I am a father.
I was 12 years old when I decided I wanted to be
a father. I knew then that I wanted to be a dad, wanted to raise a little me, and
wanted to dedicate my life to giving everything I never had to someone that was
a part of me that no one else could ever be. I wanted to be a parent more than
I wanted anything else at the age of 12, and after years of patience, it
finally happened. Xekan arrived!
I was 27 when my son was born, and it was
everything I ever wanted and more. I fucking love being a parent. Raising my son
is the best part of my life, and what I am most proud of. I can't even begin to
express just how much I love being a father, and watching my son grow into this
amazing person that I helped to create. It's fucking amazing.
Tubs have the best acoustics. |
He's also a calm gamer. |
Why would I want to be anything else?
There's more, though. Something I haven't
mentioned yet, and something that I think too many parents are forgetting,
especially mothers. You see, I'm not just a parent. It's true, and I know it
can be hard to believe at times, but there is a lot more to me than just being
a father. I wasn't born a dad, nor inducted into fatherhood at an early age. I
was a lot of things before becoming a father. In fact, I am still a great deal
more than just a father. Being a parent is an honor that I hold, and one that I
cherish above all others, but it isn't my identity. I happen to be a writer,
albeit a very poor and unpublished writer, but a writer nonetheless. I'm also a
dreamer, a wannabe artist, a crappy musician, a friend, an IT dude, an atheist,
a skeptic, a survivor, a lover, a joker, a white knight, an asshole, a bad
poet, a podcast addict, a Whovian, a back porch philosopher, a psychology
enthusiast, a brother, an uncle, and so so so many more things. Not one of
which is vast enough to encompass me. I don't think anyone can be put into such
a bubble, yet I see people placing themselves into these molds far too often.
Everyone knows that one parent that lost all
sense of self the moment their child was born, and they became a parent and
only a parent, right? No. No, that's wrong. Let me rephrase. Everyone knows a
few groups of parents that lost all sense of self the moment their children
were born, and they became parents and only parents, right? Yes, of course you
do. They tend to find one another and treat parenthood as some kind of
exclusive club that only an elite few are allowed membership to. It’s kind of
creepy. Not staring too long on the bus creepy, but Stepford Wives creepy. That
creepy that makes you think you're one glass of chardonnay away from being a
matching set of diaper bags for a small group of enthusiastic parents.
How'd these people come to be this way? Any
guess you make is probably going to hold true to someone. Some may have given
up everything because of an obsession with parenting that might have been
triggered by all of the books they read during pregnancy, others may have taken
on the parental identity as a way of coping with an unplanned pregnancy that
caused them to give up a lifestyle they were not ready to give up yet, or
perhaps they had a parent or parents that made parenting their sole identity
instilling in them ideals that led them to grow up only dreaming of being a
parent. It could be their way of coping with financial struggles that keep them
from doing anything else, or because they feel guilty or selfish any time they
do anything that is not for their child. Perhaps they're just afraid of failing
in front of their children and being seen as weak or less than perfect. Maybe it
is a conscious thing, maybe it isn't - truth is it doesn't really matter.
Whatever the reason, they are no longer any of the things that they were before
their child was born, nor are they interested in becoming any of the things
they wanted to be before becoming a parent.
It is more than just creepy, though. Being a
parent should not be our sole identity, because we are not the sum of our
children. What kind of example does that even set for them? Children tend to
want to grow up to be like their parents. Qualities like passion develop from
seeing it in action. Inspiration, magic, reverence, awe - these are things you
cannot tell someone to feel. Children see mommy painting in her free time, and
they want to become an artist. Maybe they only want that for a moment or two,
but that little inspiration they get from watching their mother paint will give
them an appreciation for art that they would never get from having that same
mother buy them art supplies and just try to teach them to do those things. The
real inspiration doesn't just come from painting with her; but from watching
her creating her own art, on her own accord, because she loves it and is
passionate about it. It’s in seeing her face light up as she shows them her
latest creation or is suddenly struck with inspiration for her next piece. Same
goes with kids watching dad play his guitar after dinner on the weekends,
because he loves to play. It gives an appreciation that one doesn't get from
being forced into music lessons by parents that do not seem to have any
interest in playing themselves. Even the grandparent with the incredible
collection of books that they are always reading and adding to, that instills
into the child the importance of reading and learning. It all matters. You've
got to be more for your children than just a parent. You have to set examples
for everything that made you who you are. You can't just tell them what to do
and expect feeding them and loving them will be enough. They not only need to
know who you are, but they deserve to
know who you are. You are their parent, and who you are matters to them.
Daddies are the best swing stabilizers. |
There once was a man from Nantucket...
I feel very passionately about this issue. I'm
unsettled by the idea of losing one’s self when becoming a parent, and I think
I should give a little background and explanation as to why it is so important to me.
