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You Love ’Em to Death, but They Drive You Fucking Mental
Last December, my wife had one of her brilliant ideas. “Ozzy,” she said to me one morning. “Let’s go to England, get all the kids together, and have a traditional family Christmas in our family home in the English Countryside. It’ll be lovely. What do you think?”
“Are you sure?” I said. “The kids are grown-up now. Maybe they want to do their own thing.”
“Oh, Ozzy,” she said. “Of course they’ll want to be with their mum and dad. Besides, it’s the house where they all grew up.”
I wasn’t very convinced. “Look, Sharon,” I said. “Are you absolutely sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Of course I do!” she replied.
Needless to say, it was a fucking disaster. Peace on earth? It would have been more peaceful if we’d gone to Tripoli. Could the kids get along with each other for more than five seconds? Not on your life. If it wasn’t one, it was the other. All I could hear were slammed doors, houseplants being thrown across the room, and people screaming at each other. It was so bad at one point, I almost fell off the wagon and had a beer. Finally, on Christmas day, I got up, went downstairs, and said to everyone, “Look: all I want for Christmas is for you to get on, even if you have to fake it—just for ONE fucking day!”
Everyone nodded, hung their heads, and agreed to calm down. It lasted three hours. Then they were back at it again, worse than before. It broke my heart, to be honest with you—and it broke Sharon’s heart, too. I was just so disappointed, y’know? But you can only do so much with your kids, then you’ve just got to let ’em get on with it. The thing is, everyone wants the perfect family—but it doesn’t exist. We all dream of our cozy little domestic get-togethers, where everyone says how much they love each other, everyone remembers the good times, and no-one gets angry or jealous or has any issues. As Dr. Ozzy, I’ve come to realise that all families are made up of human beings, and human beings are by their very nature messy and emotional and full of all kinds of fears and insecurities. If that sounds familiar to you, I recommend you read on, ’cos this chapter takes you through just about every issue you’re ever likely to face with your own flesh and blood, all the way from the womb to the nursing home.
I: BASIC PARENTING
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
My husband and I are trying to have a second baby, and we’d love it to be a girl. Is there anything we can do in the bedroom department to skew the odds in our favour?
Pamela, London
I’ve heard lots of whacky theories about “gender swaying” over the years: do it standing on your head for a boy; keep your left sock on for a girl; drink lemon juice for a boy; cranberry juice for a girl… etc., etc. It’s all bollocks if you ask me, and the bottom line is, even if you want a girl and you get a boy, you ain’t gonna love him any less. And there’s something to be said for the surprise. When Sharon and I had our son, Jack, we had no idea what sex he was, ’cos he was lying in a funny position when they did the sonogram. In fact, we were convinced he was gonna be a girl, ’cos we had two daughters already, so when he popped out with a full set of tackle, our jaws hit the floor. If you want more certainty, a fertility clinic might be able to help—you can probably order a kid with purple hair and glow-in-the-dark eyes, never mind a girl—but if I were you, I’d stop worrying. The only thing that really matters is that your little one is healthy.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
My wife’s pregnant, and every time we leave the house, I get paranoid that her “waters” might break. What does this mean, anyway? Would I have to deliver the baby myself?
Jason, Cardiff
From what I understand—which ain’t very much—babies grow inside a little watery sac thing, and when that bursts, the kid’s ready to pop out. That’s what it means when a pregnant woman’s “water breaks.” But there’s no need to get all paranoid about it: even if it happens in public, it doesn’t mean you have to deliver your son with a toilet plunger and wooden spoon, or whatever it is you’re imagining. All you need to do is drive your missus to the nearest hospital, sharpish. In fact, that’s exactly what I had to do when my first daughter, Jessica, was born. The only problem was, I didn’t know how to drive, and I’d been drinking all day. Apart from that, it was easy.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
My three-year-old son keeps being hit/kicked/bitten by the son of one of my friends. Worse, my friend never does anything about it. What can I do?
Catherine, Washington, UK
As a parent, you’ve just gotta accept that some kids play rougher than others. That’s all very well to say, mind you, until some brat whacks your little pumpkin over the back of the head with a wooden hammer. That happened to one of my own kids at a playground in Staffordshire once, and before I even had time to think, I just turned around and chinned the other kid’s dad. Looking back, I should have said something when the bullying first started—but I let it continue, getting worse and worse, until I finally blew my top. So I recommend you talk to your friend now—before she ain’t your friend any more.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Is it true that a cat might try to suffocate a newborn baby? My husband and I have just had our first child, and need to know if we should get rid of our eight-year-old moggy.
Victoria, Isle of Wight
I used to worry about the same thing. Basically, cats like sleeping in warm places—which is why they jump into cots—and people say they can smell the milk on a baby’s breath. But you don’t need to frog-march poor old Mr. Moggins outside at dawn and shoot him. Just keep the door to your baby’s room closed (as long as you’ve got a monitor) when the little one’s alseep. Problem solved.
DR. OZZY’S INCREDIBLY HELPFUL TIPS—
Operating Instructions for Children
Remember, babies aren’t that much different from rock stars. They go crazy if they don’t get enough to drink. They feel a lot better after they’ve thrown up on your new carpet. And they crap their pants more than once a day. Basically, the same as me during the most of the eighties.
