Thursday Tidbits

Posted on November 11, 2021 under Thursday Tidbits with 2 comments

The joys of fatherhood

 

A few days ago, my friend, and occasional co-author, Shelly Carroll, posted a story on her Facebook page. It was called “Mom Guilt”. (https://vocal.media/families/mom-guilt-y12g030vpl?fbclid=IwAR0n1fHiHLP_CqlsUzzqp3gfntUPny-5zCWATCLssVjLJfqhIRGuZVBGr3I) Please take a few minutes to read her thoughtful piece. I figured it only appropriate to write a companion piece called “Dad Guilt”. Of course, I could come up with a much more imaginative title like “Dopey Dads” but to achieve synchronicity, I’ll stick with Shelley’s appellation.

Dad Guilt.

I know a thing or two about guilt.

I was born Catholic. Enough said.

I am hoping not to be pilloried by those who are less guilt ridden than me.

What is an appropriate job description for a father? Especially a first- time dad? Here is what I learned from experience, not in a “how to” manual: “Sit back, shut your mouth, and do what you’re told.” That might sound a bit cynical and harsh but there is a great deal of truth in this statement. You see, mothers are the boss. They bore your children and have maternal instincts. The male species is not so blessed. Men have instincts to hunt, fish, go to sporting events, drink beer, and fart in public.

I know I have told this story too many times, but it bears telling again. With the impending birth of our fourth child, I knew what to expect. I was hardly blasé about it, but I wasn’t filled with terror the way I was on the way to the hospital when our son was born.

We were greeted on the maternity ward by the irrepressible, unflappable wonder nurse, Jenny MacNeil. I am quite certain that Jenny brought more children into the world than the obstetricians. Once she got my wife settled in at the labour room, I knew the waiting game was on. I was also aware that there was another game on… an NFL football game to be more precise. Now, Jenny and I were good buddies. Over the years, I had the pleasure of going to her home on more than one occasion. Her husband, Nick and I were golfing buddies at one time.

It wasn’t particularly busy on the maternity ward this particular Sunday. When Jenny suggested that I wasn’t needed in the room for a while, I wandered out into the hallway. I noticed several rooms were empty and one had a television set. I sheepishly asked Jenny if I might watch a bit of the game. She propped up a few pillows and allowed me to lie in a labour bed. “I’ll come and get you when the baby is arriving,” said Jenny. I often wondered if these events were a precursor of things to come as our fourth child, Margaret, was a very good soccer player!

I have often thought about writing a book for expectant fathers. “Fatherhood For Dummies” comes to mind. Watching your wife giving birth is one of the scariest and most humbling experience a man can have. It’s one of those things that can’t really be described.

I’m not sure if any male was born to be a dad. It is a very delicate balancing act. You are expected to step up and do your share but don’t ever think for a moment that your opinions on weighty matters, like breast feeding or the pros and cons of cloth diapers, will ever be seriously considered. Take out the garbage (without being asked). Do the dishes. Never put your wife’s bras in the dryer. And the most important thing of all? Make damn sure that you put the toilet seat down after taking a pee. And for gods, sake, watch where you aim.

See. Being dad is pretty simple if you observe these cautionary anecdotes.

Remember this too. You are a parent for life. When your progeny leaves the nest, this does not mean your duties as a parent have ended. They may have flown the coop, but they know where to find you!

Whether you’re an amazing mom or a flatulent father, keep this in mind.

We did our best.

I still feel a bit guilty (after 33 years) about watching football while my wife endured labour!

Have a great weekend.

P.S. When is “up” down and “down” up? This is a real headscratcher. Back in the dark ages, If I said I was climbing up a hill, most people would accept that without another thought. Conversely, when I reached the summit of the hill and decided to descend it, I would say that I was going down the hill. Stay with me you old timers. Several weeks ago, I asked a young, female colleague if she would like to go for a walk. “I’m down with that” was her reply. I asked her to clarify, and she assured me that she was “up” for this. How can you be up and down at the same time? This all leaves me feeling upside down.

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“AT THE GOING DOWN OF THE SUN AND IN THE MORNING,

WE WILL REMEMBER THEM” 11/11/11