The Ugly Secrets About Fatherhood

24 hours of screaming fights, floods, power failures, food poisoning, leaky
diapers, and a surprise. Warning: Not for the squeamish!


In our house, once an event occurs, it becomes a tradition. Last year Patty
and Emma had a delightful time going to Teddy Bear Tea with Lucy and Gracie
-- so as December came again, it was time to honor the tradition.

Yesterday, right at 7 am, Emma bounded into our room and we began 24 of the
least glamorous hours of my career as a father.

First, Emma decided she wanted to wear the same dress she wore last year.
Patty had purchased a new holiday dress this year, and thought it was
reasonable that the new dress come to tea. Emma had other plans. It seems
the biggest fights occur about the smallest issues -- we think it is a
reasonable request, Emma does not.

This fight continued for six hours, escalating gradually into the kind of
scene parents are extremely uncomfortable reporting to the rest of the
world. After dozens of strategies and attempts, we all but forced Emma
into the blue dress.

She made her displeasure known.

For the next hour, we heard whining, whimpering, and fighting and
button-pushing. I got to the point of, "Emma, if you can't stop this
behavior, I am calling Lucy and telling her we are not coming."

Not effective. I gave up because Patty said we'd already paid (I wish it
was because of my EQ skills. Sigh). Those tea party people know their
business!

The fight culminated in, "Damn it Emma, fine, you do whatever you want, just
get out of our room and leave us alone for awhile," and a half hour of
sobbing. Patty said, "Great, we've spent the day teaching our daughter that
if she whines and cries, she gets what she wants." And that we are mean
about it.

Max was not coming, and followed us around and around in the fights with
Emma. This did not help, and we ended up snapping at him too. The tempest
finally settled, and we struggled through the deluge into the car.

Within minutes, Emma was sleeping, and we drove up the coast to the Ritz.
Yes, this is not just a "pop in and have tea" party, it is a pricey affair
at the Ritz. Last year it was an indulgence. This year, the slow economy
has meant no new web design clients, and that meant we really would not
afford a $200 splurge.

We arrived and found that instead of the glorious ballroom, tea was in a
little meeting room with a story-teller who really has no business talking
to small children. Things looked up when "Sphinkie the elf" came out to
sing and dance with a six-foot bear. Yes, fatherhood will reduce you to
toe-tapping and singing along with a goofy elf.

Emma and Gracie had a delightful time, and acted like angels. It seemed
that the day was turning around! We drove back through the storm, stopped
for Chinese, and then put the kids to bed.

After this kind of day, we needed a break, and sat back to watch "The Divine
Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood." By the time we got to the scene where
there are 4 sick kids and the mom falls apart, my stomach was starting to
roil. "Wow, that looks horrible," I thought. The scene shows one of those
nights that makes people wonder why anyone has children. Do you hear the
sounds of foreshadowing?

The movie was punctuated by the sudden splashing from the bathroom where
water began pouring through the ceiling fan. Yes, in the house we bought
six months ago.

Then, right before bed, Patty and I both got sick to our stomachs. We had
eaten something wonky. We both figured it was probably the $200 tea -- just
a little cosmic joke on us. Suffice it to say, neither of us could really
sleep, and every hour or so one would bolt for the toilet.

Then the power went out.

Then, my next trip to the bathroom included a splash in the dark as I walked
across a sodden corner of the carpet. The flooding had begun.

Trying to get warm back in bed, I said to Patty, "At least Emma seems ok."
Ten minutes later, Emma arrives in our room crying. We both get up, Patty
hands me our "third child," Buddy Bear, who is covered in partly-digested
Chinese food. As I go to clean him, it stirs my stomach thoroughly. As I
start vomiting, Patty takes Emma (and the flashlight) away and leaves me
kneeling in the dark.

Who says parenting is not romantic? A few minutes later, Patty came back
with a lighted taper. Vomit by candle-light -- it doesn't get better than
that.

We put Emma back to bed, and Max woke up to watch the candle-light show.
There is some physiological trick that is secretly passed from toddler boys
to one another that allows them to pee out the side of their diaper. So, 2
beds and 2 sets of jammies got changed, and a couple more stops by the
toilet for all of us, and everyone was back to bed.

The next adventure came when the power returned. I got up to make sure
there were no lights on keeping people awake. Emma does not like it when
the LED on her clock blinks. Of course, the computer had come on in the
guestroom where my grandmother is staying, and the septic tank alarm was
going outside. Finally I find my way back to bed, cold, aching, feverish,
and soggy.

The rest of the night continued in this vein. These are secrets they never
tell to men before fatherhood lest the species die out. As long as I am
breaking the silence, though, there is one more secret you have to read.

At 3:30 this morning, Patty was tucking Max in, and I was tucking Emma in.
I pulled two blankets up around her because of the cold, and touched her
forehead. Emma looked at me and smiled, and said, "I love you Daddy Bear."
It no longer mattered to me how awful the night was -- because we were a
family.

It is astounding how love changes your perspective. This morning, 24 hours
after the dress-fight started, Emma and I were laying on the couch, her head
on my arm. As the sun came up, I was not missing glamour, or even the
romance. I did not that the water damage repair was going on the credit
card, it did not matter that my stomach felt like a football team had been
practicing on me. Because I had something more elusive, more lasting, and
more powerful.

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Thank you for reading,
-Josh

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This is an EQ Reflection from Six Seconds EQ Network. Feel free to forward
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©2002, Joshua Freedman - http://www.6seconds.org
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