parenting – VievesVine

Kids strive for independence. If you ask me, that philosophy is turned around and upside down.

Think about it.

A baby cries, and every adult within hearing range rushes to the crib or bassinet or wherever the infant’s parking spot happens to be at that moment.

“What’s the matter, sweet baby?”

“Ahhh, what is it, little one?”

“Do you need your diaper changed?”

“Are you hungry?”

It doesn’t take long. Babies figure out they have everyone at their beck and call. Once they do, they “work the system”—their wishes become the adults’ commands.

Oh, to be a kid again.

Children have personal full-time chefs. Not only do those chefs cook every meal, but they hand-deliver it to the table.

Oftentimes, the child doesn’t even have to pick up a fork. The chef will do that for him, wipe excess food away from the little one’s face, and clean up the kitchen afterward.

That same chef doubles as a chauffeur, which comes in handy when said child wants to veer from the routine and visit Chick-fil-A, Dairy Queen, or a pizza spot.

Momma (or Poppa) chauffeur drives them everywhere—school, swim practice, football games, the movies, church youth group, the pool, birthday parties, the grandparents’ house, and more.

Momma and Poppa cover the gas and the car insurance. And Grandma’s house takes “beck and call” to a whole new level.

Oh, to be a kid again.

Adults run to wipe their noses at the hint of a sneeze. Children are held and cuddled and rocked at the whisper of a fever.

In truth, children are held and cuddled and rocked just because they are, well, children.

Adults buy all their clothes and wash them when required. Children don’t stress over what to wear; their adults choose their outfits for them.

Oh, to be a kid again.

Children get the coolest, fun-themed birthday parties thanks to the adults who plan and pay for the entire shebang.

Shebang. I have never, as in ever, typed that word, yet there it is—twice. I could have said “affair,” but shebang is much more fun.

But I digress….

Kids get imaginary friends, and everyone goes along with the idea. Well, not everyone.

When he was a toddler, my brother Gerald played with Davison Robbins day in and day out. We, his older siblings, came home from school each day and said, “Hey, what did you and Davison Robbins do today?” and “Did you and Davisson Robbins have fun today?”

Our mother told us to stop “encouraging” the situation. We weren’t. Scout’s honor. We were jealous; we wanted a good pretend friend like Davison Robbins.

Kids have shoes that light up and can wear dress-up clothes and crowns anytime they desire. Their adults read to them, hear their prayers, and tuck them in.

Little ones have everyone coming and going at the snap of a finger when they make their first tactical error around two years of age.

That’s when the “do it myself” compulsion sneaks in and takes over. As soon as toddlers grasp the art of vocabulary, they repeat, “I can do it. I can do it” and “I want to do it myself. I want to do it myself.”

Big, as in HUGE, mistake.

Oh, for a good long while, the adults stand firm and insist on doing and helping and coddling. Eventually, though, the child wears them down. Eventually, the adult in charge sits back and says, “Ok. Sure. You do it.”

It starts with small tasks like putting on socks and shoes. Zipping. Buttoning.

Next thing you know, they’re wiping their own noses, driving their brothers and sisters to school, getting jobs, and buying their clothes. Next thing you know, the child who had the world at her feet is an adult.

Oh, to be a kid again.

Everyone is talking about dads. That’s what people tend to do around Father’s Day.

I have no way of knowing if animals celebrate their dads. But animal dads and human dads have something in common: bad dads and good dads.

Male sea lions rank pretty low when it comes to fatherhood. Ohhhh, they are all about the mating process. But when the pups come along, their fathers ignore them.

Sea otter dads are even worse. They try to mate with females who are still taking care of pups they had with another suitor. A dad otter will also hold his own pup hostage to get Mom to give him food she’s found.

Sea bass dads are deceitful. They put on a show of protecting their eggs from predators, but if they get hungry, they will eat those eggs in the blink of an eye.

There are more than a few examples of animal dads who put themselves first and cannibalize their young. But I prefer to focus on the good guys.

Hardhead Catfish fathers are the antithesis of Sea Bass dads. A male Hardhead Catfish ensures his offspring’s safety by carrying them around in his mouth until the little ones can survive on their own. The dads never, as in ever, eat their young.

Consider the egret, the bird that stands tall and elegant along coastal waters and in marsh areas. Male egrets are positive thinkers. They start building a nest before they mate.

Maybe showing off his architectural skills is one way the male egret looks to impress the girl of his dreams. Once he’s won her heart, Dad continues to work with Mom on what is now “their” nest project. When the chicks arrive, he helps feed them.

Emperor penguin dads would probably hang out with egret dads, but due to environmental differences, they don’t often cross paths.

An Emperor penguin Dad sits on the prized egg for the two-month incubation time, while his main squeeze hunts for food. Once the baby arrives, the parents equally share the parenting responsibilities.

Golden lion tamarin dads (they look like reddish blonde monkeys) bond with their babies in a big way. Dad keeps the kids safe on his back and only gives them to Mom when it’s time to nurse. After the kids are weaned, Dad hand-feeds them.

A lot of people want to give the male seahorse Dad of the Year honors. Seahorses mate for life, and, in a huge twist, it’s the dad who carries and gives birth to the babies.

The Seahorse version of the “Birds and the Bees” goes something like this:

Dad woos Mom and likes to dance with her.

Mom and Dad mate.

Mom transfers her eggs to Dad.

Dad fertilizes the eggs and carries them until birth.

Quiz forthcoming.

While I love the Seahorse romance story, Common marmoset dads are impressive, too. They assist in the birth of their babies, help clean up the afterbirth, and share in all parental obligations.

One of the coolest dads around is the Red fox. He provides protection and food for mom and the kits so that they don’t have to leave the den. When the kits grow a tad, he plays with them.

Best of all, when the kits reach a certain age, Dad Red fox stops taking food to the den. Instead, he hides it in nearby places to teach them how to find food on their own. What a dad!

Human fathers, take note: don’t be sea lion, sea otter, or sea bass kinds of dads. Look to the egret, the Hardhead catfish, and the penguin. Learn from the lion tamarin, the marmoset, and the Red fox.

Prepare for your children. Protect them. Play with them. Teach them. Love them.

Be a good dad.

VievesVine

Tag: parenting

Oh, to be a kid again

Good dads, bad dads