Future apologies from the first generation of parents with a digital paper trail

Dear sons: it has occurred to me that I am the first generation of those who will leave a digital paper trail. This means that every withering status I've posted about parenthood, every unflattering baby photo of a catastrophic nappy explosion, every snigger posted online about a missing tooth, or eating your Halloween sweets after you'd gone to bed (major dick move, genuinely sorry), or self-deprecating comment about it all just being too damn much will be available to you some day. Your IT skills already intuitively surpass my own. So in advance, I am sorry.


How do I discuss body autonomy regarding children's haircuts?

I was visiting my brother who is a new step-parent to four children, three of whom are boys. He had decided to give all three of the boys buzz cuts for the summer. The oldest, who is 14, was protesting this and wanted to keep his hair his usual length. My brother, an admittedly more old skool type of guy, insisted on the haircut despite his stepson's request.

I wanted to say something about body autonomy, but resisted the urge. How do you think I should have handled that situation?

Bridging the gap with my children's interests: Why one geeky dad is learning to love cartwheels

I'm beginning to have an understanding of what my father felt when he came home after working all day, grabbed our baseball mitts, and stepped into my room to ask if I wanted to play catch. He would usually find me on the floor of my room, in the midst of a galactic battle between good and evil, Empire and Rebellion. Now that I'm a father, I find myself with two young daughters who have the same view of their father as their grandfather once held.


We didn't think we wanted to know our baby's sex — then we did

I was absolutely fine with keeping the sex of our baby a surprise. Really, I was. But then something happened to me around 22 weeks. I suddenly had a deep desire to know exactly what sort of babe was moving around in there. I felt detached and found it strange to say "the baby kicked me" and "do you want to feel the baby?" I needed a pronoun. More than that, I wanted a name. (We had a short list of lovely girl names to choose from, but absolutely no boy names. Which of course meant that we were definitely having a boy. In my head at least.)

Sometimes I fear the closeness between mother and child

It's been an uncomfortable adjustment to motherhood, this reality that not even if I wanted to, and don't we all want to, sometimes, I can't hide myself from him. Growing a person inside you, birthing them out into the world, it was heavy stuff for me. I wanted it, without a doubt, but I had no idea how much I'd crave being alone.