An Age for Ages

5 Nov

Here’s an honest parenting observation: parents like to micro-manage age.

Ask a pregnant woman how far along she is and she tells you in weeks. Ask a young father how old their screaming baby is and he tells you in months. See what I mean? Micro-managers. All of them! As I continue my tragic plight as a white, middle-class male in America I find myself yet again left out. I am very simply labeled as “26 years old”. Blegh. What ever happened to my months age? What? Are you trying to tell me that I am not cute enough to be labeled as a dashing, dapper 314-month old?

But seriously, when does the micro-aging stop and true aging begin? I hear a lot about 18 month-old children, so I assume that at a year and a half old you’re still being corralled in the same old pig slop. Perhaps it is at the “terrible two” stage when parents finally determine that is no longer savvy to scream, “OK! THAT’S ENOUGH YOU 26-MONTH OLD TITAN OF TERROR!”. Maybe?

Last night as the Mrs and I were having our usual closing discussions before trailing off to sleep I declared that I would refuse to micro-manage my son’s age. Once he swan dives into that beautiful chocolate(?) birthday cake on March 15, 2014, then he will thenceforth (THAT’S STILL A WORD!!) be subject to the same age abuse and discrimination that his father is. He shall be one. One whole glorious year old. After a solid counter-argument from the wife, I did decide to allow an “18-month” nomenclature into the mix… Actually I said, “Oh, you mean a year and a half? Yes he will be 1.5 (read: one-point-five) years old at that point, I agree”. She rolled her eyes and said goodnight… and the dissenters add to their number. But I won’t be deterred. There is nothing to gain in piling the responsibilities of the 15th month onto such an innocent, sweet human being.

Maybe I just don’t get it; perhaps it is a point of pride. “I’ve managed to keep this growing child alive for a whole 13 months!”. I could understand that because most times I am thrilled when I manage to keep him alive while Josie goes to lie down for a short nap. But I don’t buy it. In fact, if it was a pride thing I’d be more in favor of a little friendly rounding — anything above 10 months is just as good as a year. How does that sound? I like it.

I’m not trying to be a visionary. I’m just a humble man, out on the campaign trail. Parents around the world, join me! Let’s make micro-managing of our children’s age a thing of the past. Together we can stop this pandemic. Together we can stop it from being their age for ages.

Now, go ahead and check out this strapping, young 235-day-old baby:


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