In Praise of Daddy

"When I big, I want to be a library dude and a daddy."

Yesterday, we were traveling home from story time when my three year old made this declaration. I knew why he wanted to be a "library dude," he is obssessed with trying to go behind the counter where only librarians are allowed and he has told me that he wants to play with books all day like the "library dudes." I was curious what he would say about why he wanted to be a daddy, though, so I asked him. Here was his answer, "Because a daddy gets to hug and kiss his baby." I began to tear up. My son is growing up to be an amazing man, and it is thanks, in large part, to what his daddy is teaching him about what it means to be a father and a man.

The first year of being a parent is really difficult. In our house, this was especially challenging because of our son's digestive issues and insistance that only "Mama" would do. This meant that I almost never left him and when I did, my poor husband had to helplessly listen to my baby cry the whole time I was gone even though he was lovingly holding him and soothing him just as I would have. (Usually, this was not more than half an hour or so, but when I went to the dentist when my son was four months old, he screamed all 72 minutes I was gone getting my teeth cleaned.) My husband, who was completely smitten with our son and was desperate to spend as much time and have as much contact with him as possible was very frustrated by our son's strong preference for me the first six months. He would complain that he felt so left out of his own family and I, stressed out as all new mothers are, tried to explain to him that his time was coming. One day, our son would enter the "era of daddy" and all the things he was doing all along would suddenly add up and he would see just how important he is as his son's father and role model and how much his son appreciates him. It didn't stop my husband from occasionally feeling superfluous and rejected, but he did what my son was most comfortable with and played with/cared for him every chance he could and when my son would not settle for less than mama, he handed him to me. He did what every caring father does: exactly what his son needed at the time.

As he grew older, my husband and my son found ways to bond that I never would have thought of. Our son originally practiced standing by holding on to daddy's legs as he shaved. Whenever we went for family walks, my husband would always want to wear him in his carrier and would joyfully entertain him by running and jumping and doing all kinds of physical acrobatics, that frankly, I would have been afraid to do! My husband began sharing his passion for MSU football, first by insisting that the baby stay in the room on an MSU blanket listening to the game, then by bouncing him in tune with the fight song as the game went on, and then by sitting next to him and telling him about football as our son hummed merrily along and occasionally threw out his own football commentary: "Look, hats! They fall down! Oh, no! He's nigh-nigh!" It was no surprise to me, when at eight months, my son chose to take his first crawling steps on the weekend toward his daddy when I was out of the room. Eight weeks later, he also took his first walking steps towards his daddy (at least I was in the room that time!). You see, I was his comfort and his home base, but his father is the future he is forever moving toward.

I know that many boys grow up in loving homes without their fathers and go on to be great men, but when a man takes the time to provide a good example of what good, caring fatherhood looks like, well, it's a wonderful, beautiful thing. What I especially loved about my son's reason for wanting to be a daddy was that what he appreciates most about his daddy isn't how much fun he is (which is, I'll admit, way more fun than mama) or that he does cool things like takes him to hockey games or that he teaches him neat skills like how to trash talk (accidentally taught him that, I might add and, thankfully, cleanly. . .no swears!). What my son sees as the best part of being a "daddy" and a man, is his capacity for tenderness and love--his ability to "kiss and hug his baby." What better teacher could my baby have for how to be a real man than the example of his father? So, for all the daddies out there who are struggling, trying to find your place in your young child's daily life or schedule. Don't Give Up! You are an integral part of who your child is learning to be and what your child is learning about men and what men can and should do. Keep up the good work and give lots of hugs and kisses. Even when you don't think they are noticing, they are!

Thanks for reading,
Shawna

A Memory for Father's Day: Belly Laughs

I don’t remember where we were living at the time. I don't remember what we were wearing or where we had been. What I do remember is that we were in the car and it was summer. I was wearing some sort of sundress and I could feel the hot car seat sticking to my legs. I think the car was stopped because I can remember him looking at me, but maybe we were just stuck in traffic or he was looking at me in the rearview mirror. I remember the sun was bright and shone with that yellowishness that only happens in the late afternoon before it starts setting. I don’t even remember what he said, whether he stole my nose, or even if he just made a face in the mirror to make me laugh.

What I do remember is the look on his face, the way his blue eyes glinted with joy in the late afternoon sunlight and his smile being so bright that it seemed to eclipse the rest of his face. I also remember the sound of him laughing at his own joke (whatever it was) and anyone who has ever heard my dad laugh know that his is the kind of laugh that pervades the air and makes you want to be a part of it. Most of all, I remember laughing one of those deep belly laughs that shakes your stomach until it hurts and makes you almost pee your pants. I remember laughing so loud the sound almost scared me and thinking I have the greatest daddy in the whole wide world and even at the age of probably three or so, I remember wishing that moment would go on forever. And it does in my heart.

And that’s it, that’s the whole memory, but aren’t I lucky to have the kind of dad that makes your first memories, no matter how fragmented, still joyful? Too often as parents we spend time worrying about the kind of memories we are making with our children by planning the perfect family vacations, the perfect daily schedule, or making the perfect home, but the memories that really last and are the most important are the perfect moments that no one can plan. You just have to show up and be available and they come to you and then last a lifetime. The rest is just unnecessary, unmemorable details. So, this father's day, celebrate the men in your lives who make themselves available as often as they can to make memories that never will never leave you.

Happy Father's Day, William Archer!
Love,
Shawna

Here's to the Connected Dad!

 Rocking his matching sling with Connected Son

We don't always see eye to eye, me and the Connected Dad, but he's always willing to discuss my harebrained ideas. He might be a bigger lactivist than I am, he loves wearing a baby, and he'll tell anyone that co-sleeping is the best thing you can do as a parent. He loves the family bed, he encourages homebirth, and he's a fantastic cook. We are so very blessed.

 After 24 hours of labor and a c-section, he was in awe of Connected Daughter.