What kind of dad do I want to be?

What kind of dad do I want to be?

There are so many fatherly role models I could look to; my own father, biblical fathers, and of course TV dads.

My own Dad was a great dad. He was always around when I needed him, and I can’t think of anyone who ever worked harder to provide for his kids. And he did it twice! Eighteen years apart! His second son was already eighteen when his third son (me) was born. Was he perfect? No, but if I could be even half the kind of dad he was, my kids should have a pretty good life. (Although, I would like to have a slightly better grip on the concept of time management. Alas, however, I notice more and more that I am losing that battle.)

Let’s look at TV dad’s for a minute.

I’ve always said that Al Bundy is the greatest TV dad. This is not exactly true. Yes, he loves his family, and yes, he has beaten up a number of his daughter’s boyfriends (with the patented slam into the doorframe), but come on, I can do better.[1]

Andy Griffith?

Meh, too much wholesome, not enough edge.

Red Forman?

I’d need more feet…

Ray Barone?

I think my mom may be offended if I make this comparison.

Ok, TV may not be the best place to look. Let’s try the Bible.

 There’s Abraham.

Whoa! Hold the Phone! Didn’t he take his son to a mountain to murder him?[2]

Yes, he did, but he did it because God told him to. Let’s back up a bit.

You’ve got Abram. He’s an old man, like 100, and he’s only ever had one kid. This kids name is Ishmael, but he wasn’t born of Abram’s wife. God says that Abram and his wife, Sarah, also an old lady,  are going to have a son of their own; they laugh. Well God makes them have a baby, and to get them back for laughing at him, God inserts laughter (or a “ha”) into Abram’s name.[3]

So Abraham is all happy, he’s got a new kid who’s awesome, and God has sent his concubine and Ishmael away.[4] God, however, wants to see how faithful Abraham really is, so he tells him to take Isaac up a mountain and kill him as a sacrifice, and Abraham decides to.

Why does that mean he’s a good dad?

Because he does what God asks. He takes his newly give son up the mountain and prepares to kill him, but God stops him at the last minute. Because of Abraham’s faith, he was allowed to keep his son.[5]

I want to be that dad!

I want to hear God’s command and do it. Yeah, it may be a sucky decision to have to make, but I want to always make the faithful Godly decision.[6] I want to be able to set that kind of example for my son/daughter.

But the Bible dad hall of fame award winner goes to…

Badadadadadadadadadadadadadadada…[7][8]

Joseph!

Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat Joseph?

No.

Joseph of Arimithea?

No.

Jesus’s stepdad?

Yes!

Let’s not argue about the fact that Joseph was not Jesus’ biological father, because it’s that fact that makes me want to be like that.

God saw this man, a Godly man descended from David, and said,

“You there! I want you to care for my only begotten son.”

That right there is a BIG responsibility. You can’t take that lightly. God was placing his baby child, the only hope for humanity’s salvation, his perfect sacrifice, into a human’s hands.

I want to be that guy. I want God to see me and trust me enough to give me an amazing piece of his plan to carry out. I want to be God’s go to guy, and I want to treasure my child as much Joseph must have treasured Jesus.

So what have I learned in this blog?

I must be my own kind of dad.

I can look to my dad, and Biblical dads, and (God help me) TV dads all I want, but I have to learn on my own how to be a good dad. If I am faithful to God, loving to my family, and work to serve them both, I should be fine.

Right?

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[1] This is not to say I am giving up the ideals of NO MA’AM (National Organization of Men Against Amazonian Masterhood.)

[2] Something you might be saying right now.

[3] Yeah, I made that up, but Isaac does mean He Will Laugh.

[4] Presumably to hunt the white whale.

[5] And become the patriarch of the Jewish faith.

[6]I hope I never actually have to make the decision whether or not to kill my own child.

[7] Drum roll

[8] Last foot note, I promise.

