Mother F(ather)
Obviously, the main focus of my blog is my new daughter, being that this is about fatherhood. But fatherhood isn’t strictly about the little one, there are always other facets, even to the brightest of jewels. And while light may shine upon one, the other is in the shadows. Fair? No. But much in life isn’t fair. If you’re looking for advice on making things fair then I’ve little to offer because life hasn’t revealed that surprise yet.
Becoming a father this late in life also entails becoming a husband to a mother later in life too. It means a whole host of challenges that I didn’t predict and some I did, but not to the degree that they have shown themselves to be. It means blending in a stepson who is now in a situation, to him, that is completely normal but one that his mother and I are perpetually adjusting ourselves. It’s not always easy, nor is it always fun.
It means merging not only parenting styles and, in our case, cultural elements. We’re generations and a planet apart. She loves her music, I love mine and seldom do the two cross. She loves her shows, I love the things I watch, and the little girl dictates what we both watch so that isn’t much of an issue any longer. Food is a tricky item sometimes. It’s difficult at times making them blend into a seamless set of rules and boundaries and guidelines for parenting.
We’ve done well, though, I must say. In fact, far better than I believed we would in the beginning. While we disagree on most everything else in life (last night being the value of country music), in this we’ve melded into an almost unspoken agreement as to what the rules will be and what our respective roles are. And chief among this agreement is the unacknowledged, until now, opinions of ourselves and our mate as parents.
When we married, I was very aware of her role in her son’s life and how nurturing and caring she was. That’s natural, for at the time he was her entire world and I was understandably secondary in every decision. When we decided to have a child it was natural to me she’d be the same.
I was wrong.
There’s a beauty to witnessing a mother and daughter form their bond that is difficult, if not impossible, to put into words. While father/daddy is something I’m familiar with, this time it’s been easier for me to watch and admire that bond between them. From nursing to nighttime stories and everything in between, there is an almost tangible bond between them that I can only envy at times.
And while we kid and jest about how she looks like me or her, in many ways she’s undeniably her mother’s child. I can see it in a host of ways that I won’t delve into here for the sake of space and time. This is, after all, a blog about Fatherhood after 50. Which in turn necessitates a discussion of dealing with the Mother. My wife.
All I can say is, it works. I’d love, again, to give you practical advice on how we sat down, discussed a plan and made it work but that would be a bold-faced, italicized lie. We do what’s best for our child and the rest just………….works. That’s not to say there aren’t challenges.
Work is challenging now, more so than before because of the interruptions and working from home with a 1 year old distraction is tough. Social lives are different now, there are schedules to keep and kids to drop off and dogs to consider and just life.
On the other hand, I can see sometimes the exhaustion in my wife’s eyes and I can step in immediately to take over. I can sense the frustration when she’s at the end of her rope and take a little of that pressure off. And vice-versa. Again, we’ve just made it work.
And seeing a wife turn into a mother, well, that’s just a wholly different thing. It’s a wondrous, beautiful thing that is something to behold. She’s become, even more than I thought, a wonderful mother. Perhaps, at this age, I’m better equipped to appreciate the changes, subtle and the not so subtle, of a woman becoming a mother. I’m better able to appreciate the shift from a life focused on self and our life as a couple to a life focused on the well being of this new occupant in our lives and as a family unit.
Perhaps, at times, we get so focused on the new that we forget the (whew! I almost said old) things that were and still are. And it’s important to acknowledge those things as well. Even that at our age(s) we go through periods of uncertainty and insecurity that border on the neurotic. We forget to tell each other what we think and we’re so wrapped up in the little one that the subtle and obvious reinforcement that was there when we leaned on each other is now supplanted by the sometimes overwhelming need for attention that a new child is.
Father and husband are two wholly different and yet inseparable parts of this equation and each comes with a unique set of challenges that when melded together become easy to trip over.
If I have any practical, sage advice on this front it is just that. And perhaps this is the perfect forum for it. Realize that if you’re struggling at times, then likely so is your partner. It’s important to acknowledge that and address it. That reassurance might, and probably will make all the difference. Focus on the victories and not the losses. They’ll be what resonates later in life. Those will be the moments you smile at as you fade from this mortal life and into whatever comes next.
For the record, and because I am much better at writing than speaking.
On my part, I’m lucky. I’m married to a wonderful mother and wife who is as beautiful today as when I met her. No. More. I’m fortunate enough to be able to witness all this and more. I’m blessed enough to watch this bond grow, this relationship with her new child blossom and our relationship take a step into new frontiers. The way in which she adores her son and new daughter goes beyond the familial and into a realm that I’ve yet to contemplate. Though it manifests itself in anxiety at times, I know that the influence behind that is love and concern.
In our lives this is the one true thing we will create together and she will be the sum of our love and adoration but none so important as that of her mother. As Howard Hunt once said, “Motherhood is near to divinity. It is the highest, holiest service to be assumed by mankind.”
Maybe, at this stage of life I’m better able to appreciate that. I can provide safety and security and food and housing and comfort and love and adoration but in all that I am capable of, I could never create this being that sits before me now. It’s a thing of awe if you think on it hard enough. And yet, that is a physical and chemical process of our being that can be explained scientifically and logically and biologically.
I also cannot provide what her mother does, and I’m all the luckier for it, and though the act of birth is a process I can explain and understand. Motherhood is somewhat a mystery. I know it is choices she makes and decisions that she agonizes over sometimes. I know it is instinctive at times and fearful at others. I know it is immensely rewarding at turns and terrifying at others.
And it is important that we acknowledge that. And for her part, she’s doing a fantastic job.
Divine. Indeed.
