I am your father
Such is the calibre of this blog’s readers that even last night when I was too tired, too pissed and too pushed for time to do anything more than gesture vaguely in the direction of the subject I wanted to talk about, you managed to hold the conversation I was hoping to begin. I think it’s true what people say that suit-wearing marks you out as (a) ‘serious’ about what you’re doing and (b), especially in Britain, part of a ‘professional class’. It’s an interesting thing that people aspire to belong to such a class. As one Commenter observed, in many ways it’s the sign of a truly powerful individual NOT to wear a suit: it shows you can do what you want. If I were in Lord Alan Sugar’s position, for example, I would certainly n0t want to don a suit every morning. I would exercise my right to turn up at appointments in a shell-suit and shorts, and say ‘up yours; I own most of the money in the world; I can dress however I like’. But if I WERE Lord Sugar, of course, it would be very important to me to have a jacket on, because I’d have come from working-class stock, and fought my way up to the aspirational level of Man In A Suit.
Interesting how these things continue to be felt even in an ironic, post-modern society where we’re all aware that clothes mean bugger-all in terms of a person’s worth. Indeed, interesting that fashion in general continues to have such a stranglehold on people’s minds, bodies and lives, given that we are all more than capable of seeing straight through it. It’s a peculiar world in that regard: we’re more conscious than ever of how things work, how people conspire to influence us and get our money, how the media affects us, how much of our culture is spoon-fed to us to serve a tiny, super-rich elite… and yet we’re always happy to play along. Hmm. Still, it would need a big blog to deal with that topic.
Since it’s Fathers’ Day, I will instead briefly mention the baby. I’ve mostly kept him out of the blog because (a) hearing people talk about their babies is often, as Aussie friends of ours say, boring as batshit; (b) he’ll grow up and be an actual boy and it doesn’t quite seem fair if he finds himself, a bit like in The Truman Show, the subject of a lot of writings referring to things in his own life he doesn’t remember. Also, it’s impossible to say anything objective about your own baby. It’s more than just a tiny person you have to look after. It’s more like having another version of you. It’s almost an existential
All the same – a few words, on a special occasion, about Kit
He’s very nice and cute. It’s an extraordinary feeling when your own child gives you a gummy grin because you’ve oinked like a pig at them (just at a time when Emily was starting to get a bit tired of it). His tiny nose is really quite something. He makes all sorts of entertaining noises. He is sh0wing promising signs of being interested in the World Cup when it comes on TV, though Lord knows, some of the games have been enough to put anyone off. All in all, there are lots of tremendous bits of having a baby.
But I’m pretty sure having a 3-year-old will be better, and for that matter a 19-year old and a 33-year-old if I should live that long. People are awfully sentimental about babies and say things like ‘oh make the most of it while he’s small!’ But having a tiny creature dependent on you for everything is BLOODY HARD. Before it happens, people who already have babies smugly tell you it’s ‘harder than you ever imagine’. So to try and outwit these people I adjusted my expectations to ‘very hard’. But it turns out it’s even harder than THAT. They’re ahead of you. It’s not so much the interrupted sleep, it’s the interrupted everything. You never rest. You seldom get to do stuff. You are no longer the main person in your life.Which is pretty odd and a bit like Fight Club or one of those other films about fractured identity that people made a lot of around the Millennium. It’s HARD.
So I’ve got a lot of respect for anyone who can do it. If I see a parent who I think is being quite irresponsible or just irritating, where before I would have been judgemental (and done a bit of stand-up about it), now I always give the benefit of the doubt. To even get to the stage where you have kids of any serious age, you have to have done nearly impossible things. I suddenly understand, and am awed by, the amount of effort my parents put in just so I can be here writing this crap of an evening and looking with alarm in the mirror at the beard I never have time to trim. I’m grateful and slightly stunned. How the hell did they do that for 20 years? And then again for all my siblings? My parents must be nuts. But I’m lucky they are.
There’s my Fathers’ Day message, I guess. You might not like your parents that much; maybe you don’t get on at all. You might not feel you owe them – you never asked to be born. But whatever your relationship, they certainly will have lost a hell of a lot of sleep, missed a lot of football, and turned down being on David Mitchell’s sh0w The Bubble for you. So, hey. Cut them some slack today.
Posted by Andrew on October 25, 2010
Four kids, FOUR KIDS, does that make me some kind of superhero or what? (It doesn’t, in case you’re wondering – loads of people have it harder than I do, not least single parents who never get to share duties.) So busy I can only read this blog four months late.
