favorite froggy boots and was wearing the remains of a onesie until about five minutes ago.
No, he isn't wearing a diaper or anything, but he's at home, and it is warm enough in here for him to run around necked if he wants to.
Besides, we are working on house breaking the little rascal. If he's wearing pants, he won't use the potty. However, if he is starkies he'll hop on and pee like nobody's business all by himself.
And, it isn't like I take him outside of the house all necked. He's always perfectly clothed and properly dressed whenever we go out anywhere. Sure, sometimes he strips down once
we arrive, but we always start fully clothed.
|The aftermath of a Pizzly Tornado!|
3.) Is he relatively clean?
Well, that is a tricky question.
He certainly isn't the cleanest he's ever been, but he also isn't at his dirtiest either.
I'll put it this way. We started clean this morning and then had breakfast, ran around like crazy, found the flour container, played in spilled flour, found and played with the play dough, had a snack, and now are sleeping peacefully on the couch with a pile of crayons and coloring books.
He even seems to have found marshmallows from somewhere.
So, no. He isn't very clean anymore, but I promise you he was at some point this morning. Besides, the good thing about kids is that they are washable. Before we head out to the local hardware store I'll clean him up and get the marshmallow out of his hair, and you'd never know that he was filthy because that's how well he cleans up.
|Pizzly preparing for war with the new|
sword Mama Bear bought him.
Thanks Mama Bear!
4.) Is he actively harming himself or anything/anyone else?
No. But, the day is still young yet, so the possibilities are endless!
Truthfully, I am usually on the ball enough to stop him from actively harming himself, but as for others...I can't honestly tell you that I stop that from happening all that often because most of the time the others that he is attacking and harming is ME!
That's okay though. He's only 19 months old. I should be able to handle it.
Should being the key word in that sentence.
I can't tell you how many heated battles we have had, but there's been plenty! Most of the time I end up almost winning too, but he always seems to pull it off in the end!
So, it seems that I, poor old Da, am the only one that Pizzly ever causes harm to, and that is ok...I guess.
5.) Have I ever been visited by Child Protective Services?
I may not be the best father in the world, but my kid is never put into any avoidable danger/risk, so that means that I am not the worst father in the world either at least.
Yeah, admittedly there are times when Pizzly drives me absolutely bat crap insane, but that is all part of the gig.
He is supposed to drive me nuts. He's supposed to push me away like yesterdays newspaper. He's supposed to trash the house and wreak havoc in general. He's a toddler that's what they do.
My job is to keep him healthy. I'm supposed to make sure he is well fed. I keep track of all his bumps and bruises. I make sure that he is happy. I make sure he's safe and secure. I constantly clean up after him no matter how foul it gets. I act like a fool to make him smile. I cuddle with him on the couch whenever I can. I do whatever I can for him.
It doesn't matter how crazy he makes me. It doesn't matter how much he pushes me away. I do all this because I'm a parent. I love him, and that's what I do.
There. Already I feel better.