I realize that as a stay-at-home dad, I am in a somewhat small demographic. But I don't think that being the at-home parent in our family makes me a better dad than anyone else. I may have a better idea of what my children's daily schedules/routines are than some other fathers, but that doesn't give me an automatic boost ahead of my fellow pops.
In fact, most other fathers I know are fairly well involved in their children's lives from early on. They aren't just the guy who waits around for when the kids are old enough to play catch in the backyard; they change diapers, go to doctor's appointments, and know how to kiss and bandage boo-boos. Yet in the minds of some people, the image of the bumbling dad who puts the diaper on backwards, feeds the kids chocolate cake for breakfast, and can't even boil water to make the macaroni if Mom is working late. Even if I wasn't the at-home parent in our family, I would have stepped up and did my part with each of our babies, just as many of peers have done.
But I frequently encounter those who seem to think that a man can't take care of his children when left to his own devices. For instance, say I'm out grocery shopping with all three offspring and the baby starts crying, almost immediately, someone will come up to me and start offering advice.
"Oh, he probably just needs a bottle and a nap. You need to get that baby home and put him to bed."
Really? That's why babies cry? Because they're hungry and/or tired? I never knew that! Thank you so much for the wonderful tip!
I never actually say any of that, but I am often tempted. I hold my tongue. Partly because it's not worth the trouble, and I know that they mean well for the most part. In actuality, I try to plan such errands to take place after a recent nap and feeding, but sometimes babies cry anyway. People with older children often forget that. He probably just wanted attention since the shopping trip was taking a bit too long because I had to keep stopping for nosy busybodies to stick their faces in my parenting.
It's even worse if the baby is drooling a little, as babies sometimes do. Then I also get advice on teething. Or worse, the random stranger may try to stick their fingers in the baby's mouth to actually check for teeth. Seriously, it happens. At the very least, you get all sorts of people trying to pat, rub, or tickle an upset child. Does this happen to mothers when they are out and about with their young children? I know that Frema has taken the children out, and if this sort of thing is happening to her she's keeping it to herself. (But I know my wife, and if it did happen I would have heard about it and there would most likely have been an entry or two about it on her own blog.)
Maybe I am being overly sensitive about the whole matter, but I feel offended and not just on my own behalf. Modern dads everywhere are looked at too much like clumsy and forgetful buffoons who don't know a pacifier from a hole in the ground. In movies and television, the father is still often portrayed as a pack mules who carries all the baby gear but rarely carries the baby. Or he is a distant, faceless figure who smokes a pipes and reads the newspaper in a beat-up armchair while the mother does all she can to keep the kids occupied while simultaneously cooking dinner and ironing his shirts.
Now I am not saying that modern mothers are slacking off in any way. Almost every mother I've ever met deserves a medal for all they do for their family. I am just saying that many of today's fathers are more than the image of the household jester who is good for a laugh but is undependable when it comes to child care. They are not going to mix up the diaper cream with the training toothpaste or feed an infant leftover pepperoni pizza because they can't find the baby food in the pantry.
Most of the other dads I know are present and active parts of their children's lives and have been from the beginning. Maybe the image of father-as-buffoon been ingrained so well because many fathers did leave too much up to their better halves for so long and maybe some still do just that. Sure mothers and fathers are going to do things differently whether at home or out in the world. But I don't think I'm being naive to think that many of my peers are doing their part as parents. It's time to ease up on that old stereotype and cut dads some slack.
Or at the very least, keep your dirty, old fingers away from my baby's mouth. I know if he's teething or not. And if he was, I also know what aisle the Orajel is down.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Best-Laid Plans
The weekend is not going as planned so far. Frema and I had made plans months ago to take a sans-children weekend trip in celebration our anniversary. But one of the kids became rather ill on Thursday, so we canceled our little holiday and called my parents, who were graciously going to watch all three while went gallivanting about in the Madison area. Fortunately, our son is on the mend and is leaps and bounds better. But we didn't feel right about even considering trying to keep our plans in case he took a turn for the worse.
While we were looking forward to getting away for a spell with just the two of us, in some ways it's nice to be home anyway. Frema can wake up in our own house for Mother's Day, which she felt a little odd after realizing the trip and the holiday were going to coincide a bit. Also, we spend considerably less money than we would have otherwise.
