Before Sir Monkeypants and I had kids, I had a secret list where I kept all the stupid reasons why I thought having kids would be a bad idea. Some were silly, some were serious, but eventually, I had an answer to all of them and we went ahead and had The Captain.
One of the reasons was the overwhelming fear that 18 years (at a minimum) of constant responsibility brings. You can never turn off the worry machine for a second; you can’t just sleep in when your kid is hungry and crying and needs a diaper change. Eighteen years seemed like an awfully, awfully long time.
This morning I watched Captain Jelly Belly work hard, with great concentration and determination, for several minutes to figure out how to open a cereal box, unroll the plastic inside, reach in and get a piece of cereal. I was so proud and awed that I actually thought to myself, “18 years of moments like this just isn’t going to be enough.”
I guess I’m hooked.
TurtleHead 
And you know, you *can* turn the worry machine off once in a while. It’s your life, too, and really, if your kid goes to bed hungry some night it won’t kill him.
Not that I’m advocating cruelty, but don’t be afraid to make mistakes. It’s our imperfections that make us interesting.
But hey, what the heck do I know? I have zero off-springs. Lucky for the off-springs.
I think it’s genetic — it’s totally impossible to turn off the worry machine when it’s your own kid! If you’re not worried about how much he ate today, or why his nose won’t stop running, or whether or not he has any clean pairs of pants left, you’re worried about big stuff like creepy pedophiles and cancer and idiots in minivans who cause car accidents.
That’s okay, though, because he’s really cute and totally worth it :).