Poisonous Parenting In the New Year
It goes without saying that becoming a parent changes you in countless ways. I’ve heard it described as having your heart walking around outside of your body. I’ve heard it said that you learn to love in a way you never did before, and you learn to fear in a way you didn’t before. I know that becoming a husband and a father made me a lot more emotional than I’d ever been. I can access emotions now that seemed to be permanently walled off. I knew something was up the day I found myself crying while watching an episode of Oprah.
I’ve also developed a kind of “parent radar” or at least that’s what I call it. That is, I don’t just keep up with my own kid. When we’re out at a park, playground or social event. I keep an eye out for other kids too. It’s like I automatically scan the area and figure out which kids belong with which adults. (And which adults, at a playground or a park, aren’t there with a kid, a dog, or their jogging shoes.) And out of the corner of my eye I’ll spot a kid rushing headlong in to danger. Once I saw a toddler about to get hit by a bicycle—neither the bicyclist or his mother saw him in that moment—and pulled him out of the way just in time.
Maybe it’s because I see a little of my own children in every other child I see. Maybe I see that same vulnerability, and I’d want someone to look out for them if I wasn’t there. Maybe it’s not that unusual. No one wants to see a child hurt. Or at least most people don’t. Who wouldn’t try to save a child from harm, even if it’s not their own? After all, not being a parent doesn’t mean preclude anyone from loving or caring a child. And, unfortunately, being a parent—even to children they’ve conceived and birthed—doesn’t make some people any more inclined or equipped to deliver the love and care that comes after conception and deliver. Thus, this series.













