What Kind of Parental Stereotype are You? (5 Ways I’m Not a “Normal” Dad)

What Kind of Parental Stereotype are You? (5 Ways I’m Not a “Normal” Dad)

This past weekend I took my dad and my son to see Star Trek Beyond. It was a really fun and exciting movie to us to see together.

While I was there at the theater, I noticed the promotional posters for the R-rated Bad Moms. I found them to be interesting, as they stereotyped several types of “bad” moms.

What Kind of Parental Stereotype are You? (5 Ways I’m Not a “Normal” Dad)

They included… It got me thinking, “How would I be stereotyped as parent, by the outside world?”

What Kind of Parental Stereotype are You? (5 Ways I’m Not a “Normal” Dad)

For me, it’s simple: I would likely be “The Token Quirky Daddy Blogger.”

In so many ways, I live on the fringes of what our American pop culture deems as normal for a dad; as my wife and I raise our Kindergartner son and 3 month-old daughter:

  1. I’m not a sports fan. (However, I’m very active in exploring and hiking with my son.)

2. I don’t personally believe in spanking as an effective method of discipline.

3. I’m a vegan who raises my children as vegetarians.

4. I’m a faithful Dave Ramsey follower, who will surely ultimately brainwash my kids accordingly.

5. I get free stuff from companies by blogging about their products.

While that last one may not seem so strange, I have to recognize that the average dad out there can’t just inform major car companies he’s going on a road trip and be sent a brand-new car for that week with a full tank of gas to drive to the family events he’s been given complimentary passes to because he will also be promoting them on his blog as well.

So therefore, I accept my label: I’m the token quirky daddy blogger.

What Kind of Fun Parental Stereotype are You? (5 Ways I’m Not a “Normal” Dad)

If you ever see me out in public with my family, you’ll see a $600 camera looped around my wrist, as I take pictures of my own family like I’m the paparazzi.

That’s simply what’s normal for me. I’ll never be able to go on vacation, or even to Whole Foods Market, without taking an array of photos, assuming a blog post will develop out of the event.

So that’s my fun parental stereotype, what’s yours?

I Try to Make a Point Everyday Not to Die

I Try to Make a Point Everyday Not to Die

I don’t mean to sound morbid, but I’m sort of obsessed with not dying.

In the trailer for the upcoming Star Trek Beyond movie, there is an interesting conversation:

Mr. Spock proclaims, “The fear of death is illogical.”

Captain Kirk replies, “The fear of death is what keeps us alive.”

Both men make brilliant points; and together, they present a perfect paradox:

The fear of death is illogical and yet it keeps us alive.

Now at age 35, happily married with a wife and 2 kids, a “real house”, and a solid career, my life is clearly settled.

I’m no longer trying to figure my life out like I was back in 2001 when John Mayer’s “Why Georgia” was such a relatable song; as he ponders his “quarter-life crisis” proclaiming, “I wonder sometimes about the outcome of a still verdictless life… Am I living it right?”

It’s inevitable that at some point, I am going to die, so it’s truly illogical to allow myself to believe otherwise.

I assume that for the human race, that mystery of not knowing for sure what happens the moment we die only adds to the fear of dying. I don’t fear death itself, though.

The moment I die, I’ll immediately know for sure whether my life of faith in Jesus as the Son of God was the right call.

If I was wrong about Christianity, I guess the worst that could happen is I’ll learn that ultimately I was simply part of some elaborate Matrix scheme inside somebody else’s head.

My fear isn’t of death itself or what happens after I die; it’s about missing out on my future in this life. My actual main motivation for not dying is simple and predictable:

There are 3 people are greatly depend on me for the rest are their lives.

Granted, I have a life insurance policy in place to pay off the house if anything happens to me. But beyond finances, I am motivated by the desire to finish out this storyline that has been set in place.

What started as a romantic comedy back on October 5, 2006 when I met my wife, has now evolved into a family sitcom.

I see the world through the eyes of a writer. So I, as the protagonist, can’t let myself die. I can’t just disappear right when the story is really getting good.

So what exactly do I do each day in an effort not to die?

Well, before I answer that, I quickly accept the fact that if the Lord decides to take me at any point, He can and He will, as Job told God:

“A person’s days are determined; You have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed.”

So I get it that I could randomly have a brain aneurysm and that would be the end of it.

But I instead focus on what I can control, not what I can’t.

For example, I refuse to talk on the phone while I’m driving. I always wear my seat belt.

Plus, I know that as an American man, I’m much more likely to die from preventable health issues than anything else.

Unless I’m really proactive on my end, as a stereotypical male, I am especially in the running to die of a heart attack, diabetes, stomach cancer, or prostate issues.

Therefore, I run. I mountain bike. I take walks throughout the day.

I obviously don’t smoke.

And while it’s not a popular decision or lifestyle, especially as a masculine American man, I have committed to my vegan (and therefore vegetarian and kosher) lifestyle for years now.

Yeah, I get it. I could totally be setting myself up to be the Mr. Play-It-Safe who Alanis Morrisette speaks about in her classic song, “Ironic.”

It’s not that I’m not trying to overwrite God’s predetermined number of days for me. Instead, I am trying to outsmart the more subtle and predictable ways that as a man, I might die too young.

Therefore, I try to make a point everyday not to die.

I can only do much. But I can do some.