I’m a dad?

At more than one point in my two-year fathering career, I’ve looked at my wonderful little boy and thought, “I’m the Dad.” I remember, not so long ago, riding around town with my Dad, doing nothing but what he calls “loafering” (I have no clue about the spelling). I remember wanting him to stay home just so that he could put me to sleep (he was a truck driver) or buying him a rock of fools gold as a memento of his youngest son (Which he kept with him in his truck until it bounced around into dust).

And now, I look at this tiny version of me (or a version of my wife, depending on his mood and the way he looks at you) and I realize that I’m no longer just a son, but a father. That’s overwhelming to say the least. I viewed my father as a superman who could take down any obstacle. I still do in many ways. Can I live up to the same as a father? My only logical conclusion is, “NO WAY!” I’m not superhuman. At times, I barely feel human (and at other times, I feel all together too human). I have a temper. I don’t play with him enough. I stress. I get caught up in my activities. I…. Well, I just don’t have what it takes to fulfill that role!

Or do I. As an adult, I can look back and see that my father wasn’t perfect. I can honestly say that he was closer to perfection in many ways than anyone else I know, but I realize his faults. Maybe one day Reagan will understand that I’m not superman, but for now, I’m just Daa-DEE that comes home everyday at 5 o’clock, which is usually the first time he sees me, and tickles him. And he’s the little, vulnerable boy that notices when Daddy sits at the computer working after that five o’clock tickle fest, and artfully dodges his calls of Daa-DEE and his tries to grab my hand so that he can lead me off on one of his adventures (usually a run to the refrigerator, where he opens it up and points to Bacos, Danimals, Sprite, etc. and says, “This"). What am I supposed to do with such a creation as this?

I can tell you with certainty that his attitude is different when his Daddy is wholly there for him. When I come home and take all the time in the world for him to climb onto my back, or to build up the blocks and tear them down. Then to snuggle with him in the floor and watch Veggietales.

But I’m too busy to do that everyday, right? (Did you sense the sarcasm?, or the whining?) There’s no room for me to do fatherhood halfway. He needs all of his Dad right now. For the first 6 months or so, I used to tell my wife that when he got a little older, it would really be my time to bond. That was true. I’ve gotten much closer to him now that we can interact. But this kid is smart, and he’s passing me by with every day I put everything else ahead of him.

I’m a dad? Who would’ve thought that it’d be possible. But yes, I am a Dad.