On the one hand, it’s not so big a deal that I didn’t kill Charlie over the course of four days. A dad should probably be able to accomplish that. On the other, I was worried about this weekend. With Mama away, celebrating her 30th year on the planet, I girded my psyche (and sleep schedule) for battle.
A brief aside: The terms “Father-Son Bonding” and “Quality Time” have always rung false to me. Of course we need such terms, but those seem cutesy and invented. The people and contexts I associate them with are very “Dr. Phil.”
Frankly, I just wanted to get through a mom-less four days with no major meltdowns. Catastrophe-free was my mantra, What Would Mom Do? my guiding principle. And I’m prepared to say it was a success. I made 3 meals a day and convinced him to eat. I changed all the diapers and picked all the outfits. I got up with him every morning and put him to bed each night. Go me! Self Reliance +2, Acceptable Human +1, Save v. Child-Rearing +1.
That said, life was a lot different. Possibly as different as the change pre- to post-baby. I definitely wouldn’t want to have to do that forever, and I’m incredibly grateful I have Jessica in my life to help shoulder the burden.
So I needn’t have worried. But then, maybe the only reason not to worry was that fact that I was worrying. In other words, if I were someone who wasn’t worried I would probably have done a bad job (both that weekend, and in general). I wasn’t trying to engineer a great time, but we ended up having one anyway. Bike rides, the beach, the U.S. Open Sandcastle competition, for goodness sake. I guess if the time we had was “Quality” and if our father-son bond was strengthened, so much the better.
Save v. Ed Hardy-Wearing Teen +2.