If I Were a Dad

I wonder what would happen if I decided to stop parenting? No, I don't mean if I ran away, as I've sometimes considered. Rather, what if I stopped being the primary parent? Have you ever heard the Beyonce song, "If I were a boy"? I have to sit back and consider, what would it be like, :If I were a Dad" or more specifically, "If I were Andy".

Some critics have suggested that Andy and I are raising free range chicken. I've even agreed that, at times, little Charlotte seems like a baby goat in a pen but that has less to do with our parenting and more to do with her penchant for dropping her food on the floor then picking it up to eat. I really look up to the militaristic parents whose children go to church and don't make a peep, whose children do what they are told before the end a count to five, and whose children are really, truly limited to 30 minutes of screen time a day.

I can't even begin to understand how to run a household like boot camp. Being the tree hugger that I am, it's always been against my nature to force people to behave in a certain way. Too may rules and too much structure freaks me out. With that said, I have a Type A personality and am very organized. I pride myself on being on time, I stick to a schedule, I've never lost my car keys, I limit screen time, my kids eat tons of fruit, they are in bed before 8, their immunizations are up-to-date, their outfits match and they always say please and thank you. I ensure their clothes fit and organize them by size and season. I make sure their shoes fit, their hair is trimmed, they always have a snack and a drink and their bags are packed for every trip. - TAKE THAT military moms!

Thanks to, ahem, me, we are a well oiled machine. When it comes to my little trolls, I am on the ball. My attention to offspring detail allows Andy to focus his attention on making the "big money!" for the family, cleaning those ever dirty litter pans, mowing the lawn and snow blowing the driveway and whatever else it is that Andy does with himself.

In the midst of managing the midgets tonight, while Andy talked on the phone (BTW, did you know that Andy actually becomes BLIND while talking on the phone? For reals.) I wondered, what would happen if either a) I wasn't here or b) I sat back and let Andy make the rules.

Begin dream sequence:

Morning: Child with tremendously large diaper (full of pee and 2 sizes too big) throws body weight on cat and drinks Diet Coke from a bottle. Older child sits on couch, eating chocolate, staring at television. Dad reads news on laptop (did I mention that interacting with computer also causes Andy blindness?)

Midday: The small child, wearing tights and a shirt backwards, carries a weed wacker around a lawn while the older child drags behind her a bag of trash and asks, "Daddy, when can we stop cleaning your apartments and go to the playground? You promised us after we cleaned all the lawns up we could swing!"

Evening (approximately 10 pm): Children jumping on couch and eating corn dogs while watching Strawberry Shortcake on iPad. Cat wearing toddler girl underpants and feather boa. Dad sits on couch, head nods, heavy with sleep. Older girl jumps over to Dad and covers him with pee-stinky-smelling blankie. Kids, cats and Dad all asleep on couch sometime around 11 pm.

I'm being a little narcissistic here. I'm aware that life would indeed go on without me and everyone would be just fine. Yes, the girls may not wear the cutest outfits and they might go to bed a little later and eat more sugar than I'd like, yet under Andy's guidance, they would thrive and grow into wonderful little people. However, ladies, let it be known that if, heaven forbid, something should happen to me, please help Andy get remarried. His new wife can even be really hot. As long as she promises to love and take care of my girls.

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