I’ve been thinking about fatherhood lately. Mainly because we are going to have our first baby in 170 days.1
I know. Wild.
Naturally, as a self-proclaimed expert on self-awareness,2 this has led to unparalleled introspection. That means thinking about the person I am today in comparison to the father I hope to be a few short months from now.
I’ve also thought a lot about my dad and the way he raised me3 and the things he did (and still does) that I hope to emulate.
Things like coaching my baseball team, driving me to school,4 taking me to Chick-fil-a for weekly breakfasts,5 helping me decide where to go to college, being patient with me when I couldn’t find a job I liked, answering the phone whenever I called to complain about the jobs I didn’t like, driving me to triathlons even though I didn’t even ask him to, officiating my wedding,6 listening when I give advice on how he should raise my siblings,7 helping me make mom laugh, and…
So much more. That’s just some of what I’ve seen and experienced.
Which makes me wonder about all the things he’s done that I haven’t seen—the hidden habits, the daily rituals, the silent practices. What are the things that go into being a great dad?
I know what the outcome looks like. I’ve seen it in my own life. But how do you make it happen? How do you become the dad you want to be?
That’s what I’m asking right now. That’s what I’m thinking about. I’ve barely scratched the surface, but in my reading, thinking, and conversations with other dads, I’ve found that most dad advice falls into three buckets.8
Priorities - Not just knowing what’s important, but communicating your priorities to others in a way that makes them look at your actions and say, “Oh, it makes sense that he would behave that way. That’s how he has chosen to live. He told me so himself.”
Pace - I’m only beginning to understand what the word margin means,9 but measuring the speed at which I’m capable of moving and trying to create a life that consistently stays below that speed is much easier said than done.
Peace - Theoretically, this follows the first two. If I’m operating at a speed I can handle and staying in line with what I say is important, everything is…simpler.10 Right?
My dad has these things in order. I have 170 days to cultivate them in my own life. Stay tuned and I’ll let you know how it goes. But in the meantime, I have a parting questionnaire.
What is something your dad did that you’re grateful for today? Whether when you were a kid or later as an adult. Hit reply and let me know.
Thanks for reading this far.
- jd
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What I’m Writing
I’ve been peppering LinkedIn with mini-essays as a part of my goal to write 100 words a day. Spoiler alert: I haven’t written 100 words every day. The most recent post addresses just that actually…
I love the process of discipline. I love setting goals, pursuing them for a week or two, then failing to fully ingrain the habit and having to start all over. Seriously.
What values does your culture assume? When I look at the city I live in and the people who surround me, these are a few things our lives (and sometimes our words) say are important…
There's something unnatural about humans' ability to fly. Which may explain why we call it "taking flight." It's like we've snatched something that doesn't belong to us.
There is a pair of bald eagles nesting at White Rock Lake right now. Nick and Nora. I've altered my commute to drive by their nest every morning. And it has been a treat.
What I’m Drinking
Blue Gatorade Zero. I used to be a yellow Gatorade guy, but my pallet is growing and changing and dare I say, maturing. Also, drinking a Gatorade without having exercised at all feels downright rebellious and I will continue to do so shamelessly.
My question here is the same: What is something your dad did that you’re grateful for today? This is a great time to brag on your fathers. Let me know. Help me be a better dad. Give my unborn child a gift.
Also, how do we feel about footnotes? Too much? Not enough? We get it, you like David Foster Wallace why don’t you come up with something original for once? Any of those answers would suffice.
Unless the baby comes 7 days early in which case he/she will arrive on my 30th birthday. The confluence of those two life events would result in an emotional experience I can’t even begin to comprehend or prepare for.
You can read about that here and here, but I’d also like to point out that I didn’t jump straight to navel-gazing upon our receipt of a positive pregnancy test. I’ve picked up food for Abby from restaurants I’m too ashamed to even put in writing (Boston Market) and taken care of her as best I could, but don’t worry, she feels much better now and trimester two has felt much smoother and much less pukey.
And six others (shoutout Maggie, Chuck, Luke, Josh, Drew, Sam).
Remember the school bus game?
They used to have cinnamon rolls!
And crying immediately when the ceremony started.
The patience displayed while listening to my borderline incompetent and completely unsolicited advice is truly remarkable.
Can I get some love from my Southern Baptist friends who appreciate an alliterative tricolon?
My working definition - the difference between my full capacity and my current responsibilities. Said more simply, breathing room.
As simple as dropping the “the.”