Tom Matlack shares five tips for full-contact fatherhood.
I still remember the first time I fed my son Seamus a bottle. He was 6 months old. I lived alone in a bachelor pad on the corner of Massachusetts and Commonwealth avenues in Boston. It was a moment that saved me. The smell of him. The feeling of his little body going limp with sleep. The sound of him suckling in my darkened bedroom.
I held him long after he went to sleep. Finally, I placed him gently into the pack ’n’ play crib I had set up nearby. Still I watched him sleeping, not wanting the moment to pass. Seamus is as big as I am now; a strapping teenager. He has an older sister who just went to her prom. I got remarried after six years as a divorced dad and had another boy, Cole, who is now 6. So I still get to read bedtime stories and lay in his cowboy bunk bed well after he is asleep, just feeling him close and allowing the sensation of fatherhood to sweep over me like a cool breeze in a hot desert.
♦◊♦
Maybe it is my difficulty with words, or my tendency to spin off into a male Eeyore grouchiness, or my struggle 
throughout my life to feel like I belong—but to me, the touchstone of faith, unplugging, and serenity has always been physical contact with my kids, when they were small and even now when I, bad back and all, play an all-out game of one-on-one basketball with Seamus.
I know that I am not alone in this feeling of connection. Moms obviously have deep instinctual drives that take over the moment their babies are born. But the reaction of men’s bodies to physical contact is no less powerful. I have experienced similar relaxation by getting down on the ground and rubbing my yellow lab puppy Penny’s belly. So, if you are a mom, dad, dog owner, or just an aunt or uncle, listen up. Here are some easy ways to forget your troubles and bliss out.
About Tom Matlack
Tom, you have a new reader–I love this post. My girls are now budding teenagers. I remember fondly how I would hold them as babies. To be honest, to this day I love nothing more than snuggling up with them on the couch, or just hugging them and hearing about their day after we all get home.
Emotionally compelling and informationally rich post. My 7 yr old daughter is the only oen, whose diapers I changed and connected with an an infant. Her mom, now my ex wife, was sick with esclampsia so I was the first person to feed her, change her, get her to sleep, bath her, etc. Those fist 3 months of bonding made my daughter and I connected for life. I woild add 4 more things.
1) sing to your child. My daughter still asks about those Beatles songs she heard as an infant. Whenever Abbey Road gets played in the car her face lights up and she makes me Octopus’ Garden and Baby Im amzed at my out of tuned loudest.
2) let them watch you work, make breakfast, and be daddy. Between six months old and two years they soak in every move you make.
3) Have them watch a ballgame with you in your lap or by your side. They will react with your emotional responses to the game and remember it for a long time.
4) take them outside, dig up something, make a gardeb, get really dirty with them. They will apreciate the outdoors adventure and live getting fithy with daddy. My girls still talk about the times we did this. Taking them fishing is right along with this.
thanks.
Lance
“Difficulty with words,” Tom. Really? I’ve been reading you for months; your feelings flow beautifully out of everything you’ve written, and they particularly resonated as I read this piece.
When I was a new father, one of my colleagues—Australian born—advised me, “Don’t let them get you changing those nappies!” I was kinda stunned, for by that time I’d probably already changed my baby daughter’s Pampers 400 times. And I knew that the experience was creating a bond between us. Over the weeks and months ahead, I would see, first hand, how she gathered strength and size and pondered what kind of relationship I would have had it I’d taken my colleague’s suggestion. He was perhaps an unwitting spokesperson for age-old and fast-crumbling male role-playing, which I know has gone even further out of favor in the years since my daughter’s infancy. Incidentally, we are still very close, she and I, though obviously not in the same way.
Thanks so much Tom. Simply beautiful. So often I have thought the things that you have put into lovely language here.
Derek, Mervyn, Lance & Todd. Wow thanks to you all. After some more controversial posts it’s nice to get some uniformly positive energy going her on the blog.
Todd welcome aboard. You can follow along at @tmatlack. Would love to hear from you regularly.
Lance awesome list. Yes to all but specially the singing part. I can’t carry a tune to save my life but I always used to sing “Amazing Grace” to my first boy, now 14, when putting him to bed as a baby. It felt very special to me to sing how much I loved him then and still do now.
