Helicopter Mom vs. Jimmy Buffett Dad

Helicopter(ˈheləˌkäptər) Mom vs.(ˈvərsəs) Jimmy(ˈjimē) Buffett(ˈbəfət) Dad

Comedian(kəˈmēdēən) Michelle Buteau thought the hard part was over when she and her husband welcomed twins after struggling with infertility(ˌinfərˈtilədē). Little did she know.

By Michelle Buteau

These differences in our backgrounds have created an interesting push-and-pull. And by “interesting,” I mean annoying(əˈnoiiNG). To my husband, I’m not just a helicopter mom. I’m a drone(drōn)-on-top-of-a-snowplow(ˈsnōˌplou) mom. To me, my husband is too casual(ˈkaZHo͞oəl) and relaxed. Toddler(ˈtädlər) time is not a Jimmy Buffett concert!

I’m constantly thinking, “OK, which pens, coins or sharp items on the floor can they put in their mouths?” “Where are the fragile(ˈfrajəl) objects they could grab and possibly break on each other’s heads like The Three Stooges(sto͞oj)?” “Are all the electrical(əˈlektrək(ə)l) outlets plugged in or covered?” In the meantime(ˈmēnˌtīm), my husband is letting them climb(klīm) a bookcase. And when they can’t get down, he says, “Figure it out” in Dutch(dəCH). Figure what out, exactly(iɡˈzak(t)lē)? How many stitches(stiCH) they will need?

One day at the park, I felt like I was the only one watching the kids while he sat on the bench(ben(t)SH) looking on. When I asked him to help me, he said, “They’re fine, just let them be.” Let. Them. Be? Let these emotional rotisserie(rōˈtisərē) chickens just run around by themselves? With strange kids? And new objects? What if they eat sand? Why aren’t you worried? Don’t you care? He hit me with, “Worry and anxiety aren’t how I show affection.” I would have argued, but I was too busy making sure the twins weren’t dipping their pacifiers(ˈpasəˌfī(ə)r) in the sandbox.

I guess the point is, who is right here? Am I overly anxious? Is he too casual? Does every couple experience this?