Stepping Aside So My Husband Can Be a Dad

This post is a last of a trilogy of posts dedicated to dads in honor of Father's Day, June 20th. Happy Father's Day to all you dedicated dads!

When my first daughter was born, my husband wanted nothing more than to be a great dad. From day one he was committed to getting up in the middle of the night to help change diapers and hand the baby to me to feed. Then he would get up in the morning and drag himself to work only to come home nine hours later to change another diaper, help get something resembling dinner together and crawl into bed to begin the routine all over again. But he did it every night, never thinking his job was more important than mine. Committing to be exhausted. Committing to be involved.

Day by day I was bonding more and more with my baby. But day by day my husband felt more and more detached from not only the baby but from me. He felt discouraged. This is not how he imagined it. Where was his connection to his daughter? Was this to be his role? Just the provider? The occasional assistant?

And then one day I had a workshop I had to teach and was gone for over six hours. It was the longest my husband had spent alone with the baby. Just him and her. She cried. She didn't want to drink from a bottle. It was stressful. It was hard. Yet it was the best thing that could have happened to both of them.

You see, up until that day, I was the primary caretaker of our daughter. Because I spent most of the time with her during the day, I had discovered all the tricks for calming her down. I knew which blanket she liked best. I knew her favorite way to be held. And my daughter knew I knew this, so of course she wanted me over anyone else. When the job was simple, like changing a diaper, I let my husband step in. But if she was crying, I would take her. If she was tired, I got her to sleep. If she was fussy, I figured out why. Without intending to, I was making it hard for my husband to bond with his baby because I wasn't allowing him to be a primary caretaker in her life.

But on that particular day, I wasn't around. My husband had to figure out his daughter on his own. He had to become the caretaker. And he did. When I came home, he had gotten her to fall asleep. He had learned ways of soothing her. He had found a position to hold her in that she seemed to like. He had discovered some of his own tricks.

And you know what? Almost all of his tricks were not my tricks. He actually had ways of interacting with her that were different from what worked for me. To be honest, this bothered me. I'm sure I even said more than once, "That's not how you do it. Here let me do it..."

But I needed to make a decision. I could either do all of the parenting myself or have a partner in parenting. If I chose the former, everything would be done my way, but my kids would be robbed of the chance to have a deep bonded relationship with their father. I would most surely work myself into exhaustion doing all the important parenting myself. Perhaps, I would develop resentment toward my kids, and probably toward my husband, for this life burden I put on myself. This is not rare. I work with families all the time where this has become the case.

On the other hand, choosing the latter would mean equally sharing the parenting responsibilities and have a untied front with our kids. But it would also mean letting go. It would mean that things might not always look exactly the way I want them too. It would mean sometimes letting the baby cry while my husband figured it out. It would mean not being the first to rush in and address a problem with the kids. It would mean accepting that my way is not always the best way, or at least not the only way.

I chose the latter.

Today, all three of my kids have an amazing relationship with their dad. My husband does everything he can to be with his family as much as possible because he wants to, not because he feels obligated to. The kids adore and respect him. He would do anything for his kids. They are SUPER bonded. More importantly, the kids view him and I equally knowing that we both have the same authority when it comes to parenting.

It was, and continues to be, so worth it for me to have made this choice. The added bonus? I was able to see a side of my husband I would have never seen otherwise. And this has allowed me to fall deeper in love with him.

The Importance of Dads - A letter to fathers

Dear Dads,

You are so important in your child's life!

I am sad that there is a belief out there that you are only good for working hard and "providing" for your family. I'm sad that you may have been lead to believe that you could never be as good at parenting your children as their mother and certainly not as nurturing. I'm sad that many women believe this. Because it flat out isn't true.

Research proves that you are so important. Kids who have dads that are hands-on involved in their lives have higher self-esteem, do better in school, and are socially more adjusted than kids whose fathers leave the majority of the child care to the mom. This is because you bring to the table qualities that most women don't. Not because you're better but because you're different, and kids need what you both have to offer.

A girl's sense of beauty and self-worth is largely influenced by you. When you are involved in your daughter's life, letting her know that she is precious and beautiful in your eyes, she is more likely to be confident in who she is and less likely to go seeking love and fulfillment in other ways and from other people. She learns what type of man to marry someday. She learns how men should treat her. What a great gift you can give to her!

Your son will learn from you what it means to be a man in this world. He'll learn how to treat women. He'll learn how to treat other people. He'll learn how to be a dad. Little boys want to be just like their dads. You have so much to teach them and an opportunity like none other to make a difference in this little life, and I believe that difference makes a difference in this world.

Moms need dads. It is difficult to raise children on your own. Some moms falsely believe that only they know best. Some even send the message that dads could never care for their kids as well as they can. But when dads work as a team with mom, family magic happens.

As a mom whose husband is deeply involved in my kids' life, I can't tell you how much deeper in love I am with him because of the great relationship he has with my kids. I can't begin to tell you how much it means to me to know that I have a partner in raising my kids. And I know that my kids are as great as they are because they get from my husband qualities and knowledge that I can't give to them. I feel so blessed to have an amazing husband who is an amazing dad!