But six years ago our plans didn't go off as predicted either. Our warm, sunny, mid-May, outdoor wedding turned out to be cold and rainy. It may have just been that it was our wedding day and would've been filled with good memories just the same, but the foul-ish weather somehow made it more special, adding its own special charm to the occasion. Not everybody's wedding album is filled with people holding umbrellas, many of them bright blue ones thoughtfully brought by the photographer to match the bridesmaids' dresses.
And though this weekend is not going as we originally intended, if we had left early this morning to get on the road like we talked about, I would have missed the moment where our youngest son looked right at me, smiled, and said, "Da-da" for the very first time.
We can make reschedule plans for a celebratory weekend trip, and of course we'll still have an anniversary, as were married six years ago today no matter what. It will just be a quieter observance of the date with dinner at home with the kids. But if we hadn't stayed home, I wouldn't have a memory from that little moment with this little guy either.
While we were looking forward to getting away for a spell with just the two of us, in some ways it's nice to be home anyway. Frema can wake up in our own house for Mother's Day, which she felt a little odd after realizing the trip and the holiday were going to coincide a bit. Also, we spend considerably less money than we would have otherwise.
But six years ago our plans didn't go off as predicted either. Our warm, sunny, mid-May, outdoor wedding turned out to be cold and rainy. It may have just been that it was our wedding day and would've been filled with good memories just the same, but the foul-ish weather somehow made it more special, adding its own special charm to the occasion. Not everybody's wedding album is filled with people holding umbrellas, many of them bright blue ones thoughtfully brought by the photographer to match the bridesmaids' dresses.
And though this weekend is not going as we originally intended, if we had left early this morning to get on the road like we talked about, I would have missed the moment where our youngest son looked right at me, smiled, and said, "Da-da" for the very first time.
We can make reschedule plans for a celebratory weekend trip, and of course we'll still have an anniversary, as were married six years ago today no matter what. It will just be a quieter observance of the date with dinner at home with the kids. But if we hadn't stayed home, I wouldn't have a memory from that little moment with this little guy either.
Friday, May 04, 2012
May the Fourth...
Today is Star
Wars Day, and I really do appreciate the joke that plays on the
date. But I have yet to actually say that quote to anyone else—except when detailing such conversations with others—as I have had it aimed
in my direction countless times since I can remember.
Actually, I'd be hard-pressed to note whether I have heard more people telling me that they hope the Force is with me or misquoting Vader's famous line to my namesake at the end of Empire Strikes Back. Honestly, either wouldn't bother me, except that they often initially think they are the first ones clever enough to recite lines from Star Wars movies to me. This is how it often goes down:
The scene typically concludes with the offenders giggling hysterically with me staring blankly at them until they compose themselves again. I am usually good-natured and feign a smile, but I am fairly numb to the experience by this point in my life.
But all in all, I was a huge fan of the movies growing up. My brother and I were avid seekers of all the action figures we could find (which we actually played with and did not store in their original packages). We'd take them out to the sandbox, a perfect stand-in for the vast dunes of Tatooine. Today, I doubt that even the rare ones from our aging stockpile would hold any value to even the most nostalgic of collectors. On the playground, my friends and I played "Star Wars" instead of "Cops and Robbers" or the like. Aside from having movie lines spouted at me regularly, another curse of my name was that I almost always had to be Luke and never got to be Han Solo, who was of course much cooler. Although, a few times I think that was cast as Chewbacca, due to my being quite a bit taller than most of my peers at the time.
Years later, when the new movies finally came out, like many children of the 1970s and early 1980s, I was filled with joyful but nervous anticipation that they would live up to what most of us had built up in our minds. Since Return of the Jedi rounded the theaters in its first run, a great deal of vague rumors went around on the playground, later in junior high hallways, and much later around office coolers all hinting at more chapters in the epic saga being written and produced.
Speculation flourished about possible plots and where in the timeline they would fit. Most turned out to be bunk for quite some time until the late 1990s, when Episode began filming and was finally released on May 19, 1997. Weeks before, I sacrificed one of the precious 10 vacation days I was allotted per year to wait in line with other geeks and nerds for a midnight showing of the Phantom Menace. Unlike many long-time fans, I didn't hate it for Jar Jar's goofy attempts at hooking younger viewers, however, the movie didn't give what I wanted either. I could give a long review on how the film missed the mark, but many others already did that years ago. What it didn't do for me that I really wanted was return the same feeling of wonder and amazement that the first three did. In part, I believe that it was the fault of Mr. Lucas who had subtly hinted at deep backstory in Episodes IV, V, and VI, and the actual story he wrote did not live up to that. But I think for me, the biggest letdown was my own fault—that my somewhat jaded grownup self no longer had the same ability to suspend my disbelief and lose myself in a fantastical realm from long ago and far, far away.
