As a SAHD, one of the perennial issues to be faced is the arrival of the showboating parent. What do I mean by this? It’s simple really, a mum (or mainly) dad who arrives at the park with something to prove. They probably don’t get to do this type of activity as often as I do (lucky them) and are determined to make a show of how much fun their kid is having. By ‘making a show’ I mean making the other parents aware of just how amazing they are.Read More Showboating Parents, Please Give it a Rest – The Good Men Project
You’re at that point in a computer game, the one where you think you’ve nearly finished. You’ve mastered the gameplay, you know all the little tricks and strategies that lowly beginners miss. You’re feeling pretty smug, then suddenly – rather than being congratulated for completing the game – a big ‘Level TWO’ sign drops into view! Within moments you discover that ‘Level TWO’ is much harder than ‘Level ONE’. This isn’t a game anymore.Read More Welcome to LEVEL TWO. Life with the arrival of baby number 2 | Dad life | Mas & Pas
There are only two types of parents in this world. Those who hate soft play and those who don’t know what all the fuss is about.
I’m in the former category. Why do I hate it so much? Because it’s a hot house environment where your sole job is to defend your kid from the sugar-fueled, unattended offspring of those who don’t know what all the fuss is about.
I conclude that parenting is like being on a swing. There are highs and lows. Yet, it’s important (even if you’re tempted) to avoid going over the top.Read More Showboating parents (please) give it a rest!
As a parent, I’d worked my way through all the stages that are supposed to be hell on earth: sleepless nights, teething, separation anxiety, having your shoes filled with sick… the whole gamut. And the thing was, that despite all the hype, none of these events was quite as bad as I’d expected. Like the worst type of film – all the best bits were in the trailer, leaving my partner and I feeling slightly underwhelmed to experience the supposed horror of the real thing.
It was with this (understandable) sense of over confidence that I greeted the my son’s (inevitable) turning from 1 to 2. It was simply a number, I told myself. A personality doesn’t change THAT much as the result of just getting a little bit older. What was the worst that could happen? After all, we’re just talking about a tiny tot.
HOW WRONG WAS I?