Maybe you didn't have a great dad when you were a kid. Maybe you don't know what it looks like to be an involved, caring, nurturing parent. Maybe you only know how to be the "bad guy" or how to only be the "playmate". Most likely this is because that is what you were taught. It's not because that's how it has to be. You can learn to be so much more and it's so worth it!

But maybe you are one of those dads that is involved. You do parent your kids with love and grace and patience. You work as a united front with your child's mother. You take your responsibility as a dad to heart and see it as one of the most important jobs of your life. I want you to know that you are valued! Thank you for being the example to other fathers for what is possible. My hope is that what you contribute to your family doesn't get taken for granted and that you enjoy the thrill of raising your kids. Children bring so much joy to our lives!

Perhaps you've heard this all before. I'm sorry if this is the first time. Either way, you need to hear this. And you need to hear it again and again and again.

Blessings to you, Dads.

Tara

Bedtime With Daddy

It's 8:15. The kids have their jammies on. Teeth are brushed.

Two happy kids skip up to me. "Good night, Mom."

I get a kiss and a hug from each.

The kids turn away and begin their climb up the stairs calling behind them, "Come on, Dad!"

This is my husband's cue. He gets up and begins his own climb up the stairs to meet my son and daughter who by now are snuggled up in our bed with their Harry Potter book. Within moments I hear the gentle male voice reading, picking up where they left Harry last night.

It's 8:30. As I sit on the couch nursing the baby, I hear the familiar groans and the routine, "No, don't stop there, Dad!" Followed by the sound of my husband saying, "We'll find out more tomorrow. Time for bed."

Three pairs of feet are heard landing on the floor and hurrying down the hallway to the room the kids share. I hear my daughter climbing the ladder to the top bunk and my son's giggles as he hides under his big comforter.

And then it's suddenly quiet. I don't hear the sounds, but I know what is happening. Daddy is praying with each of them. First they pray, and then he does. A sacred moment.

It's 8:35. The finale of the bedtime routine is approaching.

"Good night, guys." Dad turns off the light and begins walking out of the room.

Two voices in unison sing out, "Good night, Dad! I love you!"

"I love you, too. Now go to sleep."

It's exactly the same every night, this special time with Dad. A bonding time between the kids and my husband.

Twenty minutes every night. Bedtime with Daddy. Memories, bonding and love that will last a lifetime.

Dangers of Parental Disagreement

In a previous post, I told the story of how our lamp shade got broken ( read You Break It, You Pay For It). After giving us $4 from his coin bank, Nate had decided that he wanted to try to sell some of his toys to pay the remaining amount of his half for the new shade.

The other day, we were doing a run to Goodwill to drop off some items we had cleaned out of the garage. I told the kids that I would pay them a dollar for every toy they wanted to give away mentioning that this could be money used toward buying Christmas presents for friends or, in Nate’s case, to pay off the remaining $3 balance on the lamp shade.

Nate raced up the stairs and came down with his large Tonka Dump Truck and proceeded to take it outside where his dad was loading up the car. I could overhear the following conversation:

Dad: What are you doing with that?
Nate: I’m giving this away.
Dad: No. You don’t need to give that away. That’s your good truck.
Nate: But Mom’s going to give me a dollar for it.

Seconds later my husband came inside. “Why are you letting him give this away?” my husband asked.

I explained to him what I told the kids.

My husband did not think this was a good idea. “He plays with this truck. We could go upstairs and clean out a ton of toys that they actually don’t play with and give those away. It doesn’t make any sense to give away toys that they play with.”

I totally saw his point. On the other hand, I argued that the toy must not be that important to him if he was so willing to give it away for a dollar. Besides, they had so many toys that I actually didn’t care which ones they got rid of.

My husband and I went back and forth on this until finally I agreed that we’d hold off on the toys until we could spend more time really helping the kids think about which toys they wanted to give away.

Fast forward to yesterday. I was asking Nate to do something for me that he was reluctant to do. Before the power struggle I knew was coming began, I reminded Nate that he needed to listen to Mommy.

It was almost as if he was waiting for the cue. He looked up at me and said, “I don’t always have to listen to you.”

“Oh yes you do, Nate,” I responded.

“But sometimes I only have to listen to Dad and not to you,” he retorted.

“What are you talking about? Mom and Dad are a team and you need to listen to both of us. What Dad says and what I say are the same.”

And then Nate brought up the incident with the truck reminding me that what I had said didn’t mean anything and that Dad was the one who got to decide what to do with the truck in the end.

I work with dozens of couples helping them parent more effectively as a team. One of the major things I always emphasize with them is that you never disagree with each other in front of the kids. If there is disagreement, you always go into another location away from the kids to work it out so that you can come back out as a united front.

Even when it’s a small disagreement like taking a truck to Goodwill.

