Minha visão sobre paternidade

How would you describe fatherhood? In one sentence? In one word?

I can never hope to be able to describe the multi faceted nature of being a father. The experience is just too rich to capture in words.

I always looked up to my dad because he always knew what to do. He knew everything. I couldn’t ask a question to which he wouldn’t know the answer. His wisdom and experience knew no limits. It seemed like the best thing I could do is to be like him. When walking to the grocery store, I imitated his gait, slightly slouched forward and leaning ahead, almost falling flat on his stomach had it not been for his feet that sprung forward just in time. I imitated other manners and behaviors too and they are with me to this day. The way I rest my left forearm on the edge of the table when I eat as if to avoid falling into the plate of hot soup. I tend to clench my fists when I push myself off the couch. I can’t seem to be able to find anything even when Rita – my wife – tells me where exactly I should look. But I digress…

Long before Nick was born my life changed I assumed the role of a father. When Rita skyped (an undesirable sign of modern times) me to tell me we were expecting, my productivity dropped and thoughts were rushing through my head for the rest of the day. How could she possibly tell me this over a skype message? I had always imagined being told I was going to be a father in a bathroom, possibly because that’s what happens in the movies. Even in fatherhood, things often turn out differently than you’d imagined.

I was extremely proud that I was going to have a child. The depth of feelings heretofore unbeknownst to me surfaced at once. Strong powerful emotions. Plus it’s as if all of a sudden you belong to a group of people ‘who know more’. Other parents begin to treat you as if you’ve joined the exclusive club and are now better for is. Well, I was on my way to knowing the answer to every question my child would ask me.

The idea of fatherhood is laden with unimaginable amounts of energy. Unfortunately, a lot of it is wasted on picking out the gadgets and furniture that all well meaning friends and books recommend. Baby monitors, for example. You do research on the net, read amazon reviews and check professional testing results. Your friends offer their best advice. After we go through three baby monitors within one and a half weeks and our baby boy wakes up during the night, we realize we don’t actually need a baby monitor. The baby could be across the street and we’d hear him crying. We don’t hear the church bells ringing every quarter hour and chiming the Angelus every morning at 6 am yet we hear every little sound Nick makes.

They say that people only grow up when they have children. Having children carries with it huge parental responsibilities to prepare the newcomers for life and teach them how to be successful (no matter how you define success) and happy (no matter how you define happiness). All of a sudden you not only make decisions about your own life but also on behalf of someone whose happiness is so tied to your own. You want to make sure that the decisions you make will have a positive effect on your child’s development. I feel bad when Nick doesn’t know how to deal with the frustration of being denied something and screams at the top of his lungs; yet I know that I am trying to teach him to keep his temper in check and be prepared for the much bigger frustrations in life. The random bystanders who glance my way when Nicks throws a fit do affect me and I am hoping every time that they sympathize with my task of childrearing.

Days are filled with enormous joy and unforgettable moments pepper the day throughout. I often wonder if I have half as much of an impact on the quality of his life as he has on mine. After a long and tough day at work, turning the door key produces cheering and squealing from Nick, followed by rapid foot work on the floor tiles. There is not much more in life that makes me happier.

As I have done in my childhood, Nick imitates the way I walk, he imitates the way his mom talks with her hands. He will probably rest his forearm on the table the way I do and just as his grandpa does.

So how would I describe fatherhood in in one sentence? Once you get a taste, you can never get enough.

And in one word? Blessedness.

Papai do Nicolas

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