‘Parenting Lite’

Happy Father’s Day… to me! And a whole bunch of you, too.

Today’s a celebration of Fathers, and Fatherhood – or as women call it in their inside voice: ‘parenting lite’.

So, while fatherhood is one of life’s greatest experiences, it may never earn motherhood’s respect… In family org charts, fathers would be COOs – mothers CEO.

But a true CEO would have delegated childbirth to their executive assistant.

Perhaps fathers don’t deserve the same level of respect – our contribution to the process sometimes happening in the backseat of a Chrysler.

Part of it due to evolution, part gender ‘stuff’.

Throughout history, fathers were family providers:

Caveman cooking the slain T-Rex on his prehistoric weber, 6 of his cave buddies looking on;

The 17^th century Frenchman bringing home flaky croissants baked by his various mistresses;

Modern man proudly ordering Uber Eats.

The role of ‘bread winner’ passing from father to son, while women were ‘happily’ raising the kids. Fortunately, their ‘bread winners’ were there to explain what a “rewarding career” mothers had – and don’t wait up, the boys and I are going out, work’s been stressful.

And now mothers also working full time ‘outside the home’ – still ‘happily’ raising the kids.

The gender ‘stuff’ isn’t always a good look for men – we emotion differently, sometimes not at all.

But while stoicism can be confused with wisdom, cluelessness with courage, and one too many beers with “What a fun Dad!”, mothers seem better prepared for the emotional requirements of the job.

Mothers are allowed – expected – to be emotionally open, many of us fathers sternly parenting in the ‘background’ as we observed from our Fathers.

But still treated with a vague lack of respect:  

When a father’s out with the kids, the “You’ve got your hands full!” comments from strangers.

I once watched 5 of our children for a week. An anecdote I’m not sure even I believe – no one else seems to.

And during Hermitville, when My Captor left me home alone, friends were amazed that I could watch myself – “What did you eat”? while patting me on the head.

For me, today is about remembering how lucky I was to have had my Dad, he helping me become who I am, praying my thanks – wishing I’d done a better gratitude job when he was here… cautionary tale, that.

But reflecting on my childhood, it seems he was denied some of the parenting joy, having been assigned the bread winner, disciplinarian and stoic presence roles, in emotional deference to my Mother.  

Fortunately, our generation began the trend of fathers more ‘parenting involved’ in day to day child care responsibilities, evolving to today’s dual career, dual parents.

But while properly motivated, perhaps we overcorrected, becoming too involved in our kid’s lives -and decisions.

Properly motivated by every parent’s goal: Keeping their children safe, on their way to a perfect life outcome – which as every parent learns, is an unattainable goal.

And every parent learns it’s impossible not to make parenting mistakes along the way.

But, as I enjoy ‘my day’ – incredibly low key, featuring meat loaf and IPAs (The Pa Special) – I will save my mental inventory of missed fathering opportunities for another day.

And while I know I did my best at fathering – an experience which made my life worth living – I also know I could have done better.    

Regretting the moment(s) with each child when I could have done something differently, or something more.

And while we seemingly did a million or so things for our children, it should have been a million or so, plus a few more.

For 170 more posts like this –each with a wish for contented children – go to beersatthenifty.com. Your phone will display every post, and you can waste an hour or two.

Or, at the site, leave a comment on this post, and then check the box that says “Please notify me of future posts” and you will be sent the newest Sunday update automatically.  

Easier yet, when you read a post, after 15 seconds you’ll be given the chance to become a subscriber: Life gets better and better!

Or just forward this to everyone you know. Forward it to those you aren’t fond of twice.

TO ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING STUFF:

Thought for the day: The basics of parenting remain constant: Forgive their mistakes, teach them to do better and be good citizens, to be nice to others – and themselves, and love them unconditionally.

My Dad loved Johnny Cash, and perhaps his favorite Cash song was ‘Sunday Morning Coming Down’

Sunday Morning Coming Down  Johnny Cash   Written by Kris Kristofferson

Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad
So I had one more for dessert

Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt
And I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day

I’d smoked my brain the night before
On cigarettes and songs that I’d been pickin’
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Cussin’ at a can that he was kicking

Then I crossed the empty street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin’ chicken
And it took me back to somethin’
That I’d lost somehow, somewhere along the way

On the Sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday
Makes a body feel alone

There ain’t nothin’ short of dyin’
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin’ city sidewalks
Sunday mornin’ comin’ down

In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughin’ little girl who he was swingin’
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
Listened to the song they were singin’

Then I headed back for home
And somewhere far away a lonesome bell was ringin’
And it echoed through the canyons
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday

On the Sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday
Makes a body feel alone

There ain’t nothin’ short of dyin’
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin’ city sidewalks
Sunday mornin’ comin’ down

On the Sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned
‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday
Makes your body feel alone

There ain’t nothin’ short of dyin’
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepin’ city sidewalks
Sunday mornin’ comin’ down