I grew up in a home with my grandfather and 4
generations of women in a tiny trailer in rural West Georgia. Mother, sister,
grandmother, and aunt. My father wasn't around much, but my grandfather was,
and he worked his ass off to support us all. The adults worked so much that
most of their free time was spent sleeping or watching television while the
kids stayed outside until it was time to eat or go to sleep. There was no
energy for anything else. No one encouraged me to read for fun (I was 20 the
first time I read a book for pleasure), even though my grandmother was a bit of
a Grammar Nazi that I caught reading trashy romance novels a time or two. No
one pushed me to play music, even though my father is a pretty good guitar
player, and my mother I'm told was a pretty good drummer (apparently
skateboarder and marksman are also part of her childhood resume that my sister
and I never witnessed). I was never encouraged to pursue art, either, even though one night my grandfather let it slip that he'd enjoyed art as a child. It was never mentioned before, or after, but that one evening I had a
sketch pad out and he saw me trying to draw a face and became very excited
about it. He sat down with me, and he showed me how to draw an eye that didn't
look like it belonged on a Simpson's character. He talked about how he loved to
draw and paint as a kid; but I'd never seen him do anything outside of working
on cars, computers, and electronics other than fishing when he had even an hour
of free time (though we did watch quite a few westerns and a lot of Doctor Who
when the ladies allowed us control of the TV). Other than that eye, I've still
never seen anything he's created.
The thing is, I never got any kind of
encouragement like that, and while I don't fault any of them for it, I’m very
bothered by it. Bitter, even. My sister is a year and a half my junior and my
aunt only five years my senior - I don't think they got the encouragement either.
Sure, we were told to join band or play a sport, but I don't remember anyone
ever asking me to play them anything I learned on a drum, and most of the time
the sports just seemed like forced social activities that was more for them
being out doing something than actually seeing us play - which I can hardly
blame them for wanting. Like I said, I don't fault them for it at all. Life
wasn't easy, and we were always struggling, so who had the time to do the
things that they loved?
I never got the feeling that my mother and
father ever wanted to be parents, or that they ever truly enjoyed it. My
grandparents did, in their own little way, though. The kind of people that complain about the things they're doing, but obviously love doing (my grandmother especially). They are the ones that
mostly raised me and my sister, and they loved their roles. Or, at the very least took pride in them. My grandma was a
stay at home grandma that kept the home as clean as one can with 6 people in a
tiny 3 bedroom trailer on a dirt road. At least until I was about 14 and she
decided to work somewhere other than home (she was a babysitter for more than
just my sister and me). She became a lunch lady, and she was so much happier
doing that than she was at home with children. My grandfather worked from
morning to night repairing everything from TVs, computers, and cars to every
last thing around the house he could possibly repair. He took care of everyone
and was often the only voice of reason in our home. My mother also worked,
mostly for a credit office, but looking back that seemed to be as far as her parental duties could go. With an hour and a half commute each way, she was
rarely home before bedtime, and never in time for dinner. So my grandparents did
most of the major parenting, my grandfather working harder than anyone to
support and teach us about responsibility. He seemed to be the most concerned about our character. He is the kind of person that people
respect because they want to, not because they feel they have to. Even animals
respect him like a strange pied piper, and he’s the primary reason becoming a
father seemed so wonderful to me.
After my son was born, I thought about all of
those things that kids on TV did that I never got pushed to do - piano lessons,
martial arts classes, art classes outside of normal school, etc. I wanted (and
still do!) Xekan to have it all.
Shortly after Xekan was born I started noticing
patterns. I noticed that the occasional reading my grandmother did drastically
increased after all the kids were out of the house. I looked at my grandfather,
who had just finished breaking and repairing everything that my grandma would
let him break and repair since his retirement, and found that he had taught
himself to play guitar and banjo. He's in his 70s and taught himself two new
instruments that I had never seen him play at any other time in my life. Not
only that, but he bought a couple DSLRs and had taken up photography using
online courses that he downloaded and still studies all the time. He was
ordering brochures for culinary school, bought a quad to ride around his
property, and just started doing all of the things he'd always wanted to do. He
and my grandma now take random trips to places they loved when they were
younger and they have so much fun doing it. They'll take off on one at the drop
of a hat, and come back with little knickknacks for everyone (though my family
has always brought me back hot sauce, apple butter, and honey from every place
they go. No, I have no idea why they do this, and yes I do find it just as
strange as you, but free noms are free noms!) They travel, visit old friends,
and they make new memories together that they never did while raising their
children. It’s fucking inspiring. My stepfather and mother bought Harley Davidsons, took
up scuba diving, and bought a little cabin on a lake after my sister and
brothers moved out. Everyone was doing what they loved, but only after they no
longer had children at home to care for.
