Each stage of your child’s life affects you as a parent differently. It doesn’t seem that way when you start down this path. When you decide to have children, it seems as though you are signing up for a static experience, like, “I am sitting down to eat this bowl of macaroni and cheese.” In reality, you are signing up for a variety of experiences, each with its own challenges and rewards. Sure one bite may be mac ‘n cheese, but the next bite may be meat loaf, and the bite after that may involve the words cod, liver and oil. You never really know what the next bite has in store.
Does it get any better than this?
This is because, obviously, as kids grow up they change. They change and they interact with you differently. Sometimes this is good, as in when their digestive systems calm down and they stop throwing up on you. Sometimes this is bad, as in when they stop calling you, “Daddy” and insist that your name is “Fuckface” or even worse, “Paul.”
We are totally enamored with stage of development Malcolm is at right now. I must admit, though, that the last two words of that sentence scare the crap out of me. What if this is the pinnacle of parenting? What if this iteration of our kid is the most pleasing iteration we will ever get? The possibility that we will spend the rest of our lives with a child that we like less than this is almost flabbergasting. (Yes, that’s right, almost flabbergasting. It takes a lot for me to actually get flabbergasted. Flabbergasted, what a weird word.)
My dilemma is partially due to the fact that I am really digging Malcolm right now and partially because I am completely mortified of each stage of development that Malcolm hasn’t reached. Sure, we are now able to really enjoy things like sports, games and tickle fights, but at some point this will change (unless you’re Eric Massa!) Will he stop wanting to be seen with me in public? Will he stop playing baseball in real life and just want to play video games? When do the smoking and drinking start? I don’t know the answers to these questions, and the unknown is cause for concern. So, I worry that this it. This is the time I will always look back on as “the glory days.” Sigh.
My ace in the hole is that I am no longer as hung up on Malcolm’s blemishes as I once was (what hunchback?). Sure he has issues (a grandma at a local park just asked him why he was so mean spirited,) but I conveniently ignore them and focus on the good (we played an entire game of basketball out in the driveway: He won 100-96, doing the math himself all game long.) Isn’t that what all parents do? Rose colored glasses do a great job of blinding you to red flags.
It does get better. Those are March Madness Brackets!
Maybe that’s just it. Maybe I always think things are getting better because I have just gotten better at deluding myself. To tell you the truth, I don’t even mind doing it this way, provided I can always be happy about where Malcolm is in life. I guess it’s my form of Prozac. I can only hope that the day he walks through the door with cigarette in his mouth and says,”Hey Fuckface, where’s my new video game?” and I can turn to Amy and say, “Hear that? He stopped calling me Paul!”
Tags: growing up
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i like this post, nice job.
This brought tears to my eyes…
From my experience, it just keeps getting better — even to age 37.
i think all parents look at their kids with rose-colored glasses. something we just do, i guess. i happen to think mine made me blind to my oldest daughter’s depression problem. i didn’t want it to be that, you know? things will be good, and sometimes things will be bad, but having kids in your life is always worth it. btw none of my kids don’t mind being seen with me (ages 23, 13, 11), but only the middle child still gives me kisses. i love that. the 23 and 11 yo told me no more kisses at around the same age (9-10yo) lol phooey on them. :0)
Kid’s are great at giving us blinders. We don’t have such blinders with other adults.
Jean, maybe you should wait and read the blog on a zinfandel-free night!
Ciara, I think my wife will miss the kisses a little bit more than me when our son weens us from them. That’s when I gotta be careful about birth control!
Edathome, I never even considered the possibility that I would be able to put on the rose colored blinders for other people. Looks like I got some skill building to do.
Thanks KC!
i think this is one of my fave posts of yours Paul… beautiful, funny and heart felt…something everyone can relate to…
thanks for the laughs
Susan
Thanks Susan! Much better than just showing off pics of my legs eh?
Great post! I, too, am worried about every new challenge and developmental stage and “personality” Bean will try on next. I wonder if this is as Easy as it’s going to get, also, b/c it seems like it only gets more complex with time.
But I also feel in my gut that no matter how hard it gets, it’s always going to be worth it. And there is nothing Bean could do to make me love him less (whether it makes me angry, or cry, or smile, or laugh)
Mama bean, I am not afraid that I will stop loving him, but just that I like him less. Sorta the same way that my wife still loves me, just liked me more when I went running with her and showered more often.
I’m sorry Paul, I didn’t mean for my comment to come across as saying you might love your son less. I should have edited that better before posting it. I totally agree with you, and am also scared of, those moments when I don’t like Bean (oh did we have a day today…) I worry about when he can talk back to me
I worry about those moments when he might not like me.
I actually told Malcolm today that I didn’t want to hang out with him because of the way he was acting. I stomped off in the other room in a huff. Hopefully he won’t hold it against me tomorrow.