Said it before, I’ll say it again, babies are hard work for Dads in particular because they’re so boring. Once they get to about 10 months and start actually doing stuff, then they start to get interesting, but the first few months are nothing but work with little return. It is a tremendous taboo to say this, and I’m sure for plenty of men it’s not true, but I also know that for many it is and they dare not say it. I suspect it’s different for most mothers who are hard-wired to find babies cute and adorable even when they are doing nothing. Anyway, it gets easier and better as the years pass. I just got to watch ‘The Thing’ with my eldest, for example. That may not be the best example in the world, but you take my point.
Posted by Rachael on June 26, 2010
Much as I try not to judge parents too much it becomes nearly impossible when you are stuck on a plane with a constantly screaming baby. Its painful, shut that baby up!
Posted by Gilly on June 22, 2010
I agree entirely with this, although I think I speak for many Watsonians (do we have a fan title yet?) when I say that seeing you on The Bubble would be very fun indeed.
Happy (belated) first Father’s day.
Posted by Shell on June 21, 2010
This is a lovely blog and just what I needed to read right now. Thanks for sharing that with us. I really loved seeing new fatherhood through your eyes. Made me “Aww” again. That’s twice in 24 hours Mark! Gimme a break here.
I blogged myself, in the early hours, about my dad, but it’s emotional and I’ve been awkwardly candid. It’s called ‘Wistful’.
I hope you’ll do that ‘big blog’ to deal with: the “peculiar world … [how] we’re more conscious than ever of how things work, how people conspire to influence us and get our money, how the media affects us, how much of our culture is spoon-fed to us to serve a tiny, super-rich elite… and yet we’re always happy to play along. Hmm” I’m very interested in that and not at all sure “we’re always happy to play along” Nuh uh, nope.
Posted by Anji on June 21, 2010
Awww Reading this and all the comments have made me a bit emotional! Dad’s are so important, I think I forget that. I have a fairly good relationship with my dad, but when you have access to that everyday, I think I forget to say the important things.
Mark, Kit will love the fact you can tell him about the oinking, his first world cup, what the sleepless nights did and not only all the things you gave up for him but all the new things you learnt and did as a family. And this time of feeling non human will be such a short stage, it’s forever changing. And besides your a man who likes a challenge, Kit is the most amazing challenge ever!
I can’t wait for kiddies, I imagine loosely my puppy is training me up for the job. Obviously, I won’t leave a kid at home alone when going to work, come home and find she’s eaten 3 packs of soothers. The dog did today. Guessing her throat is fine, imagine her tummy on the otherhand isn’t feeling so good!
Ace blog and fab comments, hugs to everyone missing a loved one, but thenk you for sharing and making me realise the now is important x
Posted by Hal on June 21, 2010
My Dad died a month ago – I’m fortunate that I truly appreciated him while I had him, did fun stuff with him and told him I loved him.
Can’t imagine what it would be like to lose your Dad and not feel that you’d treated him the way he deserved.
The lesson in that is – if your Dad is a good one, and fortunately most are – then don’t save things for later – if you think ‘one day it would be nice if I took him fishing/ on a City Break / to the Chelsea Flower Show/ to dinner’ then don’t wait for ‘one day’ – do it now!
Great Father’s Day writing for those of us who miss our Dads: http://www.spectator.co.uk/columnists/all/5259018/another-voice.thtml
Posted by glamlovinkitty on June 21, 2010
My dad died in 1986, when I was 14 and he was 47. I’ve often wondered what he’d be like now. I feel I’ve missed out on a lot by growing up without a dad.
All of you, appreciate your dads (unless they are anything like my partner’s dad, who unfortunately is still alive, the rancid cock).
Posted by Val on June 21, 2010
Your child sounds like a sweetie and I am glad you can oink at him.
Mmmm… I was a nursery nurse in training for a few months many decades ago, but I don’t have any (human) children of my own. Er… I haven’t had any nonhuman children either, just want to be clear on that. At present, though, am looking after Pitzy, a baby blackbird. And having sleepless nights. Did you know that before they fledge, they need feeding every 15 minutes? His daddy abandoned him and takes every opportunity to steal ‘wormblies’ (mealworms) from him, from right under the baby’s beak. So I don’t think Pitzy would be very keen on father’s day!
There – what’s more boring than talking about ones own children? Talking about ones baby blackbird!
