13 Things This Guy Knows About Daddyhood
Filed under: Thursday Thirteen Author:
by Daniel T.
FatherBunker Guest Writer
When Beth asked me to write “13 things that every father should know,” I started to wonder, “Why me?” Yes, I have a 6-year-old son, but there are fathers who have many more kids ... dads that stay at home with their kids ... fathers who have sacrificed more for their kids. Then, I realized that Beth knew that I could write on deadline. Without complaint. For no money whatsoever. {ed note: That's just how I roll. And also, Mr. MotherBunker declined.} If that makes me “father of the year,” then so be it.
In reality, it’s been rather amazing to think about how my entire perspective on life has changed. I’ve learned an incredible amount in the last 6-7 years, and even though every kid is different, I came up with my list of things that every dad should know (or already knows).
1) It’s the toughest job you’ll ever love ...
Yeah, I know, this is an obvious one, but it’s a good starting point. Being a dad is the first 24/7 responsibility any of us have ever had. OK, marriage might qualify, but you’re not so much “responsible” as you are “accountable” in that situation. I mean, your wife won’t expire if left to her own devices (unless you married Paris Hilton). Well, maybe if you were a sergeant with a platoon full of green soldiers operating in a war zone, that might qualify. But for most of us, it’s unlike anything we’ve ever experienced because of the time, effort and care that you put into this gig. And it’s a blast.
2) ... but it’s really not that tough (as much as we’d like to think otherwise).
The only piece of advice I typically give expectant dads is this: Becoming a father is like going to college. When you’re getting ready to go off to school, everybody tells you the horror stories. “You’ll have to study three hours for every one you spend in class.” Or, “The professors don’t care if you live or die.” You get there, though, and the actual experience isn’t nearly as bad as all of this. See, people hold onto the mosthorrifying memorable moments and pass them along. Same with having kids. Everybody tells you about the vomiting on the bed or the time the kid set fire to the house. The stories about a quiet morning watching TV aren’t interesting enough for any conversation. {ed note: Dude, that is TOTALLY interesting to MotherBunker. Just so you know.}
3) In the delivery room, if the nurse says, “Hey Dad, look here,” DO NOT LOOK unless you are fully prepared for what you might see.
Just trust me on this one. I didn’t pass out, but boy, I sure turned a deeper shade of pale.
4) Realize that you’re always living by example.
Another no-brainer, you’d say, but I see a lot of parents who admonish their kids to say “please” and “thank you” but never do that themselves. {ed note: There is no need to call me out on my own blog, Daniel.} Kids mimic everything you do. It’s how they learn. If you act politely and use good manners, your kids will pick up on that. Now, of course, you’ll have to reinforce that behavior from time to time, but you can’t do one thing and say another. Kids are great hypocrite detectors. {ed note: Does that mean I have to start sharing my Cabernet? Because I’m pretty sure that stuff will stain her princess cup.}
5) There is no way to totally get prepared for fatherhood, but you can draw on a few life experiences.
In college, I had a job in a newspaper mailroom where I would sometimes get home at 3 or 4 a.m. After catching 2-3 hours of sleep, I’d be up and ready for an 8 a.m. class. I was just doing it as a way to make some dough, but it also helped me prepare for nights of fitful, oft-interrupted sleep that you experience with a newborn (and beyond). If you’ve raised a puppy or helped take care of younger kids, you at least have some inkling of the ordeal to come.
6) Kids are a blank slate, so use it wisely.
I’m a UNC grad, so I’ve spent hours building a healthy hatred of all things Duke. {ed note: Um, I think you mean “Dook,” but it’s OK; my spellchecker caught it.} Sure, it’s petty and stems from a bunch of drunken evenings in college. But, it’s something my son and I share, and it’s a great way to relate. Until he decides that he wants to be a Blue Devil some day. Ugh ... let’s move on.
7) Be prepared to give up some things ...
I used to play tennis several times a week. Probably played golf about 10 times a year. Now, my tennis racket is collecting dust and my golf clubs are rusting in the garage. It’s hard to justify that much time out of the house when I want to be a family guy when I have free time.
8) ... but be ready to get your kids involved in your activities.
Instead of doing things in absence of my son, he goes with me to my own thirtysomething athletic endeavors like volleyball and basketball games. He is learning about the sports that I’m playing, and it won’t be too long before he’ll be ready to take part.
9) When it’s time for him or her to pick up sports, be prepared to get involved but don’t be TOO involved.
This is a hot-button issue for me, but it’s something almost every dad will face. How to support – and how much to get involved – with your kids sports. Problems don’t emerge when you working with them one-on-one. It’s when you’re seeing them compete the first time that you can get lost in the heat of the moment. Yell at a coach or a referee. Snipe at your kid for having a bad game. Well, as both a father and a youth-league coach with 10 years of experience, I have to say: Just be positive, be courteous, and put your child’s development first. Otherwise, you could ruin your kid’s love of sports. {ed note: My friend, and your friend, Julie, would concur.}
10) Remember privacy? Yeah, that was fun.
