Father's Day is on Sunday.
This is a holiday I dread, because it means sharing my older children with the sperm donor. And frankly, I don't want to share. And it isn't because I am a bitter ex wife, though my ex husband would tell you otherwise. It is because...
Why would I want to share my children with the guy who checked out to have a party eight and a half years ago, and still has yet to check back in and support his own kids? Um...yah.
Nobody likes a deadbeat dad.
Though he would most certainly call himself an active father. Mostly because he has "playdates" with the kids and occasionally buys them things, with other people's money. (Because he refuses to get a job)
Be aware: Buys them things like impractical clothes, hair products, or the occasional age/gender-inappropriate piece of jewelry. None of which contributes to the food going into their bellies or the light by which they read. No. We wouldn't want that. He provides the most important detail of all.... (and only recently he started doing this on a regular basis...up until a few months ago, it was more sporadic than snow in Arizona.)
He provides a detail that is (apparently) infinitely more important that rent, electricity, actual clothing that the kids can wear on a regular basis, food, medical insurance, and school expenses....
He provides.....FUN. And of course kids want to spend more time with someone who lets them stay up until 1am, gives them Mountain Dew to drink, takes them to fun restaurants, and buys them useless crap? Cripes, I would want to spend more time with someone who did that!
Throw that man a parade, he should be Dad of the Year!
Grrrrrrrrrr...
I have a different policy. I believe that being a "father" or "dad" has very little to do with biology. Who cares if the kid has your DNA? Who gets up with them at night when they're puking their guts out?
Who helps with homework?
Who says prayers with them before meals and bedtime?
Who leads them by example, and not by skewered versions of right and wrong?
Who goes to work every day to provide the aforementioned electricity, food, clothes, school supplies, etc?
Who makes them go to bed at a decent hour, because he knows they'll be completely dysfunctional the next day without a full 8 to 10 hours of sleep?
Who drives them to and from school on time?
Who explains things like sex, bullies, & choosing between right and wrong to them?
Who takes them to extra curricular activities, even if it means sitting in the car for hours at a time waiting?
Who teaches them to do things like mow the lawn, or catch a baseball?
Who knows what foods they can & will eat without having to ask?
Who provides the kids with necessary medications and supplements without fail and without mistakes?
Who helps them with Science Projects and scout accomplishments on time and without fail?
Who follows through on promises, and never lets them down?
Who came into our lives and provided for us, despite that so-called important biological connection?
It's hard for me to share. My husband understands the need to share, and does it without complaint. And though he never expresses it to me, it's got to hurt. The sperm donor gets all the glory. They come home excited because they have new toys/games/clothes, and yet it's not like they are thanking him for the roof over their head, or the medical insurance his job provides. Of course not. They're kids.
But he never complains, never acts sad or frustrated. He is a good dad that way.
It's hard for me to share. I don't like doing it. Johnny-come-lately get's entirely too much glory, if you ask me. Where was he when I worked full time for minimum wage to support them (barely). Where was he when I lost my job and had to sell blood for some money for bread and eggs? Where was he when I still invited him to school programs and holidays? All the no-shows and backing-out-at-the-last-minute added up, and now here we are....eight and a half years later.
You want a part in things (though not a big part, as you still don't have a job or remotely consistent lifestyle that would indicate the maturity to be able to care for the kids for more than a few hours, but that's neither here nor there right now.) but not a big enough part to actually put in the hours and the effort needed to rear children. Bedtimes, schedules, routines, discipline, a good adult example, and consistency....these are all foreign concepts to the sperm donor. Just different ways I am trying to control him. Not concepts that are necessary to raise two healthy, well behaved children.
*SIGH* Poor, poor sperm donor.
Grrrrrr.........Father's Day, for me, is going to be a drag. I hate it. It is a day that reminds me of an epic mistake I made in bearing children with a dude who had no intention of ever growing up, sobering up, or manning up. Do I regret my children? Good Lord, no! They are amazing, and my life would be empty without them. But do I regret my choice in sperm donors? Um...yah. Big time.
Being a Father or a Dad has very little to do with biology. It has to do with who does the work, every day, every week, every year--consistently--without fail, and who actually knows what is best for the kids, and manages to do it. Even if it isn't fun or enjoyable. Even if it takes away from his own life or plans. Even if it means setting aside his needs and focusing on theirs first and foremost. Even if it means not having as much fun, or having to settle.
He does it because he loves the kids.
Now tell me who the real "Father/Dad" is.
Yup. Exactly. It's more than just biology.
Happy Father's Day to all of the real fathers out there.
Brooke Moss.



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