We reflected yesterday that we were actually pretty good parents with number 1 son when he was younger, now 8. Parks, museums, clubs all that shit we did loads of it. This is worth stating as It certainly didn’t feel like it at the time. It actually felt like we were stumbling our way through a fog of inferiority and anxiety. Those sideways glances to the smug family of fuds folding away the same pram as Victoria Beckham into their shiny white people carrier made you feel pretty shitty as you zipped up and walked toward the bus stop.
The boy’s turning 9 soon and his little brother or sister is due July. Still worrying. Now I worry about how much Xbox he plays, and the age appropriateness of the games he plays. He seems to have a fear of getting off his arse and going outside into the sunlight. There’s a fair chance he is a vampire, but fuck it Vampires are cool just now right?
I don’t think I’ll ever get through the fog. I’ll never not worry about the choices I make as a parent, and I never want to be the type of dick that drives a people carrier.
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