The other night, I heard several Spanish exclamations by my
husband emanating from our bedroom. The next thing I see is husband running
down the hall with a diaper in hand, gagging. Then husband running down the
hall with a naked baby. Then husband running back to our room with a wet naked
baby.
Clearly, there was a poo incident of some magnitude.
And after I stopped laughing hysterically (but
supportively!) I thought about what a great dad Eli is. He does it all – from diapers
to peek-a-boo to coating the baby liberally with squash (probably some of the
food goes inside the baby too). Whenever Troy is in daycare and hears Daddy’s
voice he stops whatever he’s doing and gets happy.
 |
| Papa Bear and Baby Bear |
If you think about it, any time a guy is a great dad, it’s
kind of impressive.
Last year, our church had a lovely Mother’s Day service. As
you can probably picture, they passed out carnations to the mothers and had a
hooray-for-moms themed sermon. A month later, for Father’s Day, our church
had…a regular old service. Right at the end they crow-barred in a prayer for
all the dads. Eli turned to me and said, “Wow. Mother’s Day is a LOT more
important here than Father’s Day.”
You bet your ass it is. I was in labor for over twenty hours
to eject our son from my body into this world. Twenty hours, dude. Twenty.
Mothers are heroes.
But today, I would like to make it known that a good dad is,
by far, cooler and more awesome than even a great mom.
Why?
Because fathers choose whether or not to love their kids.
The moment I came down with pregnancy, I was blessed (?)
with an abundance of some very muscular hormones. These hormones took over my
life, erased my memory, and turned me into a giant incubator who hated potatoes.
They also triggered a lifelong bond of love. There’s a reason the very first
moment I saw my son – all squashy and slimy and gross – I thought he was the
most beautiful thing that has ever existed, ever. Oh yes, hormones.
Women have a pretty powerful biological, evolutionary,
spiritual, or whatever you call it, need to love their kids. It’s kind of
important for the species to continue. Otherwise, we probably would leave them out in the yard when
they just. wont. stop. crying.
Guys don’t really have those hormones.
Dude hormones are more for fighting off barbarian hordes (or
being barbarian hordes) and bringing down a wildebeest for dinner.
My point is not that I am super bad at science. My point is
that falling in love with a tiny, helpless, mystery-fluid-spewer is not written
into male DNA. Men make a choice.
Being a parent is hard. I feel really fortunate to have
stuff like instinct and hormones to propel me along the path to Good
Motherhood. I am totally content to know, deep in my bones, that my child is
the best one that has ever walked, crawled, or rolled upon the face of the
earth – just like you other mothers know that about your kid!
And that is why I am totally in awe of all the great dads
out there that every day, without chemical help, make the choice to love their
kids and to treat them with kindness.
Dads are rad!
Hey look! A comment box! Give a shout out to a Rad Dad you
know.
