In celebration of Father’s Day, Alex Barnett reflects on the complexities of fatherhood and the rewards of being a dad.
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As Father’s Day approaches, I’m thinking about my dual roles on that day. I’m both a son and a father. I’ve been a son a lot longer. I’ve had a lot more practice at it. And, frankly, it’s an easier job, especially now that I’m 47 years old. At this point, being a son is just about the easiest job in the world, which may account for why it pays so little.
But, being a dad? Now that’s a toughie. That’s a 24/7/365 affair. Maybe it eases off a bit as everyone ages. I’m not sure my dad is really burning the candle at both ends these days in his fatherhood chores. I’m not saying he doesn’t love me and doesn’t worry about me a lot. I’m just saying that if he forgot to make me dinner tonight, I’d be okay. He’s not putting me in my pajamas or tucking me in and he’s certainly not coming with me to the bathroom to make sure I don’t have an accident.
On the other hand, I’m right in the eye of the storm when it comes to fatherhood. Our son is almost four, which means he relies on my wife and me for food, clothing and shelter. At the same time, he has a wide-ranging vocabulary, a strong desire for independence, and fresh legs. Meld all those factors together, and you get a result that says that toddler parenting, or, in my case, toddler fathering, is one demanding job.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. Far from it. Being a dad is the best job I’ve ever had and will ever have. It doesn’t pay any better than being a son. In fact, it’s actually a money-losing proposition. However, there are other dividends and forms of compensation, not least of which is that I can blame my increasing tally of grey hairs on our toddler son and not just on the fact that I’m getting older.
The truth is, being a dad is an awesome job. And, I mean “awesome” in all its meanings. It’s not just a fantastic job, it also inspires awe and reverence and a sense at times of being overwhelmed with the sheer magnitude of what is demanded by the position.
The funny thing is, sometimes, as “awesome” as the task is, it winds up being so simple. More often than not, being a dad boils down to very simple concepts and duties: be present; provide love and security; lead by example; and teach honesty, respect, and how to make fart noises.
Other times, being a dad seems like it’s more complicated than being a brain surgeon. Certainly, the stakes seem just as high. A brain surgeon makes a mistake, and it can have far-ranging and lasting negative impact on the patient. A dad doesn’t do his job, and the results can be just as tragic. The problem is, brain surgeons get to go to medical school. There’s no graduate school for dads. There’s no board certification or continuing fatherhood education. You have a child, and you draw upon your own experiences and do the best you can. True, you can’t be sued for malpractice if things go awry. But, really, you can be, in the sense that if you screw up and screw up your kid, the damages you pay are being forced to know for the rest of your life that you did that.
But let’s not be too melodramatic. Brain surgery is brain surgery. Being a dad is . . . well, it’s teaching kids how to play sports, and stand up for themselves (and others), and how to get out of chores in really creative ways, and how to nap with the television on, and how to wrestle and play ball in the house while limiting the wreckage to a level that mom will be annoyed about but can live with.
The point is, being a dad is a complex job. But, one that is richly rewarding, so much so that the best part of Father’s Day is not the getting of gifts, it’s the chance to spend the time with the people who give you the opportunity every single minute of every single day to be a dad.
Photo: DHarrels/Flickr