As you may remember, my son absolutely loves “sea treatures,” particularly sharks. In addition to an extensive collection of shark toys, he’s amassed quite a library of shark books, which he’s dutifully studied for months, resulting in a wealth of knowledge that continues to surprise my wife and me daily.
While reading him books before bed recently, we’ve noticed that he’s become quite the expert, which has prompted my wife to continually remind me:
“We NEED to get this on tape.”
As I’ve found over and over again, moments like these are fleeting, and while it seems like an everyday thing now, he could very well become obsessed with something else tomorrow and the Son Shark Show would be abruptly and tragically canceled. And so with this in mind, I sat down with him the other night, phone in hand, to document his aquatic expertise once and for all.
Here, for your viewing pleasure, is my son naming all of the sharks (and a few other treatures) in one of his very favorite books, Amazing Sharks and Sea Creatures, while his persistent daddy tries to keep him focused.
Someone Who Shall Remain Nameless: So are you still being Mr. Mom?
Me: You know, the term “Dad” works just fine.
Sure, I could have just let it go. I could have replied, “Yes, I am still being Mr. Mom.” thus avoiding the awkward pause that ensued. Don’t take it personally, I used to tell myself. It’s just a (tired, lame, unfunny) joke. But this terminology is pinned on me often and I have recently decided I am done with just letting it go.
It’s not that I feel emasculated wrangling the Twins all week. I challenge any “man’s man” who thinks stay-at-home parenting is for sissies to actually try it for one day. (In fact, I imagine it could make for a thoroughly entertaining reality show, with each episode culminating in a grown man sobbing.) It’s definitely not easy, but at the same time it’s also the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done. Many fathers would jump at the opportunity to spend as much time with their children as I do, especially at this age. I blinked when they were eight months old and was suddenly thrown into a DeLorean which promptly accelerated to 88 miles per hour, traversing space and time to today, as I open my eyes and find them eleven months old. Until I can get the Flux Capacitor to flux again, I make an effort each day to take it all in (and document it in HD) because I know how fleeting babyhood is.