As an adult, I couldn't project myself into the role of Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon Jinn (good thing as he died anyway and was not seen again in the next two movies). Even with the more realistic special effects, the later movies were much less real for me. But I suppose that is part of growing up. Reality becomes more important than fantasy, which is both good and a little sad at the same time. I don't daydream of elaborate space battles or lightsaber duels anymore and have lost much of my innocence since I last did, but I have more realistic dreams of building a good life for my family and how I might do my part to leave the world a better place than I found it. Still, I have high hopes for another grand adventure coming along while my own children are still young that will capture their imaginations in a similar way.
In the meantime, I will continue to try to be a good sport when people wish me well with the Force.
Actually, I'd be hard-pressed to note whether I have heard more people telling me that they hope the Force is with me or misquoting Vader's famous line to my namesake at the end of Empire Strikes Back. Honestly, either wouldn't bother me, except that they often initially think they are the first ones clever enough to recite lines from Star Wars movies to me. This is how it often goes down:
NEW ACQUAINTANCE: Luke? Your name is Luke?
ME: Yes, as in one of the Duke boys or the book in the Bible.
NEW ACQUAINTANCE: Well, then, 'May the Force be with you.' (Or Luke, I have something to tell you...'I am your father!') Ha-ha-ha-ha...Oh. Uh, I guess you probably get that a lot, don't you?
ME (deadpan): Nope. First time. Really.
The scene typically concludes with the offenders giggling hysterically with me staring blankly at them until they compose themselves again. I am usually good-natured and feign a smile, but I am fairly numb to the experience by this point in my life.
But all in all, I was a huge fan of the movies growing up. My brother and I were avid seekers of all the action figures we could find (which we actually played with and did not store in their original packages). We'd take them out to the sandbox, a perfect stand-in for the vast dunes of Tatooine. Today, I doubt that even the rare ones from our aging stockpile would hold any value to even the most nostalgic of collectors. On the playground, my friends and I played "Star Wars" instead of "Cops and Robbers" or the like. Aside from having movie lines spouted at me regularly, another curse of my name was that I almost always had to be Luke and never got to be Han Solo, who was of course much cooler. Although, a few times I think that was cast as Chewbacca, due to my being quite a bit taller than most of my peers at the time.
Years later, when the new movies finally came out, like many children of the 1970s and early 1980s, I was filled with joyful but nervous anticipation that they would live up to what most of us had built up in our minds. Since Return of the Jedi rounded the theaters in its first run, a great deal of vague rumors went around on the playground, later in junior high hallways, and much later around office coolers all hinting at more chapters in the epic saga being written and produced.
Speculation flourished about possible plots and where in the timeline they would fit. Most turned out to be bunk for quite some time until the late 1990s, when Episode began filming and was finally released on May 19, 1997. Weeks before, I sacrificed one of the precious 10 vacation days I was allotted per year to wait in line with other geeks and nerds for a midnight showing of the Phantom Menace. Unlike many long-time fans, I didn't hate it for Jar Jar's goofy attempts at hooking younger viewers, however, the movie didn't give what I wanted either. I could give a long review on how the film missed the mark, but many others already did that years ago. What it didn't do for me that I really wanted was return the same feeling of wonder and amazement that the first three did. In part, I believe that it was the fault of Mr. Lucas who had subtly hinted at deep backstory in Episodes IV, V, and VI, and the actual story he wrote did not live up to that. But I think for me, the biggest letdown was my own fault—that my somewhat jaded grownup self no longer had the same ability to suspend my disbelief and lose myself in a fantastical realm from long ago and far, far away.
As an adult, I couldn't project myself into the role of Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon Jinn (good thing as he died anyway and was not seen again in the next two movies). Even with the more realistic special effects, the later movies were much less real for me. But I suppose that is part of growing up. Reality becomes more important than fantasy, which is both good and a little sad at the same time. I don't daydream of elaborate space battles or lightsaber duels anymore and have lost much of my innocence since I last did, but I have more realistic dreams of building a good life for my family and how I might do my part to leave the world a better place than I found it. Still, I have high hopes for another grand adventure coming along while my own children are still young that will capture their imaginations in a similar way.
In the meantime, I will continue to try to be a good sport when people wish me well with the Force.
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