A toddler will follow you everywhere. If you’re like most men, you’ll grab your sports section and head into the bathroom for some quiet time. Have a kid, and you suddenly have company there. And everywhere. You get used to it, but just to a point. Make sure you have locks on your bathroom and bedroom. Again, should be a no-brainer. But I had to mention it.
11) You’re going to see some horrible, horrible kid's TV shows. Try to make the best of it.
Talk about something you can’t prepare for. Unless you’ve gone through a CIA torture course, I can’t imagine how you can prepare for endless hours of "Teletubbies", "The Doodlebops" and everybody’s home methadone clinic, "Barney and Friends." Jeezy creezy, those are some horrible shows if you’re not a 3-year-old all hopped-up on French toast sticks. What can you do? Not zmuch, but if you really get bored, start to think about the adults in the show leaving the set, doing a line of cocaine and going to clubs where they slug anyone who calls them by their showbiz name. Maybe it’s just me, but that really helped.
12) If your son is born at 10 lbs., 14 oz. without the benefit of a C-section, try to make your first words about your little boy something more prosaic than, “Whoa, he’s huge!”
It’s perfectly acceptable, however, to pull the doctor aside afterwards and ask in heated terms why they didn’t know the kid was that big (we were told “high 8s, low 9s” for a ballpark estimate). Bear in mind, my son was born in 2002, not the Middle Ages. Thanks, Humana, for not covering that late-stage ultrasound.
13) All too often, being a father is really great* ... but it’s also not about you.
Here are two good perspectives on fatherhood, by two different comedians. First, Chris Rock had a great bit about how your daddy would work hard, take care of the house, take care of the kids, and what did he get? The big piece of chicken. That’s all. And, Bill Cosby had a great routine about a dad who trained his kid to play football, worked with him every day, showed up at every practice and every game to support the kid, watched him get a scholarship to college and then see him on TV after scoring the big touchdown. What does the kid say into the camera? “Hi, mom!”
As a dad, you’re almost always going to be second-fiddle to mom, but since she squeezed out the kid (I mean, how weird was that? {ed note: I'm not going to lie to you. It was weird.}), that’s no biggie.
So dads, in advance of Fathers Day, here’s to all of you. Hope you can spend some quality time with your family and maybe eke out a few moments for yourself.
* I just have to say, this is one of the best lines ever. -- Beth
FatherBunker Guest Writer
When Beth asked me to write “13 things that every father should know,” I started to wonder, “Why me?” Yes, I have a 6-year-old son, but there are fathers who have many more kids ... dads that stay at home with their kids ... fathers who have sacrificed more for their kids. Then, I realized that Beth knew that I could write on deadline. Without complaint. For no money whatsoever. {ed note: That's just how I roll. And also, Mr. MotherBunker declined.} If that makes me “father of the year,” then so be it.
In reality, it’s been rather amazing to think about how my entire perspective on life has changed. I’ve learned an incredible amount in the last 6-7 years, and even though every kid is different, I came up with my list of things that every dad should know (or already knows).
1) It’s the toughest job you’ll ever love ...
Yeah, I know, this is an obvious one, but it’s a good starting point. Being a dad is the first 24/7 responsibility any of us have ever had. OK, marriage might qualify, but you’re not so much “responsible” as you are “accountable” in that situation. I mean, your wife won’t expire if left to her own devices (unless you married Paris Hilton). Well, maybe if you were a sergeant with a platoon full of green soldiers operating in a war zone, that might qualify. But for most of us, it’s unlike anything we’ve ever experienced because of the time, effort and care that you put into this gig. And it’s a blast.
2) ... but it’s really not that tough (as much as we’d like to think otherwise).
The only piece of advice I typically give expectant dads is this: Becoming a father is like going to college. When you’re getting ready to go off to school, everybody tells you the horror stories. “You’ll have to study three hours for every one you spend in class.” Or, “The professors don’t care if you live or die.” You get there, though, and the actual experience isn’t nearly as bad as all of this. See, people hold onto the most
3) In the delivery room, if the nurse says, “Hey Dad, look here,” DO NOT LOOK unless you are fully prepared for what you might see.
Just trust me on this one. I didn’t pass out, but boy, I sure turned a deeper shade of pale.
4) Realize that you’re always living by example.
Another no-brainer, you’d say, but I see a lot of parents who admonish their kids to say “please” and “thank you” but never do that themselves. {ed note: There is no need to call me out on my own blog, Daniel.} Kids mimic everything you do. It’s how they learn. If you act politely and use good manners, your kids will pick up on that. Now, of course, you’ll have to reinforce that behavior from time to time, but you can’t do one thing and say another. Kids are great hypocrite detectors. {ed note: Does that mean I have to start sharing my Cabernet? Because I’m pretty sure that stuff will stain her princess cup.}
5) There is no way to totally get prepared for fatherhood, but you can draw on a few life experiences.
