A Father's Mother's Day

Posted by: Cathy Arnst on May 06, 2009

A guest post from Paul Kidwell, a PR consultant and writer who lives in Boston with his wife and teenage son.

It’s no secret that gender lines have been crossed, either by choice or social inertia. Women assumed more and more earning power, and spent more time away from home and family earning that salary. Men were instructed to get in touch with their feminine side, do a better job nurturing their kids and become less the alpha breadwinner. Well, it’s been a long trip, and although we struggled at times—trust me, it wasn’t pretty—we’ve done it. Millions of men have followed the advice of fellow guy and poet, Robert Frost, and walked down that road “less taken,” transforming ourselves from chest-thumping, knuckle-dragging troglodytes to a more refined, enlightened man who thinks and feels.

Like many of my gender, I have listened to those females in my inner circle and changed many of my archaic behaviors. Which is why we men want our rightful place at the Mother’s Day table this year. The way I look at it, it’s only fair. We do our fair share of the heavy lifting these days by participating in those activities to which I have referred, and more. Still not convinced? Well, let’s look at the numbers—my numbers, anyway..

No longer asking, “what’s for dinner, honey?” I now shop for the groceries and perform the lion’s share of the cooking duties in our home, a task that I have grown to love. The kitchen has become my second home; last year alone, I prepared nearly 1000 breakfasts, lunches and dinners for my family. Truth be told, this is my favorite part of the day and there is nothing more satisfying than standing over a spitting sauté pan, stirring a hearty soup or marinara sauce, or slicing, dicing, and chopping a myriad of vegetables in preparation for these meals.

Add chauffeur to my list of duties. I have gotten off the reclining chair and now drive our son to the many school and social activities in which he is involved. Trust me, navigating Boston traffic ranks right up there with root canal, but as a father I know enough to put my own selfish feelings aside for someone else’s needs. In the past year I have driven over 5,000 miles to his school, swimming and crew practices, violin lessons, and various social get-togethers which include snow boarding in New Hampshire, concerts in and around Boston, as well as friends’ homes for some very serious hanging out.

Of course, helping out with homework is the ever-present 800-pound gorilla in the room. On any given night I can be helping with questions on World War II history, Macbeth, or wading through an essay on the writing of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Much like cooking, and less like driving, I relish this time as I am a big fan of the learning process, and truly enjoy being cast as the substitute teacher. This is an activity in which my wife and I operate as a tag team, as she is the analytical one in our relationship and helps out in traversing math and science, while I relegate my assistance to history, English and writing.

Perhaps my favorite role, however, is that of life tour guide, where the questions and needs are not just academic, gastronomic, or geographic. What is most exciting to me, and when I feel that I really earn my father stripes, is when I help steer my son through life’s seminal moments that shape his character and who he will become as a young man. I suppose anyone can learn to cook a meal or drive a car from Point A to B, but what about those defining moments when a child has their heart broken, doesn’t make the team, or suffers some other ignominy at the hands of a peer. A parent’s instinct - rather a father’s impulse - is to protect and comfort, but I realize that more is needed. It’s not enough to wrap my manly arms around the sunken shoulders of this young man who is hurting. A father alone cannot make the pain go away—I know that from my own childhood experience. No, this is a call for equal parts strength, empathy, understanding and instruction. A time to offer tenderness and compassion through listening and instructing, and drawing close to this boy who needs you to help him find his emotional true north. I’d like to think that it’s a Dad moment.

So as we gather to honor the contributions of all mothers and bestow upon them our genuine thanks, admiration and gratitude; please set another place at the table for us fathers. No, we don’t want to steal your thunder on your special day, but we do want recognition for this newly-defined creation that has taken its cues from mothers, sisters and wives. We’ve applied what you’ve taught us and become better men and more complete fathers to our children. So, pass the string beans, please and don’t worry. We’ll set a plate for you on our special day in June.

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