Like a thug do. |
I know, I know, I was freaking adorable. |
How about some fucking hindsight?
Fuck that. I don't want my son looking back at
his father after he has gone off to college or started a family of his own and
seeing me doing all of the things I'd wanted to do and didn't because I had
made being a father my identity. I don't want him to ever feel like he held me
back from enjoying life, because he is what makes life enjoyable and he needs
to know that at all times. He needs to know that I am more than just a parent
slaving away to provide for him. More than just know it, he needs to see it and
have enough memories proving it to never feel it is even a viable consideration. He needs to
know that he is an addition to my life, not a burden.
So I decided to make some changes, and in the
last year I've started learning things I have always wanted to do, but never
did for whatever reasons/excuses I gave myself. I've started learning to speak
a new language, play guitar, and even how to paint. I am fucking terrible at
every single one of them, but they're fun and I am constantly improving. I do
these things with Xekan too, and painting is his favorite (though he loves
racing me and his Tio Brent to respond to the Spanish language learning tracks
while in the car). I'm even planning on learning to play the violin in the next
few months, in hopes that learning two instruments will help keep me from
burning out on learning to play guitar. I have reconnected with old passions,
like writing and running and going to concerts as well. I'm reading more than
I've ever read before, and I am encouraging Xekan to come up with new things to
do while incorporating him into all that I do as often as I can (or that he
allows). He turns 4 in September, and sometime after that I am going to have
him take piano lessons, assuming the teachers that teach kids his age feel he
is ready for lessons. Not only am I going to start him taking those lessons, I
am going to learn right along with him. Then we are going to train
in Bujinkan together. These are just some of our examples, (not including all
of the science experiments and things we take apart and put back together) and
as time passes more and more things will come up that we haven't yet thought of.
We love Deadpool, so we paint Deadpool. |
Xekan painted his mother a heart, and then declared his next piece would be a PB & Honey sandwich. |
Strongbad, because THUG. |
Brass tacks all over the place.
While it is true that I waited to become a
parent when I was [relatively] ready, so that I didn't have to make any
lifestyle changes, I don't think that's an excuse for giving up who you are. If
anything, someone that is young and becoming a parent before they are ready
should still have their idealistic dreams that society likes to beat out of those that wait as
long as I did (which is not to say 27 is an old age to have kids). Which brings us around to the bullshit we've been programmed to say to each other when expecting a child. When someone becomes pregnant all they are told is
how their lives are no longer their lives, everything will change, they can no
longer do the things they want, raising a child is going to be the hardest
thing they will ever have to do, life as they know it is officially over, so on
and so forth. Why the fuck would we say these things?
People having their first child, especially when
they're young, are told they have to give up everything that makes them the
people they are simply because they're bringing a child into the world. This tends to be taken as good intentions, though I feel it is often said with
a tone of disappointment coated in resentment. It's fucking horrible advice
either way. It isn't true, and I can't think of anything positive that can be
gained from advice like that. Seriously, those are fucking horrible things to
say to anyone.
Telling these things to someone may let them
know that they have to grow up and be more mindful of their choices, especially
if they are particularly selfish and impulsive, but it also sends the message
that having kids is horrible. It implies that in order to start a family, you
have to be a particular kind of person with no sense of individuality. How
often do we all say we are going to be this kind of parent, or that kind of
parent? Why don’t we say, “I’m going to be me, just with kid(s)...”? Because
that’d be crazy, so we have to put ourselves into a mold and use it to shape us
into these made up parental archetypes, even if it means having our souls torn
from us. That's horrifying. Isn't that essentially why most people are afraid
of dying? Losing who you are is a living death.
So, why would I tell someone their life is over
when they become a parent, if I feel like mine didn't really begin until Xekan
was born? Why describe it as the most difficult job in the world, when being a
parent is the anchor that reminds me how wonderful life is? No, I will not push
those thoughts onto anyone, nor will I accept them from any person spouting the
nonsense. Being a parent is not a reason to "sacrifice" who I am and
what I love for a greater good, but inspiration for me to work harder for the
things I've spent my entire life dreaming of. It's the inspiration that pushes
me to inspire my son, and that's fucking wonderful. Seriously fucking wonderful.
Do I need to repeat anything? |
In the end we're all just jelly beans anyway.
It’s ridiculous, because I believe parenting is
one of the greatest joys in the universe. Well, it is for me and countless
other parents. Parenting isn’t something everyone wants or should do, nor
should anyone be made to feel damaged or selfish for not wanting to have
children. Parenting is a choice. Regardless of your opinions of the options
available, it is still 100% a choice, and it is a great honor and privilege
that not everyone is capable of experiencing. Sometimes it’s hard, frustrating,
terrifying, and heartbreakingly painful. Most of the time, however, it’s
incredible.
