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Where's Mommy?

I recently had a revolutionary revelation around fatherhood. That's right, a revolutionary revelation. Early last week I was exposed to a friend's Facebook post where plenty of female commenters beat on their chests with regard to their superiority as the "master parent." I found it painful and heartbreaking, being the sensitive soul that I am. For years now I've beat my drum (a.k.a. written on my blog) about all that Dad brings to the table. I've got plenty of cards in my back pocket I can whip out to justify our necessity and explain our equivalence in this parenting game, and why both are necessary. But finally it hit me --- I don't have to. At all.

In the last few days I've been observing my daughter and her confidence is borderline outrageous. She fears nothing real (she's fears plenty of spooky stuff), she goes toe  to toe with the boys and she chews through life with an avarice I can only quietly admire. For someone so small and so young, she has a man's confidence … a man's confidence. Where did she get that from? She almost has the confidence I do now. Why I didn't recognize it sooner is the real surprise. She has my confidence because unknowingly I've been pouring it into her daily. When I think about my son, he's a serial loner but he walks around as if he has backup. Which never made sense, until now.

There is nothing like a mother's love. At the age of forty-two, I still seek out my mom for comfort when I just can't take it anymore. But a father's loving confidence is the stuff of legend. It orders your steps, it lets you know you are okay when at times everything around you simply isn't. It allows you to power on through the doubts and roadblocks thrown your way by others. It is the silent partner to success that makes it's presence known in the lives of those who sadly, don't have a father's confidence working behind the scenes quietly, but firmly affirming, supporting and guiding. Their struggles are so much harder. And sadly, it is so unnecessary.

So I'll shut down anyone who dares to call me, "Mr. Mom" but I'm done asserting my importance in the battle of the sexes between moms and dads. Why should I justify myself to someone who more than likely, 1) is a stranger to me on social media, and 2) doesn't pay my mortgage, bills or does anything to help me feed and clothe my children? I am justified instead by my children, who themselves, at times, don't give me any credit for what I do. And it's fine. I'm not looking for words from them. The fruit of their lives, their fire, their accomplishments and even their rising above their failures, is reward enough. It is a reward that will benefit will go far beyond my own personal enjoyment.

So Where's Mommy?

I'd be rich, if I had a dollar for the number of times my kids have asked me, "Where's Mommy?" It used to drive me crazy when my son used to do it, back when I was newer to this fatherhood thing. Interestingly enough, they asked the one they knew they could get the answer from: me. My one simple, single and now final slant on this issue is the following:

My kids never have and never will have to ask, "Where's Daddy?" They walk through the world with the confidence that their father is there when they need him and even at the times when they think they don't.

So for those of you reading, or who may have stopped reading several sentences ago who wish to continue to push for who's the "more" parent or the "better/superior" parent, I say, let me know how that turns out.

Rant done. Mic dropped. Stage exited.

photo credit: lachicaphoto via photopin cc

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