Most strollers nowadays come with a beer holder and an ashtray. In an emergency, they can be also used to carry milk bottles and wet wipes.
Don’t even think about asking your own parents for advice about raising infants. At the age of 62, I’m lucky if I can remember why I just walked into a room, never mind how I changed a fucking nappy in 1972. Mind you, I don’t think I ever did change a nappy, so even if I could somehow go back in time, I still wouldn’t have a clue. Work out it for yourself.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I taught my three-year-old son a swear word for a laugh and now I can’t get him to stop saying it. I’m mortified. What should I do?
Catherine, Aberdeen
Never, ever, swear in front of little kids: their brains are hard-wired to pick up it—trust me. You can’t get ’em to learn the alphabet to save your life, but they’ll memorise every filthy word in the Oxford English dictionary in a heartbeat. I mean, yeah, it might crack you up to hear a toddler effing and blinding, but ain’t so funny when you take your little blue-eyed angel to the in-laws’, and he goes, “Hello grandma, you c***.”
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
My wife has signed up our son for football practice, piano lessons, and yoga. He’s two. Is this insane?
Alex, Oxford
It sounds like he’s ready to become Prime Minister. I mean, how old is David Cameron—four-and-a-half? Seriously though, my advice would be to leave the kid alone. Buy him a cowboy suit. Get him a fucking Lego set. It’s your missus who should sign up for something—like therapy. A lot of parents these days just seem to be passing on all their insecurities onto their kids. I mean, piano lessons at two? Give me a break, man. What’s next? Pilot training and deep sea diving classes? We pile all this pressure on to these little people then wonder why they’re burned out at nine. My advice: slow down.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
My four-year-old daughter is addicted to
Angry Birds on my iPad. Will this cause her any harm?
Scott, Los Angeles
I don’t understand a single word of this question. Why do you have birds on your iPad, and why are they pissed off? The only thing I can think of is that this is some kind of video game. If so, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your daughter playing it—it’s probably good for her—as long as there’s a time limit. And instead of snatching it away when her fifteen minutes (or whatever) is up—which will just make her want it more—trying distracting her with something else instead… like ice cream, heh-heh-heh.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Did you think twice before vaccinating your kids, given the controversey over vaccines and autism, or do you think the fear is overblown by a few hysterical Hollywood actor types?
Steve, Bognor
Hand on heart, I can’t say I had anything to do with the decision to vaccinate our kids—I was too busy vaccinating myself with lakes of booze. But I was as freaked out as the next parent when I heard all the talk a few years ago about the shots being linked to autism (the research turned out to be bullshit, but a lot of people are still very concerned). I mean, my sister got the flu vaccine this winter, and then came down with the worst flu of her life. So in a way it seems to make sense. But the thing is, they don’t stick needles in kids for fun—they do it ’cos the diseases they prevent are fucking horrendous. The only reason we don’t realise how bad things like whooping cough are is because they’ve been wiped out by the drugs. But here in California, where I live, babies are now dying from it again, ’cos no-one’s getting their shots. To me, it doesn’t make sense to expose your kids to things you know are dangerous to avoid something that hasn’t been proved to be dangerous—no matter how suspicious you might be of vaccine companies and their dodgy motives. But everyone’s different, and at the end of the day, it’s a decision you have to make for yourself.
Dear Dr. Ozzy,
I’m about to become the father of a baby boy, and while I’m not Jewish, I’m wondering if I should get him circumcised—it just seems so much cleaner. What’s your opinion?
Alan, Leicester
I ain’t Jewish, either, but I still got the old rusty scissor treatment—even though my two younger brothers didn’t. I remember asking my mum what she was thinking, expecting some kind of logical explanation. Instead, she just went, “Oh, it was the fashion.” The fashion? This was my most prized possession she was talking about, not a pair of bell-bottom jeans! Luckily I didn’t get any stick for the way I looked in the showers at school, mainly ’cos in those days, the only showers we got were when it rained. But is it more hygenic? Well, given some of the very dark and smelly places I explored in the 1970s, I would say “yes.” For most people, though, a bar of soap is probably just as effective.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Ever since our baby daughter was born, our three-year-old son has started to regress—making goo-goo, gah-gah noises, etc. Should we tell him to grow up and act like a “big boy,” or go along with it while making sure to give him more special attention?
Martha, Brixton
I feel very sad for the poor kid, ’cos he probably thinks his mum and dad don’t love him as much, now there’s a brand-new sibling in the house. As one of six Osbourne kids, I can fully sympathize. Because your son’s feeling insecure, I wouldn’t get mad at him for making the baby noises. That could just make it worse. A better idea would be to make an extra special effort to give him some one-on-one attention: buy him an ice cream, take him to his favourite park… whatever. You just need to reassure him that he ain’t forgotten. If he keeps making the baby noises after that, don’t tell him to stop it, just ask him gently to use his “big boy voice.” My guess is he’ll grow out of it before long.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
My wife wants to give our baby a pacifier. I’m putting up a fight, because I think it’ll be an impossible habit to break. What’s your expert medical opinion on this matter?