Posted by Beth on June 21, 2010
After reading this it made me feel awful for giving my mum such a hard time… She fills both mother and father roles and I guess I never thought about how hard it must’ve been for her to have four kids to look after… A really good blog, Mark! Thank you. x
Posted by Laura on June 21, 2010
My dad is great. He and my mum did a brilliant job of raising my sister and me (although, according to some people, ballsed it up because we now both have zero interest in having children of our own). He is also doing a sterling job coping with recently becoming a widower, bless him.
He and my partner are also scarily similar, which is disturbing.
Posted by Katy on June 21, 2010
I love my dad very very much. I speak to him on the phone at least twice a week, and he tells me what hes having for dinner and how annoying my brothers are. He can be frustrating at time when he doesnt remember things, but then I remember that he’s old and these things happen. Hes truly one of the greatest people I know.
My mother on the other hand….not such a happy relationship going on. I speak to her about twice a year. Though she’d still be the first person I’d call in a crisis.
Posted by Sue on June 21, 2010
Different ages bring different problems and different ways of coping with them. All ages are varying degrees of ‘bloody hard’.
But they are worth it. In the end. Really.
Posted by amycool on June 21, 2010
Katie – Discovery Shed is my favourite channel! Sadly, no father to watch it with as he wasn’t very good at parenting and he left when I was little. But back to Discovery Shed! Alan Herd is wonderful. I love it when he does about a million layers of varnish and wax on furniture and doesn’t seem at all sick of it. The Salvager is another favourite of mine as it’s hilarious. I avoid the fishing bits though, which seem to be more and more at the moment. Who needs fathers when you have Alan Herd?
Glad you enjoyed your first Fathers’ Day Mark! Soon Kit will be old enough to do Piaget-style experiments on, like putting a dot of face paint on his head without him noticing, putting him in front of a mirror and seeing if he wipes it off. Not that I advocate experimenting on your children. But it would be fun.
Posted by Andy on June 21, 2010
I was the same as you when it came to parents having a hard time whilst out with their kids – having a five year old now I just think “at least it’s not just us!”
I agree that it can be extremely tedious listening to other people banging on about how great their kids are, and I try really hard to avoid it unless someone specifically asks – however, can I just take this opportunity to say “IT’S AWSOME”. We’ve a daughter due in 5 weeks as well so are about to go through the whole thing again after we’d just about managed to block out the pain.
Great blog BTW, I only found it after you’d been on Alan Davis’s show on the radio. I saw you at Newcastle Central Station once while we were waiting for the same train. I would have said hi but you looked like you really needed some peace and quiet so decided against it. I’m never sure of the protocol in those situations, but anyway, belated hi!
Posted by Catherine on June 21, 2010
I have no Dad. He passed 24 years ago when my oldest was 3 months old. But when I was a teenager, he taught me to drive. He helped me with math homework because he was an engineer, but he drove me crazy doing it. He was proud when I graduated from college (the first time). He didn’t see my brother and sister graduate, but he would have been proud as punch for them. He made sure Mom was taken care of. He was only 58 years old. I miss him and really hate he didn’t see all his beautiful grandchildren
BTW, Mark, you never stop worrying about your offspring. You get some respite when they start school. Then they get all hormoney on you at about 12, sooner if it’s a girl. But I rather like being a grandma. You play with them, help out once in a while, then give ‘em back. Perfect set up, I’d say.
Happy Father’s Day.
Cathy
Posted by Tom Beasley on June 21, 2010
Congratulations for surviving this long as a father and also for being the first person today that has put the apostrophe on the phrase “Fathers’ Day” in the right place. Much kudos.
Posted by Chris (Cambs/Bath) on June 20, 2010
Yeah fashion is fascism that’s what I say!
As a borderline child, I would have thought my adolescent years would have been the most difficult as the tantrums were something else. Imagine a baby but 6″3 and shouting and stomping because “that is so unfair!” *sighs* aaahhh yes it is so great not to be a big hormonal bag of misery any more. Maybe the worst is still to come for you Mark, and there will be no blog then either!!!
Also, just because it’s a hard task doesn’t mean their ain’t bad parents out there as well as good ones.
Thankfully my parents are wonderful and I think I’ve turned out OK. I’m still alive anyway. Just enjoyed a BBQ with them infact. As an ex-child I can say that the effort does mean a lot
Posted by LisaD on June 20, 2010
Whenever I feel like my Dad is a bit burdensome I remember that Dad was the one who looked after me when Mom had to teach night school and that all the sleep I robbed him of when I was collicky baby was nothing compared to the sleep I robbed him of when I was a teenager. At the moment he’s going on a tear about illegal immigrants (he’s getting a bit right wing in his old age). Still he is my dad and I love him so I nod and uh-huh and wait til we’re on to a happier topic. Yep there we are. Gotta go. Happy Father’s Day!