Conversation with the Fetus/Things to learn

I had a conversation with my child last night; it was fairly one-sided. Anyway, here a few of the highlights:

1.      Hi there. I’m your dad. I’m the white guy that’ll be around a lot.

2.      I’m going to encourage you to be fat and watch TV. It is a fine way of life; anyone who says differently is a racist.

3.      You are not allowed to watch Comedy Central (while Mom is in the house.)

4.      Bob’s Burgers is back on. We’ll pick this up again at the commercial.

Also, here’s a list of things I need to learn before August:

1.      How to properly hold a small child without my arms going to sleep. I was holding a friend of my Mom’s baby a few months ago, and it came to the point where my arms where aching and shaking. How do people do this for hours at a time?

2.      How to deal with poop and vomit. This is going to be hard. I’ve always had a hair trigger on my gag reflex. The one morning sickness bout that we’ve had ended with me peeking around the corner to see if MaryGrace was ok. This was after I had almost thrown up myself.

3.      How to throw better than a girl. This is negated by me having a girl. Then I’ll have to maintain my current throwing prowess.

4.      How to love a child that is not a boy. THIS IS A JOKE~!

Baby Blues

            I found out I was going to be a father on December 8^th, 2010. I spent the rest of that day making a sound that sounded a bit like an inbred professional wrestling fan. I was distraught, excited, terrified, ecstatic, and otherwise crazed. It took about a day before I started to feel better about it and then it hit me:

            I’m going to have a son or a daughter.

            Holy crap! Big revelation!

            Let me back up. I am big believer in God. I love God; He saved me from my sin (of which I had a lot). I also believe that He has a sense of humor. How else do you explain a Bible story that ends “and they ran from the house naked and bleeding.”[1] Seriously, that’s in there. Anyway, what some people consider karma, I consider God having a laugh.

            Anyway, I look back at myself from age 14 to 17 and I have two great fears: I am going to have a son just like me. This is bad. I was able to hone in a girl who was say homely or lonely or not the most popular and use that to make them “hangout” with me. The second generation is always stronger than the previous one. Lock up your daughters and load your guns!

            However, what could be worse than that is if I have a daughter. This is where God’s sense of humor/karma comes into play. My daughter will have a predilection for guys just like I was. Every guy she brings home will be smooth and cool when he’s talking to me, but as soon as they are out of sight, he’s going to become this smarmy, charmless, lothario. (My friend in San Diego, a former lothario in his own right, worries about this as well. He has a son that is already showing signs of our former ways, and if MaryGrace and I have a daughter, the only possible ending is a great war between our houses.)

            So how do I solve these problems?

            First the girl.

I turn to sitcoms (like I sometimes do). Specifically, The George Lopez Show and 8 Simple Rules for Dating my Teenage Daughter. First of all, George’s rules for boys being able to date his daughter:

“You bring home a boy with straight a’s, doesn’t drink, no piercings, no tattoos, and we get to interview him for three hours.”

            I have already begun writing questions to ask the boy (but those are for a later post.)

            Then there are the eight rules:

1. Use your hands on my daughter and you'll lose them after.
2. You make her cry, I make you cry.
3. Safe sex is a myth. Anything you try will be hazardous to your health.
4. Bring her home late, there's no next date.
5. If you pull into my driveway and honk, you better be dropping off a package because you're sure not picking anything up.
6. No complaining while you're waiting for her. If you're bored, change my oil.
7. If your pants hang off your hips, I'll gladly secure them with my staple gun.
8. Dates must be in crowded public places. You want romance? Read a book.

Good stuff, right there. So that takes care of the daughter.

But what about the boy?

I haven’t figured that out yet. The only thing I know is that I will have the advantage of knowing his tricks. If he’s hanging around school several hours after school or going for a run in the middle of the night, especially if he also has my body type, I will know something is up. I think I’d have to take Mad-Eye Moody’s advice on this one:

“Constant Vigilance!”

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[1] Acts 19:13-16