I have had several occasions over the years where a friend from ages past will contact me out of the mists in some kind of panic. It usually starts with a facebook message something to the effect of “Jon! I’m having a kid! I don’t know what to do and your facebook status says you have kids and HELP!” I’m paraphrasing of course, but you get the idea.
See I got started on the kids thing (and the marriage thing for that matter) earlier than most. Not all mind, Nik watches Teen Mom and we were a bit behind that schedule but earlier than most non the less.
Anyway, my friends look at my facebook page which of course portrays me as some paragon of dadhood because don’t any of us post the really ugly stuff. It still happens, but we don’t broadcast it.
Anyway, my advice usually goes something like “Look, I wont lie, it’s the hardest thing you will ever do. At times you will want to kill your kids so remember that I said that and that you are only a bad person if you actually do. You’ll be fine. Just know it’s going to be harder than you think but it’s in you to do it.” I’m paraphrasing again because usually I ramble on for a while and say way too much and the reply comes back in a word or two like “Umm, thanks?”
See nothing gets you ready for your first kid. Or your second or third mind you. Whenever I hear someone talking about waiting until they are “ready” to have kids I harken back to my dear friend Robs somewhat intoxicated wisdom regarding when you are ready to have kids “You’re never ready. Never. You just got to DO it.” Buddy has six kids so I suspect he knows a thing or two about that.
Anyway, the tangent is supposed to show how this parenting thing doesn’t come with a guidebook.
Except that for most of us it does.
My mom and dad raised me as close to what I imagine “right” can be. I’ve dedicated a lot of space on this blog to being a dad myself, but seeing as today is dads day I find myself reflecting on my own dad.
My dad was in many ways a traditional sort if we accept the definition of a role that has only really existed for a generation or two. He worked, mom stayed home with us boys. Dad was the guy you got in big trouble with, the guy who took us to hockey and soccer, the guy who would lie on his back in the living room after finishing the paper and “airplane” my brother and I, holding us up in the air and us with our arms stretched out and making the obligatory noises.
Dad was the guy who taught us to fish, the guy who introduced us to archery at the local range and taught us how to change the oil in the car and any number of skills my brother and I carry into the world.
My dad taught me lots of little lessons in life but the ones that stick are the big ones. My dad had polio as a boy and has walked on crutches his entire life. I knew this of course but it wasn’t until I was a few years into school that I realized it was unusual. I still remember one of my friends in Kindergarten or grade one or two asking “Is that your dad?”
Yup
“What’s wrong with his legs?”
I still remember not being sure what that meant. See my dad has never let his disability stop him from doing much of anything so I had stopped seeing it. I have learned huge lessons about determination, perseverance, and strength from my dad’s legs. Even now as his arms tire and he uses his wheelchair and scooter more and more and mom and dad modify their home to make life just a little more doable I don’t see anything wrong with my dad’s legs. They are perfect, just not in the normal way.
My dad is crazy smart. He has a bunch of University degrees and could make big bunches of money if he chose to do so but he has always followed a path of passion and service. My brother and I were both born oversees as my parents served with Mennonite Central Committee, we grew up in the states as dad worked in the MCC head office and now he works for Mennonite Church Canada. This may help explain why I work at a job that pays me in t-shirts (well, not really, but it feels like it some days) and why my brother, the proud owner of several University Degrees himself has chosen a job based on interest and passion and left lots of money on the table himself.
When we came back from the States my dad with his bunch of University degrees decided to go back and get one more so he went back and got an education degree and went off to teach high school. My dad showed us that it’s never too late to learn some more.
The smarts seem mostly to have gone to my brother at least when it comes to papers for the wall and the traditional way that smarts are measured but it’s thanks to dad that the love of learning is in the heart of both of us Olfert boys. We watched our dad read everything in sight (mom too, but today is about dad) and we copied the example. I attribute the example to my love of reading and, more recently, writing.
So with all that and so much more I realize now that when it came to becoming a dad I DID have a guidebook. A pretty good one actually. I know I am lucky in this. I have so many friends who did not have good guidebooks for raising their kids and who worked from a “the opposite of what my dad did” approach and this breaks my heart a little.
Today, I appreciate dad. Thank you dad for everything you did for me. From the 6 am hockey practices to the BIG LESSONS to teaching me that everything is worth knowing and helping me learn how to know it.
I am who I am because of you. Thank you.
thewoodsthroughthetrees 