Using Fear to Sell Parenting

When I was a teenager, I delivered pizza. As far as teenager jobs go, it was one of the best ever. I would put on my uniform, check my tight butt out in the mirror, and get ready to impress the world. I had hair then, and brother, it was amazing. I miss my hair.

One summer night, I was called out into the sticks of Texas. When I got to the house, I was greeted by a goat. Not my normal run, but I can handle a goat. The goat climbed me to get the pizza, which I kept safe above my head. As a pizza delivery driver, I had many skills. Goat fending off was just one of them. I could also run my hand through my hair and never break eye contact with a customer. Again, I miss my hair.

The customer came to the door, took their pizza, and stiffed me on the tip. Both the goat and I judged him for that. But no big deal. I jumped back into my 1980 Baby Blue Ford Truck and drove back down the dirt road. Then I felt something crawling on my sweaty neck.

I slapped and heard a crunch. I felt more little legs and warm juice. The summer air smelled like cow manure and hot sewage. I slapped again, felt another crunch, and swerved. Then I began to feel those same little legs under my shirt.

I freaked out and slammed on my truck breaks. The car died, because it was a piece of crap that couldn’t be counted on in an emergency, and I jumped out. I slapped every inch of my body and kept hearing that crunch. Obviously, the only thing to do was to strip naked.

And that is how I found myself standing in the middle of the night in my underwear swatting at June Bugs. Those big fat bastards that sound like a hard candy shell when you step on them. In Texas, they are practically cattle. For 5 more minutes, I crushed as many as I could. Both real and imaginary, I found them and crushed them. I had welts all over my body. I swear officer, I’m not crazy. Just June Bugs.

Ever since then, I have had a fear of them. I hate them. I train my dogs to eat them. Gross little bastards. But as a father, I wish it was the only fear I had.

Everything is scary when you are a parent

If I only had to worry about June Bugs, that would be fantastic. But being responsible for little versions of myself, there are more fears than that. School shootings, the stability of our country, and white nationalism to name a few. Then there are the personal fears.

Do I know what I’m doing? Should I feed my kid rice cereal first or will that affect their brain development? Is there a study somewhere that says if my kid is a day late on their charted development, that I have failed as a father? And it’s those fears that sell articles, magazines, and products.

They tap in our June Bug cores and call out our own doubts as parents. They make potty training seem like the first step into getting accepted into Harvard. And if our kids don’t get into Harvard? Well, life is pretty much over for them. And it’s all your fault. During the time of Covid, it’s even worse.

Keep your kids home and they’ll be safe accept you are now depriving them of their education. They’ll fall behind! They’ll fall behind? Behind what? Who knows! Send them to school, but we can’t enforce masks. Why? Because they are not one inch above the knee. Your kid is going to get it and it’s going to be your fault. On and on and on it goes.

How about some recent headlines? Kids are getting sick from cannabis edibles. It’s a real headline. Does it happen very often or like twice? Is it safe to raise my child vegan? That’s a headline on a major news source and it might as well ask if it’s safe to raise them a meat-eater.

As parents, we are all stuck in Baby Blue Fords swatting at parenting June Bugs. Parenting articles tell us everything that we are doing wrong, or if not that, what we could be doing wrong by making them eat vegan weed. For the record, I’ve never had that conversation with any parent I know. But if they did eat vegan weed, would my kid get into Harvard?

Let’s acknowledge what we are doing right

This is what bothers me about a dad that writes parenting advice. Everything is doom and gloom. We write click-bait articles because that drives traffic. And sometimes that traffic will directly affect how much the writer gets paid, or the very least, if he will get another shot at an article at a prestigious publication. It just so bothers me.

It’s the source of bad advice where one day you’ll find yourself worrying about June Bugs that make vegan weed brownies. Instead, why can’t we focus on the positive? Let’s not shame, let’s encourage. That’s what I want to see in the dad world. Hey dad, you are doing great taking your kid out. Here’s a list of things you can keep in your diaper bag to make that next adventure even easier. Want to learn to teach your kid some STEM? Try building this super easy trebuchet with them out of popsicle sticks.

You rarely see those types of articles, even though I try my hardest. Instead, it’s more “Dad is an idiot that doesn’t know the difference between these 5 brands of diapers. How could you marry him?” I joke, but I’ve read some articles that are pretty close to this.

The point is, it’s our internal fears that get used to sell us parenting stuff. From gear that we don’t need to advice that is not only detrimental to our mental health, but our kids as well. For example, they make bulletproof backpacks now for kids. It kicks up our parenting fear to the highest level. But no where do we actually come up with a practical solution for school shootings. We don’t talk about the need for greater childhood intervention, mental health care, and parenting support. We focus on a fear symptom rather than a positive root cause solution. Because those don’t sell. They can’t be made by a company and they don’t drive clicks. They cost us money. And that’s where I think we have really failed.

So, let us say this plainly, dad. You are doing a great job. Parenting is hard so cut yourself some slack. Don’t look at your child through the lens of fear, and instead, look at them through their potential. Embrace their mistakes and encourage their efforts. Celebrate their failures and your own, because that is how you improve. A screw-up is just the first step to getting it right. And you’ve gotten a lot right this far. When you need advice, go find it, but make it practical. Choose what speaks to you and skip the headlines that feed off your fear. You’ve got this. Showing up is the most important part and if you’re reading this, then you’re already there.

And don’t forget about the June Bugs. Screw those guys.

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