A Few Guys I'd Like to thanks

by John Ettorre

In her new book about why men are such beasts, cads and scoundrels, the New York Times’ celebrated columnist Maureen Dowd makes a point of thanking everyone who ever helped her. The list of names is long, full of not just professional colleagues and family members, but seemingly everyone she ever met. There’s even an impressive number of men on the list, perhaps a nod to her reputation as being a tad hostile on the subject of testosterone’s effects on half of humanity.

In much the same spirit, though with greater brevity, I’d now like to tip my hat to the men whose examples have taught me something about how to interpret the fatherhood experience. It won’t be a long list, but I hope the quality will provide some measure of compensation. The value of having friends and of being generally well connected to the world is pretty self-explanatory. When it comes to parenthood, that dynamic is doubly important. Knowing lots of other parents and comparing experiences provides some benchmarks against which to assess your own experience.

From my friend Matt, who married late and had kids even later, I’ve learned to appreciate what relative freedom I enjoy. Now in his late 40s, and still the father of very young kids, he’ll occasionally muse aloud about the formidable math of late parenthood. "I’ll be working till I’m old," he might say, more to himself than me, noting that when the last of his kids has completed college, he’ll already be at normal retirement age. I’m left suddenly shamed by whatever self-pity I might have been marinating in just a moment before. I had kids at 30 and 32, mildly late by some standards. But at least my two boys will be off the dole well before I’m 60—or at least that’s the current projection. Believe me, guys think about this stuff.

From my friend Tom, who now lives in another state, I’ve learned to remember that money isn’t everything in family life. He presides over one of the most genuinely joyous families I’ve ever seen. Whenever I see his four kids, I marvel at their smarts and their bubbliness and their ability to comfortably mingle with adults. The entire family, parents included, just beam in each other’s presence. Granted, I miss the everyday events where their family life may not be quite so picture-perfect as it seems. But I do know that this family of relatively modest income is off the charts when it comes to their joyfulness. Which is of course what counts.

Finally, from my new friend Vince, I’ve learned to appreciate how I’ve avoided the parental equivalent of extreme sports. Only instead of hang gliding or bungee jumping, Vince engages in the high-risk behavior of staying home all day, every day with his kids. Yes, Vince is a stay-at-home dad, a mythical figure, half exalted and half feared in my fatherly circles.

But slowly getting to know Vince and listening to him talk about his life convinced me that he’s basically an ordinary guy placed in extraordinary circumstances. I appreciate Vince’s honesty. He doesn’t paint any rosy scenarios about his situation. A former college English professor and holder of a doctorate, he talks about his initial forays into this new life not unlike a veteran would speak about shell shock from combat.

It’s how he has responded to the challenge that ultimately makes him a hero for me. For one thing, he began writing about his experience, always a useful coping strategy. It’s helped him see things in a more positive light. He also took the initiative to place an ad in a PTA newsletter, asking if there were other stay-at-home dads who might like to occasionally get together in a support group. Half a dozen similarly situated men responded.

I was especially fascinated to learn about this part of his experience when we recently caught up for a weekend breakfast, scheduled early enough in the day so that I knew my teenagers would still be sleeping when I returned home, and at a time of the week when his wife was available to watch the kids. What do you guys talk about when you get together? I asked, envisioning the trading of tips about juggling childcare with house management.

He laughed. Heck no, he said, we’re mired in that kind of stuff all day long. When they get together as fellow stay-at-home dads, it’s purely about escapism and being social with the only kind of people who can really understand their situation. Vince says this group mostly likes to go out and shoot the bull with each other about general stuff, while enjoying a few beers together.

Now that’s what I call my kind of dads, with all due apologies to Ms. Dowd.

John Ettorre is a Cleveland-based writer and editor who has also worked in Washington, D.C. and Chicago. Over a 20-year career, his writing has appeared in more than 70 publications, including the New York Times. His online weblog, Working With Words, can be found at www.workingwithwords.blogspot.com. To reach John, send e-mail to: jettorre@voyager.net or leave a message at (440) 708-2994.