In college, I had a job in a newspaper mailroom where I would sometimes get home at 3 or 4 a.m. After catching 2-3 hours of sleep, I’d be up and ready for an 8 a.m. class. I was just doing it as a way to make some dough, but it also helped me prepare for nights of fitful, oft-interrupted sleep that you experience with a newborn (and beyond). If you’ve raised a puppy or helped take care of younger kids, you at least have some inkling of the ordeal to come.
6) Kids are a blank slate, so use it wisely.
I’m a UNC grad, so I’ve spent hours building a healthy hatred of all things Duke. {ed note: Um, I think you mean “Dook,” but it’s OK; my spellchecker caught it.} Sure, it’s petty and stems from a bunch of drunken evenings in college. But, it’s something my son and I share, and it’s a great way to relate. Until he decides that he wants to be a Blue Devil some day. Ugh ... let’s move on.
7) Be prepared to give up some things ...
I used to play tennis several times a week. Probably played golf about 10 times a year. Now, my tennis racket is collecting dust and my golf clubs are rusting in the garage. It’s hard to justify that much time out of the house when I want to be a family guy when I have free time.
8) ... but be ready to get your kids involved in your activities.
Instead of doing things in absence of my son, he goes with me to my own thirtysomething athletic endeavors like volleyball and basketball games. He is learning about the sports that I’m playing, and it won’t be too long before he’ll be ready to take part.
9) When it’s time for him or her to pick up sports, be prepared to get involved but don’t be TOO involved.
This is a hot-button issue for me, but it’s something almost every dad will face. How to support – and how much to get involved – with your kids sports. Problems don’t emerge when you working with them one-on-one. It’s when you’re seeing them compete the first time that you can get lost in the heat of the moment. Yell at a coach or a referee. Snipe at your kid for having a bad game. Well, as both a father and a youth-league coach with 10 years of experience, I have to say: Just be positive, be courteous, and put your child’s development first. Otherwise, you could ruin your kid’s love of sports. {ed note: My friend, and your friend, Julie, would concur.}
10) Remember privacy? Yeah, that was fun.
A toddler will follow you everywhere. If you’re like most men, you’ll grab your sports section and head into the bathroom for some quiet time. Have a kid, and you suddenly have company there. And everywhere. You get used to it, but just to a point. Make sure you have locks on your bathroom and bedroom. Again, should be a no-brainer. But I had to mention it.
11) You’re going to see some horrible, horrible kid's TV shows. Try to make the best of it.
Talk about something you can’t prepare for. Unless you’ve gone through a CIA torture course, I can’t imagine how you can prepare for endless hours of "Teletubbies", "The Doodlebops" and everybody’s home methadone clinic, "Barney and Friends." Jeezy creezy, those are some horrible shows if you’re not a 3-year-old all hopped-up on French toast sticks. What can you do? Not zmuch, but if you really get bored, start to think about the adults in the show leaving the set, doing a line of cocaine and going to clubs where they slug anyone who calls them by their showbiz name. Maybe it’s just me, but that really helped.
12) If your son is born at 10 lbs., 14 oz. without the benefit of a C-section, try to make your first words about your little boy something more prosaic than, “Whoa, he’s huge!”
It’s perfectly acceptable, however, to pull the doctor aside afterwards and ask in heated terms why they didn’t know the kid was that big (we were told “high 8s, low 9s” for a ballpark estimate). Bear in mind, my son was born in 2002, not the Middle Ages. Thanks, Humana, for not covering that late-stage ultrasound.
13) All too often, being a father is really great* ... but it’s also not about you.
Here are two good perspectives on fatherhood, by two different comedians. First, Chris Rock had a great bit about how your daddy would work hard, take care of the house, take care of the kids, and what did he get? The big piece of chicken. That’s all. And, Bill Cosby had a great routine about a dad who trained his kid to play football, worked with him every day, showed up at every practice and every game to support the kid, watched him get a scholarship to college and then see him on TV after scoring the big touchdown. What does the kid say into the camera? “Hi, mom!”
As a dad, you’re almost always going to be second-fiddle to mom, but since she squeezed out the kid (I mean, how weird was that? {ed note: I'm not going to lie to you. It was weird.}), that’s no biggie.
So dads, in advance of Fathers Day, here’s to all of you. Hope you can spend some quality time with your family and maybe eke out a few moments for yourself.
* I just have to say, this is one of the best lines ever. -- Beth
Jaci
June 12, 2008 9:37 AM
Thanks, Beth! I like your idea of having a week's worth of Fatherhood blogs.
Di
June 12, 2008 10:05 PM