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the only thing on my husbands description would be the word fun written in big red letters along the top. although he is a selfless caregiver and provider, our children think of him more as a combination of a jungle gym and bozo and clown. our parenting styles compliment each other. his style is a nonstop adventure where no one has to worry about washing their hands, eating vegetables, or getting cavities. my style is similar to mussolini. im too busy worrying to be fun. besides, every time i try, i am constantly outdone by my husband.i bought my children bubble gum flavored toothpaste and i taught them how to brush their teeth in tiny circles so they wouldnt get cavities. they thought it was neat until my husband taught them how to rinse by spitting out water between their two front teeth like a fountain.i took the children on a walk in the woods and, after two hours, i managed to corral a slow ladybug into my sons insect cage. i was cool until their father came home, spent two minutes in the backyard, and captured a beetle the size of a chihuahua. i try to tell myself i am a good parent even if my husband does things i cant do. i can make sure my children are safe, warm, and dry. ill stand in line for five hours so the children can see santa at the mall or be first in line to see the latest disney movie. but i cant wire the vcr so my children can watch their favorite video.i can carry my children in my arms when they are tired, tuck them into bed, and kiss them goodnight. but i cant flip them upside down so they can walk on the ceiling or prop them on my shoulders so they can see the moths flying inside of the light fixture.i can take them to doctor appointments, scout meetings, or field trips to the aquarium, but ill never go into the wilderness, skewer a worm on a hook, reel in a fish, and cook it over an open flame on a piece of tin foil. | 
