How’s it going?
Responding to the constant questioning of how it is to now be a dad
A day well spent in the woods. Poopy diapers included.
I want to start this with gratitude for the people who ask about me and how I'm doing.
Thank you.
More often than not, people are asking about the baby and the mom. Very rarely does it come down to the dad and genuinely ask about your day-to-day, rather than just the casual "how's it going?"
But to be honest, when it comes to talking about being a dad, I'm not 100% sure how I want to present it.
Obviously, I want to be transparent and communicate both the good and the difficult aspects of having made the big life transition, but it's always hard to know what people genuinely want to hear.
The easy answer?
"Oh, you know. I'm tired, there are a lot of dirty diapers to be changed, but he smiles a lot and things are great!"
Totally normal spot to end the conversation and move on to the safer stuff like how fast the snow is melting.
The thing is, I don't want to perpetuate the clichés of fatherhood and stick to the idea that I have to feel tired and talk about changing diapers. Sure, it's hilarious to hear about your friend who changed diapers wearing gloves and a mask, and that's a story worth sharing. The problem happens when the conversation ends there.
And all too often, conversations with most other men will skim the surface, pack some kind of joke in, and then move on to a safer, less personal space.
In Greek, there are a few ways to ask how you're doing or say what's up. One way has the simple answer of "good," the other way implies that you really want to know and asks for more.
In English, the how are you's and how's it going's are all sitting up on the surface. When anything but "good" comes back your way, it can be a jolt to the system. But we still go on asking these questions, not actually expecting a proper response.
If you want to really know how I'm doing, that's something that usually needs clarification or demands further pushing.
But I don't want that.
I want to start at a real level. I want to share what's actually going on.
Clichés are old and worn down. Everyone knows that dads to newborns are tired. Everyone knows that there are dirty diapers involved. Everyone knows that it's pretty safe to move on to the next topic of how mom's doing.
We should talk about fatherhood in a way that isn't beating around the bush because we're scared of how others will perceive us if we're real, or how the reality of fatherhood may instill anxiety in other expecting parents. We already hide so much in this life, leaving the rest of it all up to guesswork.
The funny thing is, people fucking hate it when others assume things about them, but barely ever actually give enough information for them to not have to fill in the blanks themselves.
So when you're asked as a dad how you're doing, don't be scared to be real.
Don't be scared to talk about how there's so much more pressure on yourself to not only be a good dad but to be a better human.
Each time you pick your phone up, you wonder if the baby is going to see you escaping into another world and slowly start to feel neglected.
That the pressure of overcoming your own moral failings makes it even harder to relax at night when you would normally throw the TV on, but you don't want a household where your kids watch TV all day.
But you also need to talk about how you start to cry every time you swing your baby in your arms and tell them you love them and promise to protect them as well as you can for the rest of your life.
And how mind-boggling it is to see how quickly your baby is growing and the fear of life moving too fast that comes along with it.
And the panic that hits immediately when your baby's unstable head abruptly swings from one side to the other and you're worried you'll have a baby that looks like Nearly Headless Nick.
And the deep, deep difficulty you encounter when you watch your partner struggle because more than anything you want to fix everything and make both the baby and them the happiest people in the world, even if it means sacrificing your own mental well-being.
And the one time that you wondered if you maybe regretted having a baby to quickly realize that you don't, but then feel immediately guilty for even having that thought.
And how every day you struggle to pull yourself away from simply staring at your baby, admiring and loving them so deeply, to go and do something as mundane as the dishes.
And how it's the best thing that could have ever happened to you.
That you finally understand why people wanted kids while you went back and forth on it for so many years.
And that you're grateful you finally came around to it.
But when everyone else wants to talk about politics or the weather, how does anyone manage to break through to the real shit?
And even more so, do the others actually want to hear it?
So, how do we talk about fatherhood?
Do we play it safe for the sake of ourselves and others, or do we bring it all to the table and lay it out for all to see? There are dangers in both, and there's great growth in both.
For me, I've never liked holding back. I've done it in far too many ways for far too long.
So go ahead, ask me how I'm doing.
I'm happy to answer.
