My wife and I agreed that this year, we'd cover the other for each respective Parents' Day, allowing the other to take time to get out/about without the constraints that come from doing so as a family unit. A 'day off' for each of us. She had hers earlier this year, and today is mine. We also agreed that this would not become a habit because we want the kids to be aware of and involved in the day. It was a tough decision for me to just take the day for myself, feeling that in many ways, I'd have greatly enjoyed splitting the day between the two of them and really immersing myself into the role. But a full day away is a rare opportunity, and half-days with each child can be easily arranged. So here I am, sipping an iced tea on the patio of the Los Gatos Borders book store, which provides one of the best views of the foothills, and pausing to reflect on and capture in writing just what this day means to me.
Most of my friends who have known me for years, and especially those who knew me before marriage, would confirm that I was one of the least likely to have children. I was adamantly against having them for the longest time, seeing the act of doing so as the end of one's own life in the sacrifice of attending to another's. In many ways, there's a degree of accuracy in that assessment, but there's significant oversight as well.
Becoming a parent was far from something I ran eagerly towards or embraced. Hell, I remember getting pretty pissy when a good friend of my wife pressed us on the issue of children shortly after our wedding. (Sorry, Bonnie). I was not absolutely against the idea when we married, but I was far from decided as well, and it was a difficult topic in our marriage for many years. It took a long time for me to sort out all of the fears and misgivings.
Even after agreeing to do this, I remained somewhat detached or removed as the pregnancy progressed. Like a young man who'd finally mustered up the strength to get in line for the most daunting roller coaster he'd ever seen, I found my way onto the coaster, the harness was in place, and there was no turning back. With the repetitive mantra of 'oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,', the slow ascension and the rhythmic clicking of the cars as they climbed higher and higher in prelude to the unknown ride that lie ahead served as a numbing agent to the anxiety building within.
I credit a short list of reasons to my consciously agreeing to board the parenthood train in the first place. There were a few good friends that planted the idea that I'd be a good parent, somebody the world needed out there putting their heart and soul into raising a good person. I'd dated a woman who had two young children, giving me an opportunity to be really involved in the experience of being a family, which also helped to 'soften the ground' so to speak. My niece Marissa became a pseudo-daughter for several years, giving me the opportunity to realize how rewarding it could be. And my lovely wife, who longed for a family, did her best to give me the freedom to hold my ground while also keeping just enough pressure on me to keep considering the possibilities.
I told her today how much I love our children. She said, 'You can thank me now'. I did and do.
Becoming a parent most definitely did and does turn your life completely upside down and sideways. There's little or no escaping that fact, unless you have unlimited funds and hire a team of nannies to do everything for you, in which case, you're not really allowed to participate in the pro-league discussions with those of us working hands-on 24x7.
As I'd anticipated, taking this step does mean that you are no longer able to live a self-obsessed life and that your time and energy become heavily focused on the life of another—or, in our case, the lives of two others. But what I had not given full consideration to for so many years is just how much there really is to gain from doing so and how rewarding even the smallest aspect of being a parent could be.
Being a father has broadened my own understanding of my own parents. It takes one's ability to relate to them to an entirely new level. It's no longer possible to isolate your view of them as parents without also putting them into perspective as people who went through everything you're going through, all for you. If you have kids and don't circle back to your own parents and tell them you appreciate the sacrifices, you're not giving them credit for having done so.
You can't beat coming home to the excited screams of 'Daddy' and the excitement, hugs, and their exuberant need to have your attention long enough to relate the story of seeing an airplane, going to the park, picking up a snail, or any other number of stories about their day. Nor can you top the sensation that comes from having them run to you after a fall, scrape, or scare that rattles them enough that only your holding them can give comfort. And the same satisfaction comes from having them fall asleep in your arms or listening to your bedtime stories.
But there's work—lots of work. Oh my god, there's lots of work. And patience, unyielding patience, is essential. It's draining, exhausting, frustrating, and unending. For me, most, if not all, of these traits have had to be learned along the way, and none have been mastered so far, especially lately, when control is being constantly tested at every turn, and containing my exasperation is essential.
