Dads Behaving Dadly: Distractions

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Distractions

Mike Andrews Jr, Somerset, NJ

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Summer was over, and it was my first week alone with my then two-year-old son, Ben, while my other three kids were in school. I had grown accustomed to the older kids keeping me busy playing, cooking and cleaning. I had also grown accustomed to them helping keep an eye on Ben. My complacency would turn into tragedy.

By the second day home alone with just the one toddler, I ran out of ideas to entertain ourselves, so we watched TV. He was enjoying the show, so I thought I could get on my computer for a little bit. It was in the same room as the TV, so I figured I could keep an eye on him while I scrolled through my newsfeed on Facebook.

I don’t know how long I messed around on Facebook, but I heard the laundry stop, so I went into the laundry room to fold the clothes. About five minutes later, I went back into the living room and sat right back down at the computer. I did not even check on my two-year-old, I just went back to typing a comment, assuming he was still watching TV. My friends were discussing Fight Club; obviously, I had to join in on the conversation.

A moment later, I heard a blood-chilling scream from upstairs. I jumped from my seat and turned to see my son, crying at the top of the stairs of our split-level home; blood steadily dripping from his hand as he stumbled his way down to me. I ran up and grabbed him, noticing he had a deep cut between his thumb and index finger. I could see his white bone inside the cut as blood shot out, as if from a small squirt gun. I thought back to all those cop/war/medical dramas I have watched, and I put pressure on it, praying it was what I was supposed to do.

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I started running through the house looking for something to wrap his hand in when I saw an apple sitting in the living room with the sharpest knife we own stuck through it. I immediately realized what had happened. We had just finished lunch before sitting down to watch TV, and after I cleaned up, I had left the knife I had used sitting on the counter instead of putting it away in the drawer.

After running around for a minute as the blood was dripping and spraying everywhere, I got my head together and found a new roll of paper towels and an Ace bandage. I wrapped his hand in it to stop the blood from dripping everywhere.

He was still crying, harder than he ever had; the kind of crying where he stopped breathing for a few seconds in between waves of wailing. As I tried to soothe him and figure out what to do next, I could not stop thinking about all those parents I heard about as a kid who walked away from their babies for two minutes and next they knew, the kid was in a well or kidnapped or attacked or any other tragedy that can take your child from you forever.

I rushed him to the van and strapped him into the car seat. As I sped down the street toward the hospital, he went quiet. I feared the worst. I glanced back and realized he was only asleep, the trauma apparently tiring him out. For the rest of the drive, I had one hand on the wheel and one on his chest, making sure he was still breathing.

I could not stop thinking about what could have happened. I kept imaging the worst scenario. He could have died while I was not looking and I was too “busy” to check on him. I was too lost in my own world to even notice my child was about to stab himself with a knife. I felt numb.

Fortunately, he missed all the important stuff and just needed stitches. My son was okay, but I was not. I kept thinking I was a bad father and that maybe I was not cut out to be a dad.

I wondered what would have happened if he had died. I saw the cops arresting me, thinking I had stabbed him, my wife going emotionally and financially bankrupt, my kids growing up believing their dad had killed their little brother, fear, and mistrust following them for the rest of their lives. I saw my whole family’s future destroyed all because I had to make one more comment to let all my friends know how much I liked the movie Fight Club.

When I had calmed down somewhat and thought through the incident more clearly, I realized being a good father did not mean just being in the same room with my toddler. It meant interacting with him no matter how bored I became. It meant keeping him close, even when I had to leave the room. It meant always knowing the dangers around him. It meant showing him how much I loved him at all times, even when he did something he should not be doing.

It meant being a dad even at those times I would rather be distracted.

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Mike Andrews Jr. has been an at-home dad to his four kids since March 2012. He enjoys sharing his love for Star Wars and other geeky things with his kids. He blogs about being a dad on his blog www.geekdaddio.com and on the National At-Home Dad Network Blog.

Hogan Hilling is a nationally recognized and OPRAH approved author of 12 published books. Hilling has appeared on Oprah. He is the creator of the DADLY book series and the “#WeLoveDads” and “#WeLoveMoms” Campaigns, which he will launch in early 2018. He is also the owner of Dad Marketing, a first of its kind consultation firm on how to market to dads. He is also the founder of United We Parent. Hilling is also the author of the DADLY book series and first of its kind books. The first book is about marketing to dads “DADLY Dollar$” and two coffee table books that feature dads and moms. “DADLY Dads: Parents of the 21st Century” and “Amazing Moms: Parents of the 21st Century.” Hilling is the father of three children and lives in southern California.

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