PaParticipation Trophies

The week after Father’s Day is a fun one. Not haha fun, but fun in the traditional way but fun in the ‘internet goes crazy’ way. Millions of memes flood Facebook, Instagram and other platforms for what seems like mere moments. Accompanying these are the smattering of militant single moms insisting on how they’re also ‘fathers’ since dad isn’t in the picture and seeking their recognition as well.

“All the world’s a stage,” as Shakespeare said.

Following that is the inevitable complaints from Father’s everywhere that the recognition that they receive(d) isn’t commensurate with the sacrifice they’ve endured. But before we get into that some disclaimers. Of course my blog is about celebrating Fatherhood, because I think it deserves recognition and it’s not that I don’t think it get the celebration it deserves, I’m simply aware of the rewards coming in a more subtle and unpublicized fashion and I try to give some voice to that. So the hypocrisy, while present, is minimal. Call it artistic license.

Let’s dig in, shall we?

What is it exactly that Fathers think they should be celebrated for and who should be celebrating them?

Having children? No. You completed the most basic function of the human evolutionary urge. Congrats. Recognition for this is worse than the participation trophy you got for the 100 yard dash in fourth grade when you finished dead last. I’d like to throw in a joke about how the 100 yard dash was probably longer lasting and more exerting but I’ll leave that alone.

Raising children? Look guy, you brought them into the world. They didn’t ask to be here, nor did they ask to be placed in your care. Imagine you were kidnapped by aliens, taken to another planet, fed and clothed in the necessities to keep you alive and then expected to be grateful. We also buy cars and keep pets, and we’re not celebrated for oil changes or tire rotations, we’re not given accolades for picking up poop and walking the family mutt. Yet we expect to be celebrated for performing the basic duties of keeping our children fed, housed and clothed? Nah.

Single fathers, yeah, props to you for doing the job. I admire you and I will give you a big, hearty handshake when I meet you because of all the jobs out there that one has to really try a man. But there will be precious few public acknowledgements and even fewer from the kids, at least until they’re grown. Maybe.

Accolades from the spouse? You may get these, you may not. It depends. If you do, great, and if you don’t, then suck it up. Would it be nice of them to say thanks to you for all you do? Sure. Do you do the same for her or is it the minimum on Mother’s Day to say you participated in the celebration? You reap what you sow. Likely she’s in the same boat as you.

I could go on, but this is a blog, not a book. We’re rooted in a culture that values recognition above everything. We post our most minor achievements and day to day activities in search of validation and some acknowledgement that we matter. In a world that’s more connected than ever we are so very…….disconnected. We want some affirmation that we’re doing ok and we want the world to know we’re here and on the day that celebrates us, there’s again, a smattering of posts and………….silence.

My best suggestion is that we celebrate ourselves, and you absolutely should. Give yourself that pat on the back or buy yourself that little gift to say ‘Thanks, Dad’. Because that’s the role. That’s the gig, man. We have a cold beer for a reward after a great job of cutting grass. We take the car out for a drive Sunday to show off the cleaning we did all Saturday.

We take our moments as they come. Acknowledge that although we aren’t getting it right all the time, we’re doing a pretty good job, all things considered. Yeah, work sucks and the bills need paying and stress is a constant companion. Our spouse is overworked and tired and grumpy and forgot to recognize you for doing the dishes.

So we can continue to pout and fret over the lack of recognition and it’ll be a fruitless and never ending search for solutions to that problem if we choose. The world isn’t here to give you a pat on the back and an ‘atta boy’ for doing your duty, for doing you job. Even if you are remarkable at it, I’m here to tell you, not many care. Sure, we can take the off ramp to self loathing and that never ending search for validation.

Or we take our little joys and rewards when they come. And they come every day if we allow them, if we’re present to them. Just like the little rewards we get every day for other things. And yes, it’s absolutely, positively necessary that you celebrate yourself. Every day. Give yourself that pat on the back as I said. And if you’re a dad, then I know the struggle, the pain, the suffering and the joys as well that go along with it. And in this forum I celebrate that. Kudos to you. But the rest of the world doesn’t give a damn, and never will, and that is just fact.

Dad, those kudos, that appreciation, it’s out here. It’s everywhere, but in a world that’s quick to acknowledge, even celebrate, failure, the accolades are quieter, more subtle and more nuanced but they’re all around us. I’ve learned to appreciate the rewards that come and I’ve become more skilled at recognizing them for what they are. And that too is the job. Dads take a little and make more out of it. They build. They create. They support. They nurture.

For instance, last night I sat in the quiet of our bed with the little one my chest and she was having a lot of trouble sleeping. Nothing worked. Cartoons and tv failed, books failed, singing failed. She was pitching a red hot, ‘I ain’t going to sleep’, leg kicking, fit. But then we started looking out the window, counting airplanes and waving goodbye as they departed O’Hare. Fifty planes, fifty waves. Fifty little ‘byyyyyeeesss’. Then a nod and sleep. This morning, she saw the planes as I fed her breakfast and wanted to go outside and do the same.

In closing, who should celebrate you being a father? YOU my friend. Because if you’re pulling it off, no matter the circumstances, be they difficult or easy, rich or poor, struggling or not, it’s a damned difficult role to fill. None of us escape unscathed or unscarred. None of us bat 1.000.

Putting food on the table? Happy Father’s Day. That’s a perfect 10

Roof over their head? Happy Father’s Day. That’s a win.

Safe and secure? Happy Father’s Day That’s a podium finish.

But the score is cumulative and tomorrow is a new event.

Another thing I learned last night. My reward for being a dad that day didn’t come from looking up and out into the world rushing along to wherever and whatever comes next. It came when I lowered them to the sleepy little head nestled into my chest. Lying in the darkness, I give myself I little congratulatory grin and drift off with her.

Yeah, dad, you’re doing pretty darn good.