One of the best aspects of this experience is something I just came to realize this week. The desire and need to be a good parent and a good role model and the drive to raise a well-mannered, considerate, compassionate, and positive set of children extends beyond the need to teach and into the need to model. It's not enough to just want and try to give them the principles to be everything you want them to be, including things you might not be yourself... but doing so requires being that as well. There's no such thing as 'do as I say, not as I do' when it comes to being a parent; you'll learn quickly that what you say means far, far less than what you do. So within the experience of being a good parent, one is encouraged, if not forced by necessity, to become a better person themselves. And as somebody who'd inadvertently expressed his frustration at other drivers on the road by muttering 'Fucking Bitch', you can bet that I've had to learn the hard way that actions speak way louder then words, especially when those words might be loudly repeated by your children when you least expect it.
One last thing about being a parent that's an amazing experience is the recognition and respect for their innocence, and the need for you to do all you can to give them the tools necessary to be happy, confident, and considerate. If there's one thing I simply can not begin to comprehend and understand, it's the ability for anybody with any kind of awareness to distance themselves from the children. There are people out there that have fathered a child and left, or that have left a marriage and in doing so, isolated their involvement in that child's life to the monthly signing of a check and obligatory participation in holidays. As the adult in these situations, it's abhorrent to think that somebody would ever consider that they have a right to emotionally or financially abandon a child. How they can sleep at night is beyond my comprehension. Dennis Miller stated it perfectly:
The day won't be about the fact that I have children, but that I live up to what being a Father means to me.
Most of my friends who have known me for years, and especially those who knew me before marriage, would confirm that I was one of the least likely to have children. I was adamantly against having them for the longest time, seeing the act of doing so as the end of one's own life in the sacrifice of attending to another's. In many ways, there's a degree of accuracy in that assessment, but there's significant oversight as well.
Becoming a parent was far from something I ran eagerly towards or embraced. Hell, I remember getting pretty pissy when a good friend of my wife pressed us on the issue of children shortly after our wedding. (Sorry, Bonnie). I was not absolutely against the idea when we married, but I was far from decided as well, and it was a difficult topic in our marriage for many years. It took a long time for me to sort out all of the fears and misgivings.
Even after agreeing to do this, I remained somewhat detached or removed as the pregnancy progressed. Like a young man who'd finally mustered up the strength to get in line for the most daunting roller coaster he'd ever seen, I found my way onto the coaster, the harness was in place, and there was no turning back. With the repetitive mantra of 'oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,', the slow ascension and the rhythmic clicking of the cars as they climbed higher and higher in prelude to the unknown ride that lie ahead served as a numbing agent to the anxiety building within.
I credit a short list of reasons to my consciously agreeing to board the parenthood train in the first place. There were a few good friends that planted the idea that I'd be a good parent, somebody the world needed out there putting their heart and soul into raising a good person. I'd dated a woman who had two young children, giving me an opportunity to be really involved in the experience of being a family, which also helped to 'soften the ground' so to speak. My niece Marissa became a pseudo-daughter for several years, giving me the opportunity to realize how rewarding it could be. And my lovely wife, who longed for a family, did her best to give me the freedom to hold my ground while also keeping just enough pressure on me to keep considering the possibilities.
I told her today how much I love our children. She said, 'You can thank me now'. I did and do.
Becoming a parent most definitely did and does turn your life completely upside down and sideways. There's little or no escaping that fact, unless you have unlimited funds and hire a team of nannies to do everything for you, in which case, you're not really allowed to participate in the pro-league discussions with those of us working hands-on 24x7.
As I'd anticipated, taking this step does mean that you are no longer able to live a self-obsessed life and that your time and energy become heavily focused on the life of another—or, in our case, the lives of two others. But what I had not given full consideration to for so many years is just how much there really is to gain from doing so and how rewarding even the smallest aspect of being a parent could be.
