Fathers are from Mars, Mothers are from Venus
A couple of weeks ago, Cherise was hosting a group of mothers in an effort to raise awareness of issues facing parents everywhere (no, I don’t know where she gets the energy). That gave me an opportunity to spend the afternoon alone with Iris. The older she gets, the more I look forward to these times–especially when it’s not the 7am shift. When I got back, Cherise was saying that the mothers were discussing perhaps the fathers could always get together with the kids while the mothers were in this meeting next time. Cherise mentioned that the people in the meeting were mixed about whether the fathers would go for this. Cherise predicted that I might not be crazy about the idea. She was somewhat right. I really like all the fathers I meet and don’t mind hanging out with them. But to illustrate the differences between fathers and mothers, I told Cherise the following story about my experience while she was having her meeting…
To pass the time, Iris and I went to a local playground. Iris loves running around and being around all the other kids. It was a pretty nice Sunday afternoon, so the playground was clearly the social mecca for the toddler scene. It amounted to more than just an outing–it was a fascinating sociological experiment. I watched as mothers who had never met would smoothly chat one another up and ask about each other’s kids and the latest happenings. Meanwhile, the fathers all kept to themselves. Even when both parents were there, the women would chat while the men would awkwardly meander around. But that’s not to say I didn’t have any interaction with any of the fathers…
As Iris and I walked around the playground, she spied the swings and pointed. She felt like going for a ride (actually, she demanded it). So, I pop her in the seat and we start swinging. Meanwhile, another father with a daughter starting walking over and I notice the girl is looking over at Iris with total envy. The father sees this and knows that she wants to be on the swing next to us. I almost sensed the rivalry starting. He didn’t like having to copy us. So, here are two fathers that are pushing our kids on the swing. That’s when he makes his move. Suddenly, he starts pushing and dancing around as he’s pushing. Then, he starts pushing her at angles. His kid loves it and she gets the huge grin on her face. Now he’s Super Dad. I looked at Iris and she looked kinda bored and spacey. I was obviously being out-fathered. Well, the testosterone started flowing. I wouldn’t have this. Let’s remember: I’M SUPER DAD! No one takes the title from me. So, as Iris is swinging, I start plotting my strategy. As she comes toward me, I grab her legs and stop her mid-swing. The huge Iris grin emerges as she’s snapped out of her doldrums and knows the fun is about to commence. I swing her again and catch her again–she finds this hilarious and starts cracking up. The next time, she swings and I patty-cake her thighs as she comes up (from many bath nights, I know she has ticklish thighs). Next, I start playing peekaboo each time she flies towards me. For those of you who know Iris, you know that when she’s happy, EVERYONE knows it. At this point, anyone within a 20-yard radius could hear Iris’ infectious laugh. Meanwhile, the other girl is now looking at us and wondering what’s going on. The other father, soundly beaten, took his daughter off the swing and moved on–all while the daughter kept looking back at us and our laughter. I started humming the music to the Charlie Daniels Band song "Devil went down to Georgia" part after Johnny wins the contest with the devil ("you come back if you ever want to try again. I told you once, you son of a gun, that I’m the best there’s ever been."). Super Dad retains his crown. Oh, I think Iris liked it too…
Y’know, most women probably would’ve shared their secrets on how to make their kids happier. Not us men–we had to have our own version of dueling banjos (dueling babies?). But hey–he should’ve known better. So while I welcome the chance to chat with my fellow dads, I may have to learn to be a little more motherly…