David, Cornwall
If you’re looking for some moral support, you’ve come to the wrong guy. I once sent a private jet halfway across America to go and get “Baby”—my son Jack’s teddy bear—after we left it in a hotel room. That fucking teddy bear pretty much ended up with its own security detail, we were so scared of losing it. We’ve still got it today, in fact. Meanwhile, my daughter Kelly didn’t just have one pacifier, she had two: one for each finger. And if it’s any reassurance, breaking the habit wasn’t difficult at all: one day, she just got bored of it, like kids do. Then it was straight on to the next big, exciting thing: her thumb.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I was looking through my 3-year-old son’s locker at nursey school the other day and discovered that his best male friend—same age—sent him a Valentine’s Day card. What’s more: the boy in question has two gay dads. I know we’re supposed to be cool about this kind of thing nowadays, but I’m freaking out. Advice?
Eric, Derby
It sounds to me like your problem isn’t with the Valentine’s Day card—the kid’s three, so he ain’t got a clue what it means, anyway—but with the two gay dads. I mean, would you be as freaked out if it were a boy with straight parents who’d sent it? Probably not. You’d probably think it was cute. So you need to sit yourself down, remind yourself the world has changed a lot in the past few fears, and get over it, to be honest with you.
II: ADVANCED PARENTING
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I found porn on my son’s computer. What should I do?
Liz, Los Angeles
I once found girlie magazines in my son’s room, but what was I going to say to him? I’m Ozzy fucking Osbourne. Luckily, you don’t have that problem—although the answer to your question really depends on your son’s age. If he’s 12, then I don’t think he should have unlimited access to a computer with an Internet connection. But if he’s 16 or older then I think it’s completely normal for him to be interested in that kind of thing—as long as it ain’t the really crazy freaky stuff. The fact is, even most grown men like the occasional blue movie. I watch ’em on the road from time to time, ’cos it’s better than picking up some groupie and having my balls turn green (not to mention the fact that I’m a happily married man). It can’t hurt to talk to your kid about all this, though, if you can pluck up the courage. Better yet, have his father or a male friend strike up a conversation about it. Being open is usually the best way.
Dear Dr. Ozzy,
My daughter has an enormous nose. I’m not going to lie: it’s huge (although she has always looked beautiful to me). She says it’s ruining her social life, and now she wants a nose job for her 14th birthday, which I’m told is normal these days. Advice?
Zan, Florida
There are a lot of people who’ll tell you that bullying makes you stronger and that you’ve gotta learn to take it if you want to get on in the world. The trouble is, though, when you’re being called “big nose” five hundred times a day at school because you’ve got Mount Everest stuck to your face, that ain’t very fucking helpful. Like everything, the people who are so sure you’ve got to put up with it don’t have to handle the problem themselves. And kids can be incredibly cruel, y’know? Not only that, but things you get teased for a school can mess you up for the rest of your life. To this day, I’m still very insecure about my dyslexia, because I was brought up being told that I was stupid. So look: people get birth-marks and other harmless stuff removed all the time because of the way they look. It’s no different with a giant conk. Buy her the nose job.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
My 10-year-old daughter borrowed my iPad without asking and found an explicit photograph of me and my girlfriend on it (I’m recently divorced from her mum). Now she won’t speak to me—and I’m terrified of what my ex-wife is going to do. Help!
Jerry, Milton Keynes
Adopt the brace position and prepare for bollocking of a lifetime—and to be honest with you, I ain’t exactly overflowing with sympathy. I mean, I’m useless when
it comes to iThis and iThat, but it doesn’t take a fucking genius to realise that you need to set a password before leaving a computer lying around, especially if there are kids in the house. Mind you, taking those dirty pictures in the first place wasn’t a very clever idea, either: you’re the one who’s supposed to warning your kids about “sexting,” not the other way around. The divorce only makes things worse, ’cos your daughter was probably feeling weird and insecure about your new relationship to begin with. When she can finally look you in the eye again, you need to have a heart-to-heart. And while you ain’t by any means in the clear yourself, you need to explain to her that some things are private, and that she can’t look at your stuff without permission. Point out to her that when she gets older, she’ll expect you to give her some personal space, too.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I suspect that my 15-year-old son is partaking in a bit of the old “sweet leaf”—ie, cannabis. Without alienating our good relationship, how can I deal with the, ahem, irony of it all?
“Lonnie,” Channel Islands
Here’s what I always tell myself: we were all kids once, and when we were worried about being caught doing anything bad, we’d lie. When my father gave me the, “If I ever catch you smoking cigarettes…” lecture, I still did it, but under wraps, so he wouldn’t find out. So don’t be militant about the drugs. Just come clean with your son, lay your cards on the table. Say, “Look, I know about the pot, and I’m worried.” Tell them that unlike the dickhead who’s been selling them weed, you love them unconditionally, and you’re the best friend they’ll ever have. It’s better to be cool with your kids than put up a brick wall, otherwise they’ll just go sneaking around behind your back.
Trust Me, I'm Dr Ozzy Page 6