I didn’t worry too much when my girls were little. When they hit teenagers years, however, the worry got intense. Driving, drinking, and boys. They didn’t seem good at any of those things. They survived and are doing great now.
Nah, in my experience you fight with the parent you’re like. For me it was my dad.
Mostly, sharp objects, although lately I’ve been worried the older one has my ADHD. But we’re getting her tested.
I worry that my daughters won’t have good self-esteem.
I worry that my sons won’t have good empathy.
I don’t want to steamroll her the way my parents steamrolled me. We’ve been staying with my parents for a few days, and it’s insane, how self-conscious I am. Eating, sleeping, everything is built around what my dad approves and disapproves of, for me. I’ve basically turned off while we’re here. No conversation, no initiative to do anything, nothing but hiding behind my computer waiting to go home so I can be myself again.
I don’t want her to feel that way. Unfortunately, I know that she’ll end up finding something completely different to hate about me. Something I can’t predict.
My solution to that is to be a largish black man with a reputation for having a short temper. Makes a LOT of things simpler.
When I was growing up (1940s-50s), there was only one overriding thing that all parents worried about. Polio. Since the effective vaccines were developed, parents have absolutely no idea what it is like to actually have something to worry about.
We rode in the back of pickup trucks, we looked for places to swim that our parents didn’t know about, we had BB gun wars, we knew who all the creeps were and made fun of them, we knew where to find porn and cigarettes, , we walked to school through blizzards at -30 and were expected to be home by supper time, we fell out of trees, we swore like drunken sailors, our teachers could beat us with a stick if they needed to, we made up our own rules to games which were fair to the little kids. And our parents were only afraid of one thing: that we would get Polio.
Hot dogs. I worry about hot dogs. A few years ago, one of my husbands colleague’s 3-year-old son choked to death on one - despite both parents’ presence, both trained in advanced first aid (one’s a cop, the other a paramedic.) I think my 4-year-old has eaten two frankfurters in her entire life, and the 2-year-old has had one, and both were served by grandparents. I don’t think Tony or I breathed the entire time Lily ate her first hot dog!
I know there are far bigger things to worry about - car accidents, falls, childhood leukemia, the Zombie Apocalypse - but I guess my mind focuses on that tiny risk I can control, versus those big ones that are out of my hands.
When I had small children, the only thing I worried about was illness and accidents. The chances of kidnapping, while not 0, are simply too small to think about. My kids played outside after school all the time. My grandchildren do not.
As for dubious traits persisting to adulthood: I was worried my daughter was an airhead. A very intelligent and well-read airhead. Now she is the office manager and chief copy editor of a large academic publisher responsible for getting 6 journals out the door every month. She apparently is excellent at it.
dingos and pythons are the real danger.
My daughter is 3.
I worry that she might grow up to be a Mean Girl. She’s not mean, I don’t have any reason specific to her for worrying about this … but …
One thing I notice whenever there is news coverage of a bullying incident, or one of the many sad incidents where bullying was a factor, I see a lot of outraged response from parents about “OMG, if my child was the victim of a bully, I would …” and then they list various things, reasonable and not, that they would do. It’s like everyone sees the story and imagines themselves in the position of the parents of the victim.
But very seldom does anyone ever talk about what they would do if it was THEIR KID who was the bully. What are people doing to raise their kids NOT to be bullies? Sometimes, again in the news, you see the families of the mean kid and you think “yep, they’re terrible parents” but oftentimes they are perfectly normal people who had no IDEA their precious child was terrorizing other kids. So I guess my worry is, at heart, the worry of becoming a parent who has no clue what her own kid is doing.
I also worry a lot about driving. I see a lot of research at work about cognitive development and how teens really, neurologically, as a demographic, probably shouldn’t be trusted to do things like drive cars.
Wow- your greatest fear is that your kids may take up an interest that you don’t share? Really? THAT’S the scariest thing you can imagine?
My son is now 10, and he’s the active, outdoorsy kind of kid I never was. He hates the spectator sports I love, and always wants to be out hiking or fishing or catching snakes/lizards/crawdads/frogs/tadpoles/etc.
THAT has never been a problem. I have no interest in ballet or figure skating, but if I had a daughter who loved those things, I’d go to all her recitals and practices. I have no interest in robotics, but if my son were fascinated by robotics, I’d do robotics classes with him. WHATEVER my son takes an interest in, I’ve managed to take part, and it hasn’t been too dangerous, boring or painful yet. Yes, I even play soccer wih him!
My fears have always been more basic: that my son is/was going to kill himself!
My son has always been the kid to climb the highest tree, to take off running after anything that catches his interest, to explore every cave and crevice. He’s always wanted to pursue the most dangerous activities available.
I’m sometimes astonished he’s lived to be 10 years old!
