When you were a child, who did you want your dad to be?
I wanted my dad to my dad. He was my star: he fixed my bicycle; he painted and wallpapered the entire house; he cooked up a storm in the kitchen. He was the strongest man in the world, he was the smartest man in the world. He was Super Dad.
In my eyes, my dad could do anything. That was when I was a child. Then I got older, and, as time went on, he became less hero and more human. We still shared a love of sports, eating, grocery shopping and scoring a bargain -- ideally, simultaneously! But other than that, we didn’t agree on much of the big things: politics, religion, or race.
Seeing other dads, I also realized that mine wasn’t able to do everything. My dad was 40 when I was born, and in my mind he has always been old. I never played catch with my dad, we didn’t spend much time hanging out and he didn’t see many of my baseball games. My dad did what he could, when he could. Don’t get me wrong, I always knew that if I needed him, he was there for me.
But Super Dad became, simply, Dad.
My own plan was to be married and a dad before 30. Well, I married at 39 and now I’m The 40 Year Old Father. Much like Steve Carrell’s character in The 40 Year Old Virgin, I’m coming to this for the first time at this age, since my daughter was born seven months ago. Sure, I have four nephews and a niece, lots of friends with children, and I’m a kindergarten teacher. Yet none of these have prepared me for the reality of fatherhood.
When my wife and I found out that she was pregnant, it triggered a number of emotional responses and electrifying memories.
Firstly, I didn’t want to be a dad.
I couldn’t be just a dad; I had to be Super Dad. But I felt too selfish to be the best dad I could be for my daughter. I felt that I couldn’t make the necessary sacrifices required to be the champion of all fathers. That I just didn’t want to give up that much of me, for fear that I would lose who I was.
However, the more I thought about my limitations, I realized that my wife is the only person I could ever see myself raising a child with. She’s my best friend, my drinking buddy, my travel companion, my (usual) accomplice, my sous chef, my biggest fan (and critic), and she makes me look better by being on my arm. I got married for a very good reason: I enjoy spending time with my wife, because its fun, and not demanding.
So, why wouldn’t I want to be a dad, with my wife as the mom?
Taking these conflicting emotions into account, along came Norah.
Am I having issues with fatherhood? Without a doubt. I feel like I’m not doing enough at home or at work. I wonder if I’m willing and able to do what is necessary to be a better father and husband. How successful have I been thus far?
Well, a wise man once told me that he didn’t have a chance of being happy if his wife wasn’t happy, and to expand on that, if my daughter’s not happy, than my wife isn’t going to be happy.
So first and foremost, I have to make sure my ladies are happy. This means I do the cooking/baking, washing/drying (and schlepping the laundry up and down the stairs), emptying the dishwasher in the morning, giving Norah a bath, feeding her from time to time, taking her for walks to go grocery shopping, to the local farmers’ market, for a coffee, or just through the neighbourhood. And don't get me wrong, my wife shares in the child-rearing, and she's doing a peach of a job! But she’s not alone. We tag-team it.
Recently, just after my 41st birthday, I spent a week in bed with back problems. I felt very old. I felt like a failure. After I got off my back and started back at work and being more active/helpful at home, I vowed not to be “old”.
This school-year is the first that I’ve cycled to work, when the weather allows me. I cherish the small things in life, like sitting on the porch with Norah, watching the children in the neighbourhood play ball hockey. Playing old-school rap for her is fun. Trading silly noises with my daughter is a prime pleasure. Dressing her makes us both happy, since I get to pick out her clothes, and she ends up getting lots of funny Daddy faces and noises. Feeding Norah food that I have prepared for her makes me feel like I am providing for my daughter. Seeing the progression in her development makes me proud. Rough-housing with my little girl is good fun, especially since she’s strong and seems to enjoy it. Hearing Norah almost giggle, make a baby dinosaur noise, sneeze, cough or just breathe, makes me happy. Feeling Norah’s soft skin reminds me of the bond we have, especially when she touches my face or hand.
I have sworn that I will not be distant from my daughter. I will help to guide her through the maze of life, all the while giving her the tools to be an independent and effective decision-maker and problem-solver. I want to change my world, and I have every hope in the world that Norah will be successful in whatever she decides that she is going to do with herself.
Becoming a dad at 40 means I’m better able to prioritize, and also to recognize what’s important and what isn’t. I wish I had more time to do the things I’m not easily able to do, but now I find that I enjoy the things that I have to do. Changing diapers, wiping a nose and trying to find ways to make Norah happy are things that I enjoy.
After all, I’m Super Dad.