Posted by Kathryn on June 20, 2010
Two things today (usually I struggle to come up with one coherent non-rambly thing to say):
1- I had to stop for a minute after reading that and appreciate everything my dad does for me- my mum works full time, and my dad is severely partially sighted and colour blind and he’s had to look after us a huge amount, and he’s just incredible. Far too awkward to actually tell him this, we don’t really do emotion in our family so I settled for spending exorbitant amounts of money on chocolate. And of course it’s very very scary to think about being a parent myself in an unspecified amount of years.
2- The Northern Irish leg of the iPod challenge occurred today, and it was exciting, if brief (the museum was closing). I was so worried about being on the wrong island, so it’s great that it was organised so well. Although I did have to bring a friend, to avoid giving my father a heart attack on fathers’ day by telling him what I was doing- meeting people I met over the internet.
Posted by (Magnificent) Josh on June 20, 2010
Did Kit buy you a card? If not then you should probably just disown him.
Dad’s are a funny old lot aren’t they.
Posted by Rachel/Pandora on June 20, 2010
Dads are brilliant. I love that mine pretends to be interested in whatever crap I’m telling him about, and that he does Little Monster hands when there’s a Lady Gaga song playing. AND he taught me to drive, and didn’t shout at me when I drove what was his car at the time into a pillar a bit.
In fact, all parents are brilliant. It sounds like you’re doing a bloody good job Mark. x
Posted by Marie on June 20, 2010
Oh dear – I already have ‘very hard’ as my expectations. Better make another adjustment!
Posted by Chicken lady on June 20, 2010
nice blog mark. i agree with your comments about babies. they are great and all, but they are ruddy hard work. my favourite age was 3, then 4, then 6, 8 and 9. i’m not enjoying 10 so much as my son is showing some extremely teenage mood swings that i remember displaying myself, but not till i was a bit older. he’s great though; interesting and interested in things around him. key bit of advice i would give to any parent is to beat your child at stuff ruthlessly (sport, computer games etc) while you still can. it is strangely brilliant and demoralising when they start beating you… i can still just beat my son at actual sport, but computer games now are a total humiliation for me. sport probably will be soon too.
Posted by Katie on June 20, 2010
You sound like you’re both doing a grand job, which is everything we expected. I’d congratulate you, but I fear it may look a bit twatty.
My Dad is currently sitting down the stairs watching that God-awful Discovery Channel thing “Shed”. He loves it. He’s a proper “DIY” sort of Dad – he divides his time almost exclusively between being at work, being in the shed, fixing the cars, fishing, or talking about fishing/the cars/the shed. That’s not all bad, really. It now means I can change tyres, re-wire a plug, and how to tie a fly.
Unfortunately, my Dad and I have very similar personalities (some might say it’s a bit more than “similar”, but I don’t agree with those people), which means we don’t often get along that well. He’s still my Dad though, and regardless of how often he decides to act a bit like a twat, I’ll still love him. He’s quite clever, sometimes he can be funny and he lets me steal his CDs and forget to give them back, so I suppose I can put up with it.
(He also taught me this: “If something moves when it shouldn’t – Duct Tape. If something doesn’t move when it should – WD40.” He says it’s a rule to live by, apparently.)
Posted by Misha on June 20, 2010
I tried today, I really tried. I didn’t explode at my Dad, despite the fact he made me cancel my plans and then spent the entire fucking day at his girlfriends. I generally get on ok with my Dad, and I wouldn’t have minded but he made me cancel (i’d forgotten the date) and said he’d be home before lunch. So I got up, made a nice dinner and waited. And it got to 4, and then no-one’s even eaten the lasagne I sacrificed two hours, my right arm tendon’s and my left palm too.
Sorry. I’m a bit grumpy. I do love my Dad though, I love that he’s taught me to drive, that he learnt to plait hair so he could do mine for me before parties, that he pretended to be interested in horses and taught me to swim. I don’t know how anyone does it, I get exhausted looking after my brother after a few days, and I can off load him on my Dad.
Well done Dad’s.
Posted by Meg on June 20, 2010
Awww Mark that’s adorable! Kit sounds wonderful and you and Emily sound like superb parents! I have no experience of being a parent because I’m 14 but I love my parents more than anyone else in the world and I could not do without them. I can imagine what all parents go through to bring up their children and I really admire them for it. Fantastic and very thought-provoking blog!