I’ve never liked camping, but I’m not the least bit afraid of having to take him camping eventually. I AM terrified that, on some camping trip, he’ll get excited and chase after a bear or a rattlesnake and get himself killed!
In Skald’s defense, it’s not that “he might be interested in things I’m not”, but “how good of a father will I be when my kid(s) are interested in things I’m not?” A subtle difference, but a crucial one.
The only answer to that is, you learn to adapt!
I’m a city kid and a couch potato. Before my son was born, I hadn’t gone fishing in 30 years. I didn’t own any fishing gear, didn’t know how to put a hook on a line or how to bait a hook. I’m STILL no professional! But I’ve managed to do a decent job and have a lot of fun with my son anyway.
As for coaching, look… when kids are LITTLE, coaching is easy. The coach is often whichever Dad shows up and brings the after-game drinks and snacks. When they get bigger, there will be real coaches who actually know strategy and will teach the kids the right way to do things.
But with younger kids, as Woody Allen used to say, 75% of success is just showing up! You don’t need to be a genius to fill out a lineup card, or to say, “Joey, you go in for Billy the next play.” You think MY youth league roller hoickey coach knew anything about hockey? He was just a Dad who was willing to give up a few hours every Saturday morning.
An important rule to learn as a parent is that you frequently will not get exactly what you asked for from other people.
My biggest worries: That my youngest son will not develop enough skills to allow him to live independently. He’s high-functioning autistic but the jury is out on exactly how high-functioning. I mean, I don’t mind the idea of him hanging around with us indefinitely. I just worry about what would happen to him after we’re gone. But he still might mature into a perfectly capable and self-sufficient adult. I just don’t know at this point.
Me too. (About my daughter, I mean, not yours.) My 9 year old girl is smart, popular and conventionally pretty - blond haired, blue eyed and naturally slim. She is not a great leader, but she’s got the makings of a perfect lieutenant to the reigning Mean Girl, whoever that may be. Several times on the playground, I’ve heard her say to her friend, “No, I won’t do that, that’s mean,” or something similar, which gives me hope, but…there’s still that fear that one day she will cave and turn into a Mean Girl to keep her friendships intact.
The worries don’t end when they are no longer “young children.” I worry that my son is 21 and has not (to my knowledge) had a romantic relationship since his first when he was 15ish. I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl or something else, but I do worry that he doesn’t seem greatly interested in peer relationships or romance, which is the stage of life he “should” be at. Or if he is and I don’t know about it, I worry that he’s afraid to tell me about it.
I worry whether my son will be happy or not, I know his life is going to be difficult but I hope he is able to find a place where he is happy.
I’m almost certainly on the autism spectrum, and my childhood and teen years and young adult years were HARD and difficult with lots of pointless struggle. My son is showing all the signs on being on the spectrum as well and I hope he can find an easier path to being happy.
I’m happy now with my life but for many years I was totally lost and miserable, I hope my son has an easier time finding a place in life where he is happy.
Global warming.
Seriously.
Here I’ve got a kid who could well live to see the beginning of the 22nd century (which is a real mindblower right there, for a guy who can remember the 1950s), and it looks like the assholes running our politics will keep us from ameliorating it in time.
I’ll probably check out of here around 2050 and miss the worst of it, but he’s gonna live another half-century, and that’s when things are gonna get nasty.
Weirdly, a lot of this relates to things I feel about my daughter. With the caveat that she’s only three, so this could change – or at least change in the way it plays out with her peers – she’s really a “go along” kind of kid. Other kids like her because she’s pretty laid back and flexible - she’ll cheerfully play the game the other kids choose. I think this will serve her well in a lot of situations, but also worry it’s what could lead to her going along with a group of kids who are picking on another kid.
Another aspect of this is that she’s quick to remove herself from a situation that isn’t working out for her – if another kid doesn’t want to play with her, it’s no big thing, she’ll just move on to something else. I’ve seen her witness another little girl crying because an older boy didn’t let her join a playground game, and my daughter asked me, incredulously, why the little girl didn’t simply go play on the slide or the swings. I have a touch of this trait as well – even in adult interactions, I’m often wondering why someone doesn’t just WALK AWAY (metaphorically) from a bad social situation. I wonder if creates a lack of empathy – will she really get that someone who is excluded can be very upset by this?
Lately, my biggest worry hasn’t been about something happening to my 4 y/o…I’ve been worried that something will happen to my Dad.
Kiddo is super attached to Gramps. If my Dad dies it would absolutely break his heart.
Abstractly, I think about how climate change, superbugs, antibiotic/antibacterial resitant germs and the like will become greater threats over time.
Oh, and I also worry that his mom lets him play on a trampline. I think she’s not as cautious as I am with him.