Being a father has broadened my own understanding of my own parents. It takes one's ability to relate to them to an entirely new level. It's no longer possible to isolate your view of them as parents without also putting them into perspective as people who went through everything you're going through, all for you. If you have kids and don't circle back to your own parents and tell them you appreciate the sacrifices, you're not giving them credit for having done so.
You can't beat coming home to the excited screams of 'Daddy' and the excitement, hugs, and their exuberant need to have your attention long enough to relate the story of seeing an airplane, going to the park, picking up a snail, or any other number of stories about their day. Nor can you top the sensation that comes from having them run to you after a fall, scrape, or scare that rattles them enough that only your holding them can give comfort. And the same satisfaction comes from having them fall asleep in your arms or listening to your bedtime stories.
But there's work—lots of work. Oh my god, there's lots of work. And patience, unyielding patience, is essential. It's draining, exhausting, frustrating, and unending. For me, most, if not all, of these traits have had to be learned along the way, and none have been mastered so far, especially lately, when control is being constantly tested at every turn, and containing my exasperation is essential.
One of the best aspects of this experience is something I just came to realize this week. The desire and need to be a good parent and a good role model and the drive to raise a well-mannered, considerate, compassionate, and positive set of children extends beyond the need to teach and into the need to model. It's not enough to just want and try to give them the principles to be everything you want them to be, including things you might not be yourself... but doing so requires being that as well. There's no such thing as 'do as I say, not as I do' when it comes to being a parent; you'll learn quickly that what you say means far, far less than what you do. So within the experience of being a good parent, one is encouraged, if not forced by necessity, to become a better person themselves. And as somebody who'd inadvertently expressed his frustration at other drivers on the road by muttering 'Fucking Bitch', you can bet that I've had to learn the hard way that actions speak way louder then words, especially when those words might be loudly repeated by your children when you least expect it.
One last thing about being a parent that's an amazing experience is the recognition and respect for their innocence, and the need for you to do all you can to give them the tools necessary to be happy, confident, and considerate. If there's one thing I simply can not begin to comprehend and understand, it's the ability for anybody with any kind of awareness to distance themselves from the children. There are people out there that have fathered a child and left, or that have left a marriage and in doing so, isolated their involvement in that child's life to the monthly signing of a check and obligatory participation in holidays. As the adult in these situations, it's abhorrent to think that somebody would ever consider that they have a right to emotionally or financially abandon a child. How they can sleep at night is beyond my comprehension. Dennis Miller stated it perfectly:
"Alright, our society is increasingly made up of people who's parents bailed out on them. You wanna do something about it? Don't bail out on your own kids. How's that for a simple 'can do'? Rise up out of your own mire of narsissism and get selfless for Christ's sake. You want a better world? The seeds for it are right there in your own house. Be good to those tiny human's laying on the living room floor watching cartoons. Give them a future and they'll return the favor by giving you one in spades, my friend. If you can stare between the stars and into the blackness of heaven and say with a smile on your face I'll do anything and everything to be a good parent, then you're ready. Almost. Get yourself a copy of 'the Lion King'. Now, you're ready."Sorry, I got off on a bit of a rant there. But the bottom line here is that I am ready, I will do everything I can, and I take extreme pride in doing so. I know the future is uncertain; there will be defiance, there will be continued struggles, and there will be the constant pushing of boundaries and testing of limits. In the end, if I can manage to continue to grow as well and stay ahead of the game, they'll never feel unloved, never feel they took a back seat, and will always greet the annual occurrence of Father's Day with the most positive and fulfilling memories.
The day won't be about the fact that I have children, but that I live up to what being a Father means to me.
"It's hard to explain how a few precious things
Seem to follow throughout all our lives
After all's said and done I was watching my son
Sleeping there with my bear by his side
So I tucked him in, I kissed him and as I was going
I swear that the old bear whispered "Boy, welcome home"
- Kenny Loggins - Return to Pooh Corner