Friday, September 28, 2012
I visited my parents yesterday, and slept under the watchful eyes of Jesus. As a child, I wondered if all the Jesus's above beds ever compared notes. Do the ones that don't get to see any action feel left out?
I had a few fascinating conversations this morning. One was with my father, about how since I'm pushing the big 4-0, I should have my prostate examined. Another was on the subject of child expectations. I know many loving and caring parents who do their best, spend time with their children, and want to help them succeed. But have I done that? Have I been helpful, or horribly over-expectant of my children? Sometimes it's so hard to know what's best. You live through life, you see where you should have made that left turn at Albuquerque, and you want to spare them that. You don't want them to wake up and realize that opportunities have passed them by. You want to help them do what they want to do. You want them to know to use the correct personal pronoun "I" instead of the inclusive "you." Things of that nature.
Parenthood feels so competitive at times. I wonder if it's a marketing ploy, meant to stimulate the economy. Buy Baby Einstein DVDs, get your kids an early start with educational software, buy this, buy that... No one seemed to care about such things before the '80s. How did the human race survive?