Guest Post - Sci-Fi Dad

Sometimes (originally, I was going to open with the word "often", but after perusing my archives in an attempt to quantify this fact I concluded that "sometimes" was more accurate) when I write about the time I spend with my daughter (such as our daddy-daughter dates or just playing with her toys), I get an email or a comment with a similar sentiment: that my actions now are establishing her expectations for other men in her life, or that I am teaching her what to look for in a man.

I fear that you give me far too much credit, dear reader, if you believe that. In all honesty, nothing could be further from the truth. I have no intention of defining what she should expect from men when she is older; I cannot even fathom her being older, let alone having any expectations of men. I appreciate the compliments - please don't misunderstand me and think otherwise - but you are praising me for something I had no intentions of doing.

The truth is that the motivation for that aspect of my parenting is far more basic. By the time I was eight or nine, both my father worked and my mother worked. When they weren't working, they were often out drinking (Dad) or sleeping (Mom). As a kid, I have many memories of wanting some of my parent's time but never actually getting it (or feeling like I didn't get enough). Combine that with what was, at best, a tenuous relationship with my father, and it is pretty clear where this explanation is headed.

I have long maintained that one's parenting style is based on how they were parented themselves. This is yet another example to prove my theory. I don't want my daughter to grow up feeling like she didn't get enough of my time. I want her to remember that I took the time for just the two of us to go out, that we played with toys she wanted to play with, that she felt like she and her happiness were important to me. I don't want her growing up knowing I love her; I want her to grow up feeling that I love her.

It will be the same with my son. I will take him out (admittedly I will not call them "dates") and I will play with whatever toys he wants to play with too (hopefully it's trucks and Lego; playing with dolls will be OK too, but I'd like a little break from the pink and the girly that his sister favours sometimes). I will not do it because I want to establish expectations for his future, I will do it for the same reasons I do it for my daughter: because they are my kids, and I love them.