My latest parenting tactic is polling. I’m surrounded by experienced parents; why not use them to my benefit? When I got to the office yesterday and was worried about the screamy nugget, I asked the parent cohort in the cubes. Unanimous vote? Pediatrician. Done. It’s not that I’m insecure in my ability to parent; it’s that I know fierce love can make crazy mom. I trust in these fine, upstanding, entertaining and similarly crazy parents to tell me like it is. They do not hold back.

I’m assuming our moms are reading this and thinking,

What am I, chopped liver?

We love you both, but you are still the bosses of us. By demanding input from peers, we can pretend that we’re still in control of this whole scene. Let us maintain the illusion – false grandeur is all we have to hold on to.

Strangely enough, I find different parenting methods are not even remotely disturbing to me when I go for the groupthink. I’m not asking about milestones, introducing new foods, or really anything with significance. I’m requesting backup in worry. Fortunately, all parents stockpile worry. By assuring me that a pediatrician visit is in order, they reaffirm their right to drag their screaming little ones to their doctor on a weekly basis. Maybe I should be citing codependency. At any rate, the international cameraderie is seductive. This will come up again.

Deuce = still in. Yay!