In my last blog, I made a short mention of the way that families are torn apart when a parent decided to walk away from the family they created in exchange for a child support check. There are a lot of instances in life where somebody walks away from their commitments in exchange for the proverbial 30 pieces of silver. The career-driven person chases promotion after promotion. The narcissist chases after one more shot of filler. The athlete chases after one more championship ring. The musician chases after one more sold-out performance.
The career addict eventualy retires, no happier than when they got their first internship.
The narcissist eventually turns into a sillicone clown.
The athlete eventually tears their last ligament.
The musician plays shows in vegas until they die.
The trade-off is never worth it – and the ones that matter most – such as children – grow up and never look back at the parent(s) that exchanged them for their own selfish pursuits. Most parents don’t realize this until the first major holiday where they fail to get a phone call; much less, an invitation to celebrate the day in the presence of their child. For these people, Christmas is especially cold.
Relationships have a yin-yang dyanmic, and each side must be honored, protected and cherished by the other. However, I’ve seen a great lack of respect for the two sides during the last ten years. Men have shortchanged women because they turn to vices like pornagraphy; viewing women as little more than fuck-dolls that aren’t worthy of respect or unconditional love. Women have shortchanged men from the opportunity to be men, in the role they were made to fuifill.
I’ve never met a single woman that fought for the ‘right’ to mow a yard. Much less, I’ve never met a single woman who fought tooth-and-nail for her ‘turn’ to move heavy furniture during a move between houses. I don’t see many feminists pushing for equal roles in the field of labor, construction or trash collection as much as they fight for equal pay amongst white-collar jobs.
Paint me as a misogynistic, mansplaining male for making these observations. I truly could care less, because there’s one thing that is on my side as I give these observations; the truth. When you have the truth, you don’t give much regard for being popular. When you don’t have the truth, the opposite tends to be the case; those individuals seek as much affirmation and validation from anybody that will stand in their corner while they profess the sky is green – or that their identification as a cat is somehow valid.
Meow, not now. I’ll be far more likely to believe the cat-identifying individuals after they’ve gotten their rabies shot, or installed litter boxes in lieu of pooping in toilets – or when they prove they can lick themselves clean instead of showering.
There’s been a cultural trend that’s swept social media channels for a very long time; the lie that it’s a privilege to work, and that staying at home without needing to work a 40-hour week is somehow slavery. Frankly, I’d be thrilled to be given access to a bank account I didn’t need to work a traditional job to fill.
“But what if things go wrong? I’ll be left with nothing!”
From what I’ve learned after working with a seasoned divorce attorney, that argument rarely holds any truth to it.
During the last four years, I’ve had to step up to the plate as a single Dad; playing both father and mother to a child that needs nurturing and love as much as he needs firm boundaries and loving discipline. Most men mistake ‘disicpline’ for losing their own temper and lashing out at their child, in lieu of being patient, persistent and stern when needed.
This morning was one of the most difficult mornings that I’ve ever faced as a single Dad. I was ready for a break last night – one that I never got. By the time I got to church, I was hopeful that Atlas would go to the nursery and play with his friends. Rather, as soon as I dropped him off, he hugged me and started crying – telling me that he wanted to sit with me, while grabbing me and crawling up my waist/chest.
It didn’t matter (to him) that I pinched a nerve in my back this morning, or that I was at my wits end after a non-stop weekend of activity, play and time together; he wanted to be with his Dad. As he was crawling up on me, I felt my pinched nerve begin to fire again.
At that moment, everything in me wanted to scream. However, just because I felt that way didn’t mean I had any excuse to lose my patience, raise my voice or push him into the nursery when he wanted to be with me.
Atlas sat with me in church.
As soon as church was done, we made a beeline for the door. Once he got in the car, I closed the door and took a moment to catch my breath and let a few tears fall before getting in the driver seat. By the time we got home, I caught a much-needed second wind and resumed playtime-as-usual.
I didn’t take this morning as a loss. Rather, it was a major victory to overcome all of the emotions that begged me to give Atlas less than what he wanted and needed most; a calm, loving and kind parent.
Parenting is hard. If anybody tells you otherwise, they’re completely full of shit – or they aren’t actually doing their job as a parent and outsourcing it to a nanny, school system, or their parents instead.
“Just because it works doesn’t make it right” – “Just because it’s hard, it doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
For four years now, I’ve carried a double-load when it comes to raising a child; wholly responsible for his care, development and upbringing while he’s under my watch, while also being responsible for the bills, bar tabs, nail salon trips and classpass membership for ‘the other party’ – with risk of imprisonment if I don’t pay my child support.
Is it fair? Not at all. However, life isn’t fair and anybody that tells you differently is selling something – to quote Princess Bride.
As a Dad, there’s one thing that I want most for Atlas; it’s that he does better than I do in all facets of his life; his work, relationship, personality and gift(s) he offers the outside world.
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