Becoming Dad :: Why We Love Men Who Love Their Babies

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“The moment a child is born, the father is also born. He never existed before. The man existed, but the father, never. A father is something absolutely new.” — Indian mystic Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh originally wrote this about mothers, but I think it’s true about fathers too

Over the past several years, I’ve seen a lot of transformations. That tends to happen when you spend your days with people under three feet tall. I’ve watched babies grow from mewling infants to strapping schoolkids. I’ve watched my female friends turn from blushing newly pregnant women to confident moms. But my favorite has been watching my male friends and relatives become dads.

Not just fathers, but dads. Men who care for their children, who have fun with them, who know them. Men who change diapers, kiss boo-boos, read stories. Men who laugh when their children laugh, hurt when they hurt. Men who grow as their children do.

It makes me indescribably happy to watch men become happy, loving dads.

Take my friend Vic (not his real name). I’ve known him since he was a brash 20-something. At the time he and I butted heads a little. I found him macho, a little chauvinist. Probably he found me uptight and judgmental (I was). But he was my friend Mollie’s choice; he didn’t have to be mine.

So time went on. We all mellowed and matured. Vic and Mollie got married, bought a house, had a baby. My Facebook feed was filled with pictures of their little boy, with comments like “I’m so blessed to have this little one in my life.” You might expect these words to come from Mollie. But no, it was Vic who was gushing over his son. Vic had become a dad.

These days, Vic is still clearly gaga over his son. And the feeling is mutual. In one of their family photos, Vic and Mollie are smiling at the camera; but Jayden is smiling up at his dad.

We have one of those photos in my family too. Will is just a few weeks old, in his father’s arms. He barely has control of his neck, but he’s craning it to see the big man who’s holding him.

Will, less than a month old, looking up at his dad
Will, less than a month old, looking up at his dad

Nearly five years later, they are the best of pals. I love to see Will trailing behind my husband in the yard, “helping” with the raking or weed-eating. They play Minecraft together, and Dave is looking forward to the day he can share old cartoons with his son. Will gives as many hugs and kisses to his dad as he does to me — and he gets them, too.

I don’t take my husband’s good relationship with our son for granted. Though I was pretty sure from the start Dave would be a good dad, I knew he didn’t have a very good role model growing up. His own father, who’s now dead, did his best, but just wasn’t equipped to be a good dad.

And so Dave patched together an idea of good fatherhood, based on his own gut instincts and the examples of his grandfather and other men he admired. It worked. By many standards, he’s a better parent than I am. He’s more patient, more playful, more consistent. He’s a better disciplinarian. And according to Will, he’s better at brushing teeth.

Dave makes it look easy to be a good dad, but he once told me he works harder at it than anything he’s ever done. He practices holding his tongue and remaining calm in the face of a tantrum. While I was working out the kinks of breastfeeding and babyproofing the house, he was teaching himself to be that patient, playful dad that Will and I love. (No idea how he got so good at brushing teeth, though.)

Being a dad is hard these days. Men are asked to balance old ideas of fatherhood (unflappable provider, strict disciplinarian, teach your son to be a man and scare away your daughter’s boyfriends) with new (singing along with Frozen, leaving work early to make it to the awards assembly). And while I think that balancing act is good for our kids in the long run — who couldn’t use another voice in an epic “Let it Go” chorus? — I know it’s a challenge for dads to sort through. Every man will choose a different balance, and that’s okay — the important thing is that there is one.

So here’s to the dads we love — the ones who teach their children and learn from them. The ones who can be strong and soft, the ones who create the version of fatherhood that works for them. The ones who make motherhood easier and sweeter. The ones who make me tear up.

Happy Father’s Day, dads. We loved you before you were dads — and we love you even more when we see how much you love your kids.

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Marian
As a writer and editor, Marian Cowhig Owen made her living crafting – or at least striving for – perfect prose. But motherhood taught her quickly that there’s no such thing as a perfect parent. It’s a lesson she’s learning over and over every day. A Midwesterner by birth, Marian lived in North Carolina for 14 years before her husband’s job brought the family to Columbia in fall 2013. She and her preschooler have quickly found new favorite haunts in the Midlands, including Saluda Shoals Park, EdVenture and the Irmo branch library. In her spare time, this NPR junkie also sings, bakes and does needlework. She’s recently taken up running, with an eye toward her first 5K race in the fall. And as for that perfection she’s been seeking? Her Pinterest boards are very carefully curated.

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