I feel special in Sweden. I also often feel alone at the park or in the preschool dressing room. But I also feel special. I hug my kids a little more, am a little louder, don’t make them wear their snowsuit every afternoon, swing them in big circles and talk both to them and to myself as I hunt for the lost mitten (and there is always a lost mitten).
We went to a park today here in northern California. And it was filled with dads. And it was filled Americans. And, even though this happens every time we come to California, or I hang out with American dads in Sweden, it dawned on me that I am not special at all.
I mean, I’m sure I’m special and unique and will get a trophy at some point. But it is a good reminder to see all these guys taking care of their kids, to see all these parents talking like I do and playing like I do.
It’s not that American parenting is better. It’s not. It’s not worse either.
And it is both good and bad to feel part of the crowd.
It was good today.