Wednesday, April 7, 2010

If Only Bruno Could Judge Her Parenting Skills

There are times — like on Monday, during hour six on my own with the kids, while finding a little shade under a slide at a park — when I'm able to stop for a moment and realize, as I worry about the work I'm missing because of yet another day of school closings, Holy crap, I have two children, as if I just woke from a half-decade coma.

And I calm my panic by considering the fact that I don't have, say, three or more children. I told my neurologist that I had two kids and he asked whether I was looking for a third, and I replied that three seemed to be a bit much for me right now, and the doctor replied that two seemed like a bit too much for him. (He had two kids, by the way. He also complained about his taxes, this neurologist did.)

I wish I could have three, maybe even four kids, but right now (and probably for the rest of my life) I lack the house and income to barely support the pair we're raising now. But I wonder what would have happened if Jenn and I decided to go for that third kid and ended up with kids three, four, five, six, seven, and eight.

Would I consider being on a television special that eventually turned into a reality show? Perhaps. I'd have eight kids to feed, after all. And maybe I'd write a book about my experiences, and try to secure as much free stuff as I could, especially important expensive stuff like college tuition or diapers.

Would I like being famous for siring eight children? I don't know. I have so many other things I'd like to be famous for, like my someday-it-will-be-published novel or my fledgling hip-hop career, not having super seeds.

And how would I handle one of those moments, when I'm backstage and about to perform at Dancing With the Stars, miles away from my brood, living a whirlwind life that's more hectic than even parenting is, fighting off paparazzi who want to take my photo mainly because I'm famous for siring one short of a full baseball team, absorbing criticism for my dancing and attitude, and dealing with the latest legal salvo from my estranged spouse?

What would I think at this moment? Just remember the foxtrot. Just remember the foxtrot.
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