An Errant Father Confesses Again!

The nature of impending fatherhood is that you are doing something that you’re unqualified to do, and then you become qualified while doing it. — John Green

A couple of weeks ago, I was up in the attic working on some design for a new property in London. It was a relatively pleasant morning; when you understand the weather in the UK, you will take any day where you spot the sun as pleasant. I could hear my wife coming up the stairs. I was deep in some design work and didn’t enjoy distractions while in the zone, what could she possibly want? She was smiling, “Yes I agree, take what you need but leave me my soul”, I lamented before she could say anything.

She slipped a cold item into my hand; it was an oval-shaped device with a dash in the middle. “What does it mean?” I asked her staring at it, “What do you mean what does it mean?” she replied. I looked harder unsure what this device was trying to tell me. I had encountered this cipher some time ago. My brain went blank. Could it be? What? How? When? That one time?

I’m a father to an eighteen-month-old, so I’m no stranger to a positive pregnancy test kit — well I am because I kept doubting the accuracy of the first one until my child was physically born, only then did I concede. “You sure it is mine?”, the same questions I remembered asking when I found out Zach was an embryo. “Jo, come on!” she said smiling, accustomed to my madness by now. “Damn it! It looks like that Zach needs to get a job now”, I muttered quietly enough to avoid a beating from her.

Having another child made me question myself; if I was raising the first one right and if I was the cause of his madness (errant behavior). When you meet Zach, you will know what I mean. He is crackers. He laughs at his own jokes, yells sporadically and thinks everything is a phone. His hair curls up as he gets crazier during in the day. He is his own wind-up. His first word was “car” (in a posh Surrey accent that neither his mother nor I have) and he eats by face planting into a bowl of food and rubbing the contents into his hair. Genetics or observed behavior will only be unraveled in time I guess.

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So after going through the four stages of grief, I accepted that another child was on the way, and I thought why not air my thoughts in a journal as a caution to other men that might be thinking of becoming a dad or if you, like me, accidentally slipped and fell and now have a baby on your hands. Literally, the story I will tell Zach when he eventually asks me where babies come from. I know. Sad times.

Fatherhood is a wonderful experience if you accept that nothing will prepare you for what lies ahead.

Not by reading a hundred books, or reliving your own experiences with your father. Unfortunately, there are no manuals or guides on being a dad and much has changed since the days when you could follow your dad’s example. Though I must say, there are books that do help relieve the anxiety of your partner and the stress of childbirth so please read those. But once he/she pops out, good luck, you are on your own!

I look at Zach and think how am I going to love something else as much as him? He has been such a joy to be around, and I strive towards a work-life balance to be at home as much as possible to watch him grow. It almost feels like every time I am out working he decides to learn to walk, or say new words or complete his mum’s crossword book (I swear it’s not me!).

The best lessons on being a dad are the ones you learn by being a dad.

Zach, like all other children his age, finds the joy (and sometimes an unreal amount of frustration) in the present moment and does not worry about making mistakes. Are they really mistakes, if he enjoys making them? I mean isn’t rubbing a banana smoothie into his hair similar to that plant shampoo that his Mum just bought? Cheaper at the very least and vegan as well! Don’t even get me started!

I’m almost jealous of those traits as we have learned fear and anxiety from others around us. We need to encourage silly behavior and celebrate them when we can. We should say well done on your finger skills when she picks only the raisins out of her porridge or thanks for expressing yourself when he throws himself on the floor in a tantrum.

I’m sure most other parents will have more sensible words of wisdom for such behaviors, but you catch my drift. Let’s celebrate our children, because if you don’t show them that you love them now, how are they going to learn to love themselves?

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Previously published on Medium.com.

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