Episode 89: Does this brain have an off button?

Of the countless neuroses and insecurities that rule my life, my ability to convince myself that I am failing at something no matter the task or circumstances surrounding it is probably at or near the top of the list, just below feeling like everything I say socially is perceived by others as awkward and irrelevant. Case and point, earlier this week, out of nowhere, I happened to decide that I was doing an absolutely terrible job raising my daughter. I told myself that she wasn't learning anything but bad habits and bad language, and her recent behavioral outbursts are entirely my fault. I felt as though I was accomplishing little more than messing her up for the rest of her life. I pictured her going to the first day of school and being the weirdest kid around, completely misbehaved, in no way adjusted and socially retarded. Maybe it was the day of conflict at the park, or the fact that she now has a bad habit of punching me in the face and laughing at me when I get mad. I am not sure what it was, but I found myself counting the days until Monica was done with work so that she could actually have a chance to spend her time with someone who wasn't setting her up to fail.

I guess a lot of it comes from the fact that she is so rambunctious and fresh all of the time, and that she seemingly has all sorts of bad habits that I can't seem to break her from. She still puts everything in her mouth, she still gets weird and quiet whenever we are around someone, she still doesn't talk well and she in no way responds to discipline. So, as a result of this new insecurity I developed a theory- you know, with all of my training in child psychology, education and philosophy. Essentially, the theory states that there are two kinds of parents: supervisors and teachers. Supervisors are there to make sure the child eats, sleeps and remains safe throughout the day while teachers take an active role in developing the child's behaviors as well as educating them throughout the day on speaking, counting and various forms of discovery. Unfortunately, based on this theory that I just invented out of the sky, I determined that I am not effective in either category.

Although as a supervisor I feel like I do a good job of making sure the baby is fed, rested and relatively safe on a daily basis, I am severely lacking in the discipline category. The problem is fairly simple. Av is my daughter, and she is adorable, so seeing her sad in any way pretty much turns me in to a giant marshmallow. Because of this, I rarely yell at her and probably don't tell her 'no' quite enough. This problem is not limited to my role as a father. I am not a discipline type of guy. This is why I could never hold any sort of management position- employees would walk all over me. I don't particularly like telling people what to do, and I pretty much hate confrontation, so I just let things fester until I explode in some sort of illogical, nonsensical melt down. You know, kind of like a 1-year-old. This is where my paranoia about school comes from. Every time I think of Av going to school I can hear the phone call from the principal telling me that she punched some kid in the face, stole his milk and told the teacher to f-off in the process. I feel like she pretty much does that to me every day already.

As a teacher I feel like I am even more of a failure. I play with Av and try to read books, but I just don't see myself doing anything that is actually enriching her life. I see moms at the playground teaching their kids sign language or speaking to them in these calm, strategic voices. The other day we were playing and some other lady started teaching Av about her shadow, trying to get her to wave to it. I would never in a million years have thought to teach her that. FAIL.

I tell you all of this so that I can essentially now admit that I am pretty much just a neurotic, paranoid dumb ass.

I know I have been talking about the playground a lot this week, but another nice day led us there again and that is when I became enlightened. I always get nervous when other kids are around, not just because of my irrational fear of them and their moms, but also because I am weary of how Av is going to behave. With me she is usually quiet, awkward and weird around them, but Monica has told me stories about her punching kids, stealing toys and pretty much just being an all around bully. I don't need that in my life. Lately the problems we have been having center around her wanting to play with other people's things. She tries to steal kid's balls, climb in to strollers and essentially just cause trouble all over the place. Because of this, today I made sure we were equipped with a ball and a $1.99 shovel and pail from Walgreens, so I could have something to distract her with if things got out of hand.

At the playground today were two kids around the same age as Av, a girl who was a few months older and a boy who was a few months younger. As always, Av towered over them both like Robin Williams in 'Jack.' Supervising/teaching them were a 20-something mom and a grandfather, both of whom, much to my delight, were very friendly. When we first got there Av put her pail and shovel down and started playing with her ball. The little girl came over and I told her it was OK to play with the bucket and nervously watched, silently praying that Av didn't run over and kick her ass. What transpired was nothing short of amazing. Not only did Av not fire a handful of rocks in to the girl's face, she actually sat down and started nicely playing with her. Av even let her play with her cool 1994 Nikelodeon ball, which is remarkable because she usually clutches that thing like it is a child of her own. (The origin of this ball is a mystery, by the way. It is literally copyright 1994. It is neon green and purple and has that old school Nikelodeon logo. Weird.) She and the girl worked out a fantastic arrangement where Av threw the ball and the girl went and got it and brought it back to her. Later, the boy came and stole the shovel from her and she didn't even care. Av even stopped throwing rocks when I told her not to. Nice.

The best part was that I am starting to get over my fear of moms and children, too. I managed to sustain an intelligent, non-awkward conversation with the little girl's mom, without saying anything weird, stumbling over my words or drifting off mid sentence and forgetting what I was saying. That did wonders for my confidence and soon enough the three of us, the grandfather now hanging around, started comparing notes on the children. It was at this point that I realized that the other two kids had all of the same bad habits as Av and give their parents just as much grief. If anything, Av was the most well-behaved of the three.

I still don't think I am doing the best job of being a teacher, but the supervisor roll is going better than I had originally expected, which has made me feel at least a little bit better about the past nine months. Av will still probably end up in therapy some day and I am sure I have made more mistakes than I even know about, but, hey, that is why it is a trial by fire. Ugh, I'm sorry. I hate when everything is rolled in to a nice package like that. I prefer my mind to be like a spilled Scrabble board.