Tag: Being a Parent

To those men who defy the ‘father’ stereotype

To those men who defy the ‘father’ stereotype

I still believe that I am right. Okay, so granted that as an Aquarian, that is my default position… But I’m sure a lot of you intelligent people out there (yes, you) will agree with me on this one:

A while ago I got into a debate argument with a colleague about the roles of mothers and fathers. I was adamant that men can be as nurturing as women; that being a nurturing parent comes just as naturally to men as it does to women. I was up against the view that nurturing only comes naturally to women (expressed with some man-hating vehemence, I might add). I was – and am still – right. Obviously.

My brother and I are lucky enough to have been raised by two loving parents, both of whom were nurturing. Our dad was a hands-on, involved dad. Nappies, burping, rocking to sleep, etc. He did it all. And my husband is just as involved in the raising and nurturing of our little man.

There is a lot to be said for the way in which fatherhood is now perceived by society in general. Just yesterday I was chatting with a longtime friend about family life and she was relating how the men in her family, be they dads or uncles, play just as an important role in the daily lives of their kids. In fact, a lot of women relate these kinds of stories about their husbands and partners. The idea that fathers are there to provide financial support, discipline, and physical protection to the exclusion of all other aspects of parenting is just ludicrous.

So do I believe in ‘maternal instinct’? Absolutely. In fact, I was quite overwhelmed by the way in which it instantly kicked into gear after the birth of our son. But I also think that dads can have an incredible bond with their kids, and experience an instinctive nurturing and care for their little ones.

In some ways, I think that it’s more about personality than it is about gender. There are lots of women who choose to not have a family, and it’s hardly fair to say that that is ‘unnatural’. If you’re not the maternal type (whatever that is), that’s perfectly acceptable. In the same way, we should accept – and embrace – the idea of nurturing dads who defy those outdated gender stereotypes and shower their kids with love and affection.

So Happy Father’s Day to all the great dads out there! And let’s not forget those who have lost their dads, dads who have lost their children, and those men who are still yearning to become dads.

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Parenting, anxiety, and smudged nail polish

Parenting, anxiety, and smudged nail polish

It happened. There’s no going back. There are certain moments and events that change your life. Irretrievably.

No matter what happens from now on, I have been forever changed.

Exactly five weeks ago I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. We’re parents. To be honest, it’s still a surreal experience for me. I still catch myself staring at my son in a state of disbelief. In a good way. A great way.

They say that nothing can prepare you for parenthood. And yet, we still attend antenatal classes, download the apps, follow the blogs, etc. Does it prepare you? I think that selecting the correct classes etc for you can help to prepare you to a certain extent.

The thing that best prepared me for being a mommy? My journey through depression.

And no, I’m not talking about postnatal depression here: on the contrary, I have found the first five weeks of motherhood to be incredibly fulfilling.

So just how on earth did the most trying and devastatingly dark periods of my life prepare me for the most overwhelmingly poignant experience?

Ironically, my journey through depression (“through” implying that you can in fact reach the surface and gasp the fresh air) has taught me many invaluable lessons. Not only have I gained insight into my own psyche, for want of a better word, but I have also come to understand what kind of life I want to lead, and the best mindset and approach to realise this.

The goal-oriented, perfectionist, compulsive nature of my anxiety just doesn’t wash with the daily reality of being a mom. I sat down last week to write a blog post. I got as far as switching on my laptop. That’s it; no further. There is nothing perfect about parenthood. Nothing. I decorated the nursery exactly as I had imagined: a perfect replica of my vision. Two days ago I found myself moving furniture into the centre of the room so that I could wash off projectile pee from a large section of wall and nearby furniture. As for being compulsive, it’s simply not an option. Especially when you have a newborn who has a finely tuned sixth sense that wakens him as soon you step into the shower, pour a cup of tea, or apply a fresh coat of nail polish.

My resultant level of anxiety? Nada. Why?

Before becoming a parent I decided that I would try to be as mindful as possible. I decided that I would not set goals. That I would not entertain ideas about being a supermom. That I would adapt my days to my child’s routine to the best of my ability. That I would not read a single pregnancy or parenting magazine. That I would take each day as it came. That I would trust Mother Nature to give me sufficient maternal instinct to ‘wing it’ for the most part.

So far, I’m managing. Of course, it’s only been five weeks. I might be singing a very different tune next week. Or at three o’clock tomorrow morning. Regardless, my point is that depression and anxiety have provided me with countless opportunities for growth. Sure, I did not grasp all those opportunities. But I did take advantage of some.

It is this ongoing process of reflection and growth that I hope will stand me in good stead in this new stage of my life – smudged nail polish, tepid cups of tea, and all.

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