She’s pregnant.
Oh crap, am I ready?
9 months later…
Wow… I’m a Dad.
So small! Cooing and jibberish. Tiny grasping fingers. Your own baby, the fruit of your loins, the creation of life. Unconditional, biological love. Happiest moment of your life.
Then the poop. Diapers. Vomit. Crying. Waking up in the middle of the night for the umpteenth time. Diaper explosions in your lap. More diapers. More crying. More vomit. More poop.
Every Dad reading this can completely relate to those words, right?
Wrong.
Some dads don’t get to ease into fatherhood. Deployed servicemen, families that adopt, stepdads, even men who were unaware they had a child. There is something to be said for the poop, the crying, and the sleepless nights… they prepare you. You get to slowly take each step deeper into the pool, taking it in stride and having the opportunity to get oriented before going to the next step. But imagine trying to learn to swim for the first time by jumping into the deep end… it’s not easy.
Two years ago I was a single bachelor in a different city, with little to no responsibilities outside of my career. No house, no dog, no wife, no kids. Now, I am with the love of my life Lindsay, and the father figure to her incredible 3.5 year old boy Grady. A lot has changed, but all for the better. Meeting the perfect girl but knowing that things would be a bit more complicated because she had a child was challenging. My progression into the fatherhood role wasn’t typical, but the sheer joy this little man has brought into my life is simply indescribable.
When it came to me and Grady, it was easy at first. Lindsay is an amazing mother, and I got to just kick back and enjoy being around the innocence of youth. As we got closer, I naturally started to transition from less of an observer to more of a co-parenting role. And with it, came the realization that I was assuming the fatherhood role.
It’s a very scary feeling to want to be the best dad you could possibly be, but not knowing the “lay of the land” because you weren’t there for the first few years. I struggled with finding a balance between fitting in to a system that had functioned successfully without me for years, while also trying to develop my own individual relationship with Grady. Lindsay and I, as with any couple, had our disagreements, but the biggest challenges came with the little man.
In his eyes, I was just a fun new friend when we first started dating. Another guy to hang out and play with, have some quality bro-time (I’m sure it didn’t hurt that I am a goofball and often act like a child). But then all of a sudden I started standing up for Mom when he misbehaved, and tattling on him when he did something bad behind her back. This fun new guy became no longer just a toy for him. Just like me, he had to learn to adapt. Just as much as I needed to learn to become a Dad… he needed to learn to become a son all over again. I’ve learned that stepping into the father role of a child that is old enough to think and form his own opinions is less about what you do to be a good dad, and more about how he feels about the situation. It’s a partnership.
If I were to give any advice to guys that are about to jump into the deep end: be yourself. Fight off the instinct to make up for lost time and don’t try to be “super dad”. The more authentic and honest you are with the new kiddo in your life, the stronger the bond will be and the more they will learn to look up to you as a father. If you want them to trust you, then you need to learn to trust them, even if they are just kids. Lead by example… they are a lot smarter than you think.
To all the dads out there that either didn’t have to be, or weren’t able to be there to slowly step into the pool of fatherhood – I salute you. We may be dog paddlin’ and sucking in water, but we’re staying afloat. I’m as proud of Grady as any biological father or Dad that’s been there from the start, and probably more. And deep down I think he’s proud of me, too.