Mervyn thank goodness you shared that with your daughter. I too was thrown into parenting young kids not necessarily out of choice but it changed everything for me, and my kids.
Derek thanks for your kind note.
Now I got some kids to feed and put to bed!
well I am proud to say that my husband is a true full-contact father, i’m so proud of him!
A great post. Reminds me of a quote I heard not long ago that definitely resonates – “Your kids never tell you it’s going to be the last time they sit on your lap to read a story with you.” Take none of those times (or any of these other great suggestions by Tom) for granted.
I love this post, Tom! A great and powerful reminder of the importance of a physical relationship with our children. My toddler daughter and I played one of our favortie wrestling and ticking games today, “Don’t Tackle Me Dad!”, and we both laughed and smiled throughout.
Tom,
Your story reminds me of the days when my son Connor was also on the bottle. I worked nights at a local hockey rink so I would not be home until late at night. Once I walked into the house it was my shift. I LOVED rocking Connor as he drank his bottle and yes I too would stay in his room after he finished and then would fall asleep. When my ex wife asked for a divorce she said I could have any of the furniture. All I wanted was the chair that I rocked Connor in. Today he is the reason why I live and breathe. Tom you paint a great story that many people do not get to hear and I thank you for sharing yours.
Tom,
Great, great, great post.
I have two more for you:
1. Baby massage. Our first daughter went through a hellish time for about 3 months, where she would cry unceasingly between 1 and 3 every night. (At 21 she has intestinal issues, which we assume must have been related.) We could not settle her. Indeed, it was hard not to get frustrated with her and with the powerlessness of not being able to console her. But I made up for that hell with the heaven of massaging her chub-babiness. On a blanket or towel, in a sunny patch of in the winter. She loved it. And loves that touch to this day. I loved the connection.
2. I braided my girls hair and always found it relaxing and connecting. I was an object of some “matronizing” comments (or deserved criticism for my lack of braiding skill), but I didn’t care. My girls are 21 and 19, and occasionally I still get to brush out their hair. A treat.
What a great job you are doing opening us up to some truly “good” places in our selves.
Dan
Great stuff Dan.
You would enjoy this video which was a big hit here on the site by my buddy
Todd M:
http://goodmenproject.com/families/i-blow-dry-my-sons-hair/
One more thing: there’s a great book called The Fatherstyle Advantage by Kevin O’Shea. It provides great insight into the wonderful gift of dads’ physicality!
Thanks Dan for sharing this reference. I have stumbled onto your twitter feed this morning and am happy I did. So glad to see this great community of dads connecting with each other. Makes me feel like a “superdad”, less isolated. Thanks all.
Great article. I have been and continue to be a full contact father to my now 16 year old son. We still hold hands on a regular basis. I am so glad to hear that there are others out there who are the same. Thanks for sharing.
Jack
Great stuff, Tom. One bit of advice I’d like to add is really simple: offer physical contact. Be available for touch. Get down at children’s hight. Sit close. Allow kids to climb on your lap during dinner or over coffee. Sit next to them in the sofa. Allow them into the bed in the morning. And more that anything – be comfortable with touching them and them touching you. Let them know you like it, that it’s OK to seek your touch if they like.
My daughter is nine. She still hug and snuggle and so on a lot. Sometimes if a need downtime after work or dinner or whatever, I will lie down on the sofa or the floor, and she will turn up with a book, and just snuggle up against and read. Nothing said, nothing need to be said – just the contact and the being there, close. Love that.
This is complete faggotry. It’s great that you want to whip out wallet pics of your kid. But this entire article could be covered in one sentence: Love your child. And if you need instructions on how to do that, odds are, you’re going to do a poor job regardless.
Sometimes I worry I kiss my daughter too much. She’s 18 months old and it’s been like this since the day she was born. It’s like her cheeks call out to me and I know the time she’ll actually let me do it is fleeting. I used to nap with her on my chest every single afternoon when she was a few months old and only wish we still could. Now that she’s busy and moving around, I cherish the times she’ll actually sit still long enough to be read to or have quick cuddle. In fact, I selfishly put in a DVD nearly every day so she’ll sit quietly with me. I just love that quiet closeness.