I get it now, Dad.
Have you ever heard someone say that raising kids is like being pecked to death by ducks? I think the first person to say it must have had five kids, or maybe just two under a certain age. Because in those numbers and at those ages, youngsters form packs every bit as dangerous as marauding ducks. Poop everywhere, constant noise, and nonstop demands on Mom and Dad. That’s the dangerous part.
My dad, Fathered Seven, knew all about that. He was a vending machine operator for a time during my childhood. He filled and serviced vending machines selling candy and snacks in several schools. It meant that our garage was always stacked with cases and cases of candy bars and chips. Mars bars, Snickers, M&M’s, you name it. It was awesome. We seven were good, though, and didn’t take candy, except on Saturdays when we were all allowed to have a treat of our choice. We took pride in saying our dad was the candy man.
One day he came home with some samples of a new product. I think they were called Whatsits. They were crunchy puffed wheat snacks in barbeque and other varieties. He came in with several small packages and said something. (In my memory he said, “Look what I have.” But that makes no sense. That’s not something he would have said.) Four kids under 10 years old mobbed him, each snatching a package. I was the last and grabbed at the last one. But Dad held on to it. There was a brief tug of war over this little sack of cellophane and then Dad relented. He let go and turned away, making a sound he always made when irritated. I didn’t know what the problem was then, but I do now.
He wanted a package, too! He came in and tried to be generous and share, but that generosity left nothing for him. Again. He sacrificed all day every day, and now this! Being constantly pecked by ducks would drive any sane person to kick the annoying fowl into next week. He never did, of course. He retreated into himself in ways that were not healthy. I’m pretty sure he suffered from depression for almost as long as I knew him. He died in 1994 of renal failure due to diabetes.
My overload point comes every evening at about 8. That’s when I have an extremely low tolerance for poop, noise, and pecking, and sometimes I don’t like what I see of myself in those times of overload. I have a tendency to withdraw, just like Dad. I know it’s not the best response, but it sometimes feels like a matter of survival. Like I might really break something if I don’t get out of range of those constantly pecking bills.
September 19th, 2007 at 3:31 pm
I too have that zero tolerance for whining, screaming, being punched, stepping into pee on the bathroom floor, by eight pm. Last night was one of the worst ever. So bad I downed two Newcastles as soon as I get the brood to bed. Unusual for me since I rarely have a beer a month.
When I’m in withdrawal mode, I do make sure to give Awesome Mom a kiss so she knows I’m not intentionally taking it out on her. Then the mental walls go up and the white noise machine in my head starts to purr.
September 19th, 2007 at 5:55 pm
I think we all hear ya on this one. My Monday night Rugby and Zombie game was an abheration from the usual overwhelm and overload that i experience around bedtime. I’m learning to wear only one “hat” (ie., “Dad”) between 6 & 8 and to try to give them some fun, but
a) I only have 2; you and Bad Dad have many many more!
b) Even taking off other hats (like “husband”, “solo business owner” and “just plain tired middleaged guy”) and having fun takes energy! And I don’t always have it to dip into.
You said “I have a tendency to withdraw, just like Dad. I know it’s not the best response, but it sometimes feels like a matter of survival. Like I might really break something if I don’t” - I think this is actually an option we take which is responsible when we don’t see any other healthy options. At least we’re not hurting anyone directly. And I do it too. I wonder if there’s better options for us…
September 20th, 2007 at 3:49 am
I sometimes wish I had the freedom to withdraw but this isn’t always possible, especially when I am the only person at home over the age of three!
September 20th, 2007 at 12:00 pm
Pete, you’ve arrived at the heart of why so many marriages fail and why many dads aren’t the best they could be. Withdrawal is definitely sometimes the better option for all involved (as opposed to lashing out at kids and spouse). But withdrawal is always the easier option. I would always rather go retreat into my cave than deal with whining 7 yr-olds and obstinate 3-yr-olds.
But as Michelle points out, she and Mothered Five don’t have that option. So if I take that path of least resistance consistently, the marriage can’t help but take a hit. And therein lies the paradox that I’m just starting to understand: what’s good for me is not necessarily good for US. That’s the refiner’s fire of marriage and fatherhood, and it will either change the man or destroy the marriage.
September 20th, 2007 at 4:27 pm
Boy will it ever! The “withdrawal” instinct is what I was referring to in the kind of freaky image and caption I use on my About Page: “Freakedout Fathers - healthier than hiding in a drawer!”
Engaging proactively and lovingly with others is THE developmental task for Fathers in our 20s-40s huh?
September 20th, 2007 at 4:47 pm
Yep, that’s why the image is perfect. I laughed out loud the first time I saw it because I’d been there. The only reason I haven’t literally crawled into the drawer is that we don’t have a drawer big enough.
September 20th, 2007 at 5:59 pm
Glad you boys recognise the stresses mums face sometimes! I understand that (more often than not) dads go off to work and that can be stressful too, while we mums get to stay at home…yeah, like, it’s soooo relaxing. Only someone who’s never done it could possibly think that looking after children of any age would be relaxing!
September 21st, 2007 at 6:47 am
Looking after 15 fully grown children at work poses its own set of stresses, however I get to leave them AT WORK.
My two are lovely hurricanes, and I still don’t know how my lovely Michelle does it. I can’t keep up with her OR the kids come the weekend… so by then, she has 3 to raise…
Retreating isn’t my style - never has been. I get that it works for people, though. I do get over kid stuff sometimes before they are in bed… sometimes when they SHOULD BE ASLEEP (at 2am, say?!). A good dose of sociality and Halo usually does the trick, however infrequent…
November 2nd, 2007 at 1:44 pm
[…] I am excited beyond all reason for this trip. Sleeping until we’re done…I can barely imagine what that must be like. It’s our first getaway without diapers and shock collars since Girl 2 was born, and probably much longer than that. In fact, I don’t remember the last time we went anywhere alone for any period longer than an evening. What if we don’t have anything to talk about?? What fills the void when it’s not filled by the constant pecking of ducks? […]