One of my discoveries upon becoming a parent is that I developed many more fears than I previously had. I didn’t really have all that many before, heights didn’t faze me, physical pain wasn’t really something that concerned me. Perhaps, thinking back, public speaking was something that filled me with dread, but now that I’m a parent and have all these extra fears, the threat of speaking to a group is no longer a problem.
You see, the fears that I’ve developed are not about me, they are about my kids. From what can happen to them right now, to what will come of them in their lives. I am petrified of things going wrong for them, and, interestingly, fearful of buggering things up for them myself.
I won’t lie, I want them, particularly my sons, to share my interests. If they grow up to enjoy footy, cricket, reading and writing, then I’d be pretty damn happy with how things have panned out. I’m mindful of protecting them against themselves too, which is why, when Richo came to me really wanting to play Under 8s footy this year I was beyond reluctant. I didn’t want him to play at all.