Fathers and mothers are fundamentally different. Each has a different role and influence on how a child grows up.
It’s clear that the concept of fatherhood is under attack and this makes it just a bit harder for a man to step up in taking care of his children.
The way this is done is not to directly attack fatherhood itself because it would be a little too obvious but to target something far deeper and more powerful in a man’s psyche; his manhood.
There has been an active endeavour to separate the image of a nurturing father and a masculine man. Research which attempts to show a link between lower testosterone and higher oestrogen to more involved fathers. Studies which try to show that better dads have smaller testicles.
Subtly in the background is the implied message which almost apologetically pats you on the back and tells you, “It’s all right. You’re a great father. Even if you have small balls and low testosterone. Even if you’re the farthest thing from that idea of an alpha male which so many of your gender strive for. It’s worth the sacrifice because you’re an awesome father and your kids will benefit.”
There is something very broken and sad in this message. And one of the most painful places to strike a man is in his dignity and identity as a man and his manliness. Even more significant than his need to be seen as a good father is his need to be firstly validated as a man.
Small wonder then that so many men stick to what is more socially acceptable; to be the breadwinner and provider for the family, to come home and discipline the kids when they have erred during the day, to be the protector when the family is in physical danger.
It’s true that these are important things for a man to strive for, and part of a father’s core responsibility is to provide for and protect his family, but is that all there is?
I think part of the problem is that because mothers have taken on the parenting role with such gusto and natural ownership, the standard of good parenting is based on what moms do. So dads are expected to take on that softer, nurturing approach which is not necessarily what is needed at all.
My wife and I do the same activities for our daughters in vastly different ways.
When the baby poos, my wife carefully holds her over the sink, rinses with baby soap and warm water, dries with a fresh, soft towel, applies nappy rash cream and carefully puts on a new diaper.
When the baby poos, I whip out the wet wipes, use precisely three pieces to mop up everything, wrap it all up in the old diaper, snap on a new diaper and we’re good to go.
When my 2-year-old daughter poos, my wife uses the toilet nozzle to gentle wash her and then uses as much tissue as needed to dry her properly.
When my 2-year-old daughter poos, I make her stand in the shower stall facing away from me with palms on the opposite wall and I hose her down with the shower nozzle turned on full.
When my wife takes my daughter to the park, she walks hand in hand around for 10 minutes then quickly heads back home saying she doesn’t want her to be in the outside heat too long or be exposed to mosquitoes.
Whey I take my daughter to the park, I let go of her hand and encourage her to run up and down the hills and fields. We’ll come home an hour or two later with mud on her arms and legs, and an extra bruise on her forehead but with a big smile on her face.
When they run to my wife crying, she’ll immediately pick them up, embrace them, take on and share their pain, seemingly almost crying herself sometimes.
When they run to me crying, I’ll sit them on my lap and ask ‘What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?’ Then after they calm down enough to tell me, I’ll tell them, “It doesn’t look too bad. Come, let me give you a hug and you’re going to feel better.” Or I’ll say, “It’s OK to cry about big things but we don’t always need to cry about small things. This is a small thing. I’m going to get you a glass of water and it’s going to be all right.”
The point is not that a man should not be nurturing; it’s that you can choose to be a parent and still be true to yourself. You don’t have to model the ideal father based on the motherhood examples around you. A father doesn’t have to try to be a mother. (I’m not sure what happens in a single parent family but I don’t have experience in this area.)
And the point is that being a good father doesn’t have to diminish the masculinity of a guy. There shouldn’t be a trade-off and if there is, then your definition of a man is broken, not his manliness.
A man who is able to shed heartfelt, genuine tears when his child is seriously ill and he can only leave it in the hands of God for a miracle.
A man who is able to discipline his children firmly, spanking if necessary, and then taking the time after to explain and affirm his love for them.
A man who is able to look his son in the eyes and say, “You know what? I love you so much because you are my child”.
A man who makes sure he is at the front seat of his daughter’s musical production or badminton tournament, cheering and laughing the loudest, even when those sitting around are ‘shushing’ him and shaking their heads in disapproval.
A man who plays hide and seek, and when he finally finds his daughter, picks her up, spins her around then body slams her, Hulk Hogan style, onto the bed, tickling her until she concedes defeat.
A man who is not hesitant to admit when he’s made a mistake or a wrong decision to his wife and to his children. A man who is not afraid to apologise to them once he realises his error.
These are not men who are feminine or who have sacrificed their manhood to be fathers; these are men whom I’d envision true alpha males to be if they ever had children. These are the men I'd strive to be like as I go through my early years into parenthood.
0 comments:
Post a Comment