The fact that my husband disagreed on what should be done with the toys was not the problem. It’s OK that we disagreed. And our discussion was not the problem. We argued back and forth on the issue and came to a mutual agreement that worked for both of us. The problem was that we did all of that in front of the kids leaving the impression that Dad “won” and therefore must have more authority than Mom even though that is not the case. If we had had our same discussion in private and then I came out telling Nate that Mommy and Daddy have changed our minds and we’ve decided to wait until we can go through your toys together, it would have changed the perception of who was really in charge for Nate. He would have seen us more as a united team than two opposing sides battling for a win.

Thank you Nate for reminding me of this.

How good are you and your spouse at keeping your parenting disagreements private? Do your kids see you as a united front or opposing sides? What can the two of you do better?

Witnessing and Angry Dad

The other day my son and I had just picked up my daughter from school. As we were beginning our drive home, we pulled up behind a white SUV waiting at the stop sign to turn out of the neighborhood and onto the next major street. It didn't take long to realize that we had been sitting and waiting for a longer-than-usual amount of time. I turned my attention to the car in front of us and immediately saw what the delay was about.

Looking into the car, I saw a boy and a girl in the back seat, appearing from behind to be in maybe third and fifth grade respectively, and the face of a dad, fully turned around toward his kids, full of rage. Wild hand gestures and twisted facial expressions left no doubt that this man was more than just upset with his kids.

And now we, my children and I, and now the car behind me, were all sitting at the stop sign waiting while this father literally screamed relentlessly at his children.

At one point, the father raised his hand and began the motion to strike. Both children immediately shrank away and the father, glancing back at me, paused and retracted his hand.

I gasped.

Nate and Isabella, who had up to this point been catching up with each other on their days and oblivious to the scene in front of us, heard me. Isabella immediately turned her attention to me and asked what was wrong. I told her, "That daddy in front of us is very angry at his kids and almost hit them because he was so mad." Isabella leaned in so she could get a look, and for the first time saw what I was seeing.

"Mom, he's really mad!"
"I know, sweetie. And he's not cooling down."
"I bet those kids are really scared, Mom."
"I would be, too. I feel very sad for those kids."
"Mom, that daddy needs your help."
I chuckled. "Well, Isabella," I said. "I can only help those parents who want it." But my mind was already trying to decide if it was time for me to intervene. Quickly thoughts raced as to what I could do to help defuse the situation. Should I ask the man in the car behind me to come with me and help talk to this dad since he was in such a rage? What would I say that would be non-threatening but could offer a chance to redirect attention toward me and away from the kids? Being in differnent cars seemed to make it more complicated.

I never got a chance to execute a plan because at this point, the dad whipped himself back around and, just to make an extra point to his kids, accelerated quickly into his turn making the tires squeal a bit. I was left just to imagine what would happen next in that family. The inside of my car went quiet. Isabella and Nate didn't speak. So I did.

"You guys, the way that daddy was yelling at his kids is not OK, no matter what those kids did. Sometimes we do things that make others mad..." Here, Isabella jumped at the chance to give examples of things that she does that makes mommy and daddy mad and things that make her friends mad. Nate also chimed in to point out the things Isabella does that make HIM mad, although he offered no examples of what he does.

Instead of completing my thought, I joined the side conversation in order to point out that even I, as a mommy, do things that sometimes make people mad. I sometimes make them mad, or daddy mad, or my friends mad, or even the people I work with. Kids and adults make mistakes and bad choices. But (now contnuing with my original point) when you are mad at someone, it is NEVER OK to get so angry at them that you scream at them or that you hit them.

Isabella thought a moment and replied back, "Mommy, I am so glad you never get that mad at me."

Actually, I do get really mad at my kids sometime. So mad in fact that I want to hit them. And definitely mad enough that I want to scream at them. But I make a choice not to follow through with that feeling. Because I don't ever want my kids to be scared of me. I want them to know that there is NOTHING that they could do that would make me lash out at them in a way that could cause them to lose their trust in me. Because we all make mistakes. And mistakes, while they sometimes can hurt another person, are not the end of the world. And it's more important for me to love a person (and my kids are people) through their mistakes and help them come to a point where something is learned from them than allow our relationship to be damaged because I just want to focus on my anger and make it all about me.

I don't know the whole story of what was going on with those kids in the white SUV and their father. I don't know what kind of day that man had. I don't know the attitude of the kids as they interacted with their dad. And while those kids could not have been with their dad more than a few minutes since they had just gotten out of school, I don't know if there was a major mistake on the kids' part that was just discovered by the parent that was a "last straw" event. But I do know, that whatever the circumstances, that dad was not sending a message of love to his kids even when they fail. He was not teaching his kids that we all make mistakes, and while this is very upsetting, we need to learn from them so it doesn't happen again. He was not teaching his kids that he was a safe place to come to even when you mess up. Even a six and a four-year-old sitting in the car behind him could see that.

Children are no less human than adults. As parents, we need to remember to treat them that way, even when it's hard. And we ned to take advantage of every opportunity (even if it's witnessing an example of someone not behaving appropriately) to show our kids that we love them and that we are safe, whether they are making good choices or bad. If this is something that YOU struggle with, and you're ready to do it differently, check out the Xylem Calendar www.xylemfamily.org/calendar and come to the next Anger Regulation and Problem Solving class or set up a private consult. Do it for you, and especially for your kids.