Daddy 3000: Raising Tomorrow’s Dads

So, the Hubbs and I are raising a Father of the Future… a Daddy 3000, if you will.  He will be the next generation of wasp sprayers and Hot Wheels players. A future soccer coach, impromptu bucking bronco, and a master of all things grill-able!

Be nice to your sister

But a Daddy is so much more than that now-a-days, isn’t he?

Daddy is a boo-boo kisser, a dress-up buddy, and a swing machine. He can make a mean hotdogs-n-mac with brownies for dessert. Daddies are fashion consultants for before-school-runway-shows and professional bedtime book narrators… with voices and all.

In my house, Mommies and Daddies are not so different. Mommy is better at cleaning bathrooms but Daddy is wizard with the laundry. Daddy bravely battles those eight legged freaks while Mommy will stalk a snake with relish and bring it over for a quick look-see. Mommy and Daddy share, sometimes fight, and then (eventually) cuddle on the couch. Daddy and Mommy are, well… just that… Daddy and Mommy. Two people who share the responsibility of making sure you don’t kill yourself or become an axe murder.

Daddy 3000

We want our Daddy 3000 to be just who he is, and to understand that parenting is, well… being a parent. Parenting is NOT a set of rules laid out along age-old lines whose use and purpose has been lost to technology and forward thinking; it is team work, respect, and being present. We don’t want our Daddy 3000 to feel like he has to fit into any mold but his own, and we hope that he learns by our example. I mean, because really…. what else do we have?

Now, that’s not to say there aren’t rules to help guide him. Rules like:

  • No blood, no foul. Not everything needs a Spiderman Band-Aid.
  • No naked bits on the nice furniture.
  • Farts are only funny at home. Not in Wal-mart.
  • Stating the obvious will not make you any friends. (In other words, Great-Grandma knows she is old, Mommy is pregnant and knows she is going to get “huge”, and sweetheart, we all know you have a penis…. no need to shout it out in the checkout line at the grocery store.)

Being 3 and full of… um…. mischief, he sees rules as a vague sort of boundary to push against (and basically disregard completely) so our parental fall-back is to love each other fiercely, be kind, and to hopefully teach through example. Oh, and to vow never to allow a non-washable crayon/marker in the house. And to toss his screechy little butt outside to go terrorize the dogs when he isn’t fit to see reason.

We are not always successful or perfect, but we try…and isn’t that what will make a great Daddy 3000?

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About the Author:

Hello! I’m Synnøve! Yes… I know… It’s pronounced sun-oo-va… and I am a married, 40-hours-a-week working, mother of two. My life is pretty much one long, Faulknerian stream-of-consciousness-esque tornado drill. Duck and cover, folks… duck and cover.

Find Synnøve at Don’t Chew on the Dinner Table

 

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Comments

  1. Dyanne Dillon says:

    Yesssss! I have a real pet peeve when a man says he’s “babysitting” his own kids. IT’S CALLED PARENTING, BUDDY! (Add that to the list you made for Sass.)

  2. I think that past “societal norms” hobbled both sides on what they could and couldn’t do. I’m happy to see these parenting barriers broken.

    Sass will break barriers… And that’s all… If we’er lucky.

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