My eight-year-old recently asked me: “Are you a happy daddy tonight?” This could be a very sad question for your child to ask… unless you’re like me. My wife would’ve beaten herself up with guilt if she was asked this question because she wouldn’t want to be seen in a negative light whereas I’m more practical thinking. If anything, I was proud of my daughter for being socially aware enough to see the patterns. It shows she’s paying attention and cared enough to ask. My response was very simple: “It’s not so much about me being happy, but how much patience I have left by the end of the day.” Getting distracted with the bedtime routine and moving on, I didn’t think to follow this up until now. And honestly, I had too many other things on my mind the next couple days to have come up with a good follow up response until the other day, which I shared with my two older girls.
Before I get into that, I want to back up a few… tens of years (i.e. an awkward way of saying 30 years). When I was in my late teens, I started volunteering in a grade six class. This wasn’t my choice – I wasn’t that good a person. I was thankfully asked to do this, and then I continued doing it on my own free choice for two more years. It was amazing and something I now highly recommend all teenagers do, especially shy ones – volunteer to help those younger than you. When I was in the class, having the kids assume I was cool was a great boost. It actually helped me be cool. I was cool because I was fun, and I was fun because I was cool. When I was with my friends… I was not so cool or fun. I was more uncool and unfun (not to brag). With people my own age, I was too worried about what they thought about me. The younger kids naturally saw me as cool, so I didn’t have to prove myself in the same way, which led to increased confidence. It was like I had liquid courage the way I acted in the class because I felt so free (at least that’s what I assume it’d be like since I’ve never had alcohol). I later transitioned into being a volunteer in a youth group where I continued to be cool and fun because I was fun and cool. It was amazing for my self worth. It was also the main reason the youth pastor at the time grew to resent me; I was stealing his thunder. Back then, with the young people I was easygoing and full of patience.
After four and a half years volunteering in that youth group, I switched to being a youth pastor at another church and, suddenly, I was a lot less fun, which made me a lot less cool, and being less cool made me less fun. I wasn’t as uncool and unfun as with people my own age, but it was like a middle ground. At the same time, I re-started volunteering in an elementary and added a high school where I again had a natural cool and fun vibe. Even I was left confused with the differences. I flipped between really easygoing and full of patience to much less (although still more as a youth pastor than as a dad).
During that time, I also played Ultimate Frisbee. When I was just a player on a team, I was a coach’s dream. I practiced on my own everyday, I was competitive in a way that pushed me to work really hard on the field, and my brain that was terrible at remembering things for school was really good at seeing patterns on the field that helped me play any position and anticipate the next move both on offence and defence. When I was a player/captain/coach… it was different. I had some people on my team really not like me (and players on other teams hate me). My dedication left me frustrated when newer players didn’t bother throwing a Frisbee around to get better. My competitiveness made me want to win and not just “have fun”, which meant not everyone got a fair share of passes. And my ability to see the field left me confused as to why other people didn’t play their positions better or anticipate plays. In short, I had a lot less patience.
What was the main difference in these situations? Responsibility. Responsibility is like a weight that reduces how easygoing, fun, and cool we are. In short, it reduces patience.
I remember as a kid my dad was always on edge whenever we went on trips whether it was a day, weekend, or our one-time week-long Disney trip. He was the planner, and he was very worried about making sure we did everything, but his worry to help us do everything (i.e. he wanted us to have the most fun possible) left him not being very fun. His increased stress about facilitating fun caused decreased levels of fun, which as the family planner, I totally understand now. In general, my dad was very conservative and stoic, but there was the odd person who helped him look cool and fun; his best friend, Ron Jones. It was like Ron helped my dad become cool like the singer of Counting Crows singing, “Mr. Jones and me…” My dad worked with Ron and our families got together twice a year. Seeing my dad with Ron are some of my best memories. It was always a highlight seeing him so happy. I’m guessing it’s the same for my oldest, which is why she asked me if I was a “happy daddy”.
Why was my dad so good with Ron? As someone who’s become wiser than my former ten-year-old self, I’d say there are two main reasons for this. First, Ron is a incredible person. He helped my dad feel safe and they had a really great connection. Second, my brother and I were always well-behaved when we visited people, and at Ron’s we were extra well-behaved because we got to hang out with his twin sons who were four years older than us. In our eyes, they were the coolest guys in the world. To their friends? Yeah, we’re never as cool with people our own age. In short, my dad was at his best when we visited Ron because he had less responsibility, which led to more patience.
Tip: Part of the reason I shared that last paragraph was because it might help you think of your own childhood moment of seeing your parents at their best.
I know my daughters love me. They’re almost always happy when I’m done work early and can spend time with them, but let’s be honest, I’m not the cool and fun, fun and cool guy I can be as their dad. I’ll have moments like my dad in the right situations, but overall, I’m less cool and fun with them than I was as a youth pastor who was less cool and fun than I was as a volunteer because being a dad means I’m responsible for who they become as grownups. This isn’t playtime to me. This is a serious responsibility. On top of that, I know what I do today can make my tomorrow easier or harder based on how I train them.
To add to this, in my new book I just published, Men are like Dogs: Appreciating how men work, I make a note at the beginning about how I originally wrote it in fourteen years ago, and I can see how I’m naturally not nearly as hopeful and playful as I was back then. I’m not a grumpy old man (yet). I’m a grumpy-ish, old-ish man. I’m not sure how much of this is because of my increased responsibility levels or the times we’re in bringing me down. I’m definitely not happy about the path we’re on as a culture, and, yes, I know pretty much every guy my age has said the same thing for centuries, but I’d argue we’re in a worse spot now the way phone addiction is so rampant and educated people are less likely to have kids, which is moving us toward a WALL-E/Terminator/Idiocracy like existence).
Fortunately, I finally had a chance today to come up with a good follow up for my daughters and I was able to sit with the two older girls and give them a simple demonstration. Taking a glass of water, I said, “Consider the water in this glass is how much patience a person has.” I pointed out that there are things that help fill up the cup like being kind and respectful to others. As kids, it’s being nice to each other and doing what you’re asked to do by your parents. I then pointed out how by the end of the day a parent’s patience level is usually pretty low. I noted that as a parent it’s easier for the water to go down than up because of the weight of responsibility. I added that when their mom has to yell at them, my patience drops fast, so they shouldn’t expect sunshine and rainbows from me. I also pointed out that the level of patience can jump up and down pretty quickly because of things like tiredness and hunger. I concluded by telling them that they can make their lives a lot better if they can learn to care about how much water is in their own cups and others.
My oldest seemed to get the idea while my six-year-old had her normal response of “I either look like I don’t care because I don’t or because I’m processing this information with the wrong expression.” Some people have resting “witch” face, but she has “listening jerk” face. It’s not great… for her or us.
The bottom line is we all have a starting point for patience and the more responsible our position, the less that starting point is going to be and the quicker that patience is going to run out.
This week may you consider how you can refill your patience cup more or simply accept that you’re going to be lower because of your current situation.
Rev. Chad David, ChadDavid.ca, learning to love dumb people (like me)
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