The plain truth is that real families are quirky, suprising and sometimes painful. By "real" families, I am not including media families, from "Leave It To Beaver" to "Arrested Development" - they aren't real. I was hoping my friends' kids and wives would take care of this, but obviously I am stuck with being the bad cop. They had to know sometime.
These families are fake. Pretenders. Poseurs. No, I'm not joking. The "families" are actors with scripts. They get paid to pretend and go home after the filming is done. Plus, real families don't use blanks.
I am also declaring that real families are sometimes the loneliest places to live. I witnessed this first hand in the home repair industry. I would arrive at the bustling home of the Smiths. I am greeted by Mom, Dad, crazy uncle Louie, five kids, two dogs and a schizophrenic hamster. Before two hours are up, four of them, including the hamster, have told me very personal details with the caveat "don't tell Dad/Mom/Louie/dog". They don't know even know me! How can you trust a stranger with a tool belt more than a family member that shares the bathroom with you?
Final Declaration: there is no harder job than being a dad. You know. Fatherhood. The Dad-meister. The Dad-a-rino. The Dad-a-rama. The Man. The Old Guy. Am I biased because I am a dad? Rat baskets, yes! Is motherhood hard and thankless and having to pass a 10 pound, squirming mass of new life, etc., etc. Yes. But I am not a mom. And I happen to be at the keyboard right now.
Here's why this job is not widely advertised, nor frequently recommended. Regardless of how 'progressive' you are, there are massive expectations of dads. And dads must deliver. When psychologists, sociologists, counselors talk about the impact of father-failure, the terms they use describing the damage are not passive or clinical. There are mounds of books by guys with really thick glasses and bad ties that go into excruciating detail on the importance of dads.
I'm not going to do that. 25 years of the Dad Wars have humbled me and put me in my place. I will not preach to you about the "HOW".
I want to suprise, you fire you up, remind you to breathe and laugh with the big "WHY". Why? Because dads make memories by just being themselves: grumpy, fickle, crazy, boring, combative, creative, to name a few. If you've got the job of dad, you are blessed, favored and to be certain, a history maker. History is made when you fall off the roof, run in a thunderstorm, read "The Hobbit" with a weird voice, break anything, and make your wife spurt milk out her nose.
Why don't I offer the "HOW"? Because "dadoracity" comes out of who you are. And to be honest, you are shooting at a moving target. Some days, it's shooting at you. You have to be the man, not act like the man, not make sounds like the man or smell like the man. You have to be king, whether you sit in the big recliner facing the TV or you're kneeling next to your kid's bed, praying with him at night. Whether your wife gives you the first steak off the grill or telling your teenager you love her even though she messed up. Whether you choose the restaurant or make the bed because it makes your wife happy. When you're king, wherever you park your butt is a throne.
Being dad is being Somebody. Somebody unbelievably important. CEOs get noticed. Athletes have celebrity. Politicians get their vote. But at the end of the day, the only thing that will last, that will matter, is how he served the people who live with him. They know him without his suit, car, props or his titles. They will not tolerate a fraud.
The wide-eyed daughter, who jumps on her pop's lap, crumples down the newspaper, grabs his face to make sure she has his eyes, and asks "Do you think I'm pretty?" will cast the biggest vote. Because of who he is, he will build who she will become. The legacy he creates in that very moment, that instant, outweighs all the money, all the reputation, all the acclaim he might get elsewhere. His wife, kids and others he serves, will tell the truth about him. They cannot, will not, lie.
Men, if you want to be a revolutionary, a change-maker, a crazy, box-stomper, then be Somebody. A dad.
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ReplyDeleteGreat job, Father James.
ReplyDeleteI would like to mention that there are some "how" answers that can help.You just have to do a little searching. In fact, the very act of doing that searching can communicate to your kids just how seriously you take them, and your job as their Dad.
I liked "Growing Kids God's Way" for some of those helps, although I thought they took a one-size-fits-all approach and none of my kids exactly fit the mold. But some of the cool communication tricks worked very well.
Things like, "when your kid comes to tell you something (anything) you must respond with matching enthusiasm. I would add: "even if you are tired, sore, late, asleep, in pain or dead."
It's one of a thousand non-verbal ways we communicate to our kids that they are in fact a significant person, a valuable use of the grocery money each month, and that what they think matters.
As a result, they just might get the idea that they matter, what they say matters, and as a result, what comes out of their mouths and their lives better have some thought put into it.
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The "or you're kneeling next to your kid's bed, praying with him at night" part meant a lot to me. Kind of miss it to be honest. It'll be quite the experience when I get to do that for my kids.
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