Going into Daddy-Mode. Locked and loaded.

In Parenting 101, I told you all about my scary decision to become a parent, its ramifications, and the effort it took every day at the beginning (and even now) to ensure that I’m being the parent I want to be, but that’s the overall picture. What about the daily grind? What happens when something comes up that I’m ill-equipped to deal with? Do I just tear my hair out, scream bloody murder, and shut myself in my bedroom, hoping the children will figure out that daddy’s crazy and they should straighten up and fly right? Or do I find some way to cope that won’t leave me a wreck, or damage their frail psyches for life? The latter seems like so much the better choice, and the easier option, but it’s not as easy as it sounds.

Case in point: Lexi makes the “well-informed” decision to paint her sister’s face with permanent marker while I’m making dinner in the kitchen. The paints were up in the cabinet, but she used a stool to gain access. They were also supposed to be watching Dora the Explorer, one of their favorite shows, so I didn’t really register when Lexi came into the kitchen to borrow the stool. Upon finding out this incident, I go into full-on daddy mode. First, I turn off the stove (who knows how long it will take to deal with the mess?). Then I separate the children. Lexi gets sent to the bathroom to wash her hands thoroughly (they’re a mess too). Maddie gets a bath drawn for her, because it will take more than a little water to deal with what’s all over her face. While the bath is filling up, I bing (I detest google) how to remove permanent marker from skin, so she doesn’t end up like that girl in the children’s book who changed her skin color completely. Then I call the pediatrician to see if that method will be worse than what’s currently on her skin, or to see if he has any other suggestions (yes, the doctor is the last person I contact). Whatever is decided, I then proceed in that way until Maddie is as good as new.

Notice I didn’t say anything like, “I took a moment to reflect on why I’m such a bad parent,” or “I sat down for a moment and cried my eyes out on my bed,” or “I called her mother, so frantic that she couldn’t understand a word I said.” And I’ll tell you why. There’s something that should honestly be innate about being a parent that kicks in when your children are in trouble. I will admit I didn’t believe in all that jive, not until I became a parent myself, but now I’m a firm believer. I wasn’t the best at making sure things got done when I was single, and even to an extent when I got married, but once the first little one made her appearance into this world, I knew I would have to have a steady hand, and a firm grasp on what needed to be done to take care of my family. Sadly, not too many guys seem to subscribe to that these days, but I still have hope for the vast majority, that they won’t continue to “hit it and quit it,” and actually take responsibility for their progeny.

It’s wonderful to have fun with your children, and that’s certainly necessary, because kids need lots of attention, and the memories they form now are what shape them for now and for the future. However, it’s not all about fun and games. You have to form a bond where they know when they can have fun with you, yet also when they need to be serious because serious issues are involved. The case I mentioned above is just that kind of time when if Lexi isn’t serious enough or tries to fool around while I’m figuring out what to do with Maddie, she could cause further issues. The key is to make sure your kids know the difference, and they can. Maddie knows when I’m serious and when I need her to be serious, and she’s only four years old. It can be done. But then, as a parent, I need to make sure I plan for contingencies when things don’t go as I had originally planned. Plan B is so very important dealing with the day-to-day maintenance of children, and Plan C, and Plan D too. Unpredictability is the only predictable thing about children.

Coming soon: discipline. Oh boy.

Sam

On Parenting and Parenthood