Being a parent is a great many things to everyone
lucky enough to experience it, but it is not an excuse. Though
what parent hasn't used their kids to get out of doing something with friends they just didn't want to do? It still isn't an excuse to give up on your dreams, to
throw away everything that makes you who you are, or to stop doing the things
that make you happy. The things you want and love may change daily, and
parenting may change them more drastically than winning a lottery, but changing
your dreams and goals does not equate to giving up on them. Those things are
vital in providing the best for your children.
If you really want what is best for your kids,
and you believe they can be anything they want if they try, then you have to be
ready to show them how to try. Telling them to do something that you are not
doing, and using the excuse that you're not doing it so that they can, is seriously fucked up. It’s lazy, riddled with guilt, and just a horrible thing to put on a
child’s shoulders. Saying or feeling that way does not make you a martyr.
Saying you do without so that your kids do not have to, is not a good parental
quality. Unless, of course, you're talking about food and water - things needed for life,
not entertainment or creature comfort.
You can't be an artless breeder and expect your
kid to stay a dreamer for very long. You can't expect them to want more from
life than you've achieved if you are not trying to achieve more. If they see
you content with just being a parent without any passions beyond your children,
then they are likely to aim for the same life. Likewise, if they see you
dwelling on what might have been and feeling bitter with life, accepting that
you can't have more and shouldn't even try; well that is probably what they're
going to do as well. You can't hide those feelings from them, they will notice.
They see almost everything, and what they don’t see, they feel.
There is no excuse for quitting your pursuit of
hopes and dreams after becoming a parent. The only deadline we have to achieve
the things we want to achieve is death. Until then, there is time to
dream and achieve, so don't let having kids convince you that it is too late.
That just puts more pressure on them to figure out what they want before
they've had time to live and dream enough to even figure out how to know what
they want. If you have time to watch television at all, you have time to pursue
a dream. You have time to practice a hobby. You have time to work on being the
best possible you that you can be. Your kids are not an excuse to give up on
yourself.
If, however, you feel that parenting is a noble
job worthy of being a person’s sole goal in life… Well, I don't really know
what else I can say that will show you why I feel the way I do. I don't know
how to explain why I can't accept, what is essentially just having sex, as a
legitimate career goal. Even if I could view it as a job, I don't think I could
understand the mentality that leads someone to desire a job that has literally
no requirements beyond willingness to have sex and having been born with functioning
reproductive organs. Would you be okay with your child saying they want to make
a career out of earning minimum wage somewhere that employs teens still in high
school with no experience or actual qualifications? It pays more than just
being a parent does, so why not? I'm guessing you'd want them to want and do things
that showcase how incredible they are. Things that utilize all of the potential
you see in them every single time you look into their eyes. So tell me why you
can't love being a parent and love
doing other things. Your potential isn't something you have a finite amount of
that transfers into them during conception in hopes that they do more with it
than you did. It’s still there, waiting for you to utilize it like only you
can.
I can't understand not wanting more from myself
or from life, but I can understand the path that may lead someone to that
point. Parenting, like all relationships, has the potential to consume us so
that we forget that we are more than that relationship. We are more than the
best friend, more than the spouse, more than a sibling or nibling or
aunt/uncle, more than an employee or boss, and more than a parent. We are our
passions, our desires, and every single moment that led to the one we are in
right now. It’s important that we remember that, and even more important that
we do not allow ourselves to lose or forget it.
If you aren't actively working on who you are
and who you want to be, you'll just become a noisy bag of bones talking about
who you were and who you could have been. If you feel you've lost your
identity, or can't remember the last time you felt like more than a parent, do something about it. Get off your ass and paint a picture, try
something you've never done before, attempt to enjoy something you are not good
at. Have fun being bad at something, and watch just how fast your identity
stops being a singular thing. Then watch your children grow in the ways you've
always hoped they would, and never knew they could. Realize that their growth
depends so much on you remembering that you don’t stop growing when your height
plateaus or your children are born. So long as your brain is functioning, you
are growing, and the direction of that growth is solely your responsibility.
Own it. Our children depend on us being more than just their parents. They need
us to be people, individuals, characters; so that they can grow into the people
they want to be rather than who they’re told they should be. Be an innovator so
that you can raise innovators, because innovators are what the world needs more
than anything else. Baby makers are a dime a dozen, but great people that
inspire and create change are priceless.
We are all capable of more than we think, and we
can't let the fear of failing in front of our children stop us from testing
those capabilities. Failure is key to growth, and should be embraced by
everyone. You learn far more from failure than you do from success, and it is
important that our children understand this. I’m happy to be a failure for my
son, and I hope that when I'm gone he remembers me as more than just his
father. I hope he remembers me as a loving failure that encouraged him to fail,
learn, and grow with me rather than for me.
Embarrassing a two year old is an art. |