Yeah. Father’s Day. The day I have to hold my hair back while I puke as I read poetic romantic tomes from all the married women in my Facebook feed as they swoon over their darling handsome husbands who also happen to be the world’s most brilliant fathers.
I have one friend who is, I think, the best example of a father there is. And I posted on his page simply to say that he is the father I wish I myself had had. He’s got a tough story but anyone else who thinks they’ve had it tough has NO idea what it’s like.
His little girl has turned out magnificent. If I could have a daughter, I want her to be exactly as beautiful and well-mannered and spirited.
I’d say I want a man like him, but he’s a Republican. 😉 And, yes, even that cancels out “gainfully and profitably employed”!
I also sent out a general Father’s Day wish: Happy Fathers Day to those who love, rear, support, live with, and nurture their progeny day to day. And to those who stepped up and did it for the useless and clueless types like my own father.
And with that, I never realized what a traditionalist I have been at heart. I have never been in what I’d call a fully functional relationship. Ergo, I’ve never had the thought cross my mind that:
A) wedding bells were a possibility, and
B) there’d ever be employees of the pint-size variety added to the merging and incorporating of assets and lives.
I realize I so vehemently hate the idea of an every-other-weekend, -week, -holiday, -summer, -year, -decade, etc. dad that I’ve never picked or stayed with a mate with deadbeat potential. Or, if there were some element of that in the baggage, then I made up my mind to not be in it for the long term.
Don’t get me wrong — I haven’t been kind to the guys I’ve dated whose kids lived with them. (Sorry R.A. I owe you so many apologies. Especially after you introduced me to them. Although you did spring them on me WAY too early. *sigh*)
In retrospect, though, while I wasn’t ready to inherit three kids without knowing how I felt about the guy, I have to give him props for taking that on with a smile. Because if I had a kid of my own, I would never want it to know that its father was *somewhere* out there … living a life that had little bearing on his.
It is a day like today that I miss my grandfather more than usual … he stepped up when he didn’t have to and loved me enough for a daddy and a grandfather. And so much more.
I know that no one gets into a relationship, and certainly not an engagement or a marriage, with a vision of it ending. And for a while, I prepared myself to be a single parent — whether the relationship never happened or whether it did and I had to take on the responsibility after someone (I admit, I figured inevitably) would hit the bricks.
But I got to thinking about it today, and I thought, why can’t I be a “see ya on the weekends” mom? I know, the “being a food source for an infant” thing would make that impossible. But beyond disgusting diapers, the “taking a shit on my freedom” thing is what I’ve always worried about most.
Not that I’m living the dream life these days, but so help me if I get that ticket to Europe, I reserve the right to take it and NEVER COME BACK. Teeny tiny squishy cute little thing can come but momma’s got to get her wine on. But it could work if I didn’t have to do it full-time.
I’m saying this *kind* of tongue-in-cheek. But if men can choose whether or not to be a father or a daddy or whatever they want to call it depending on the involvement in the kid’s life, why can’t women? (Because both can’t be a disappointment — there’s only room for one. See what not having a father did to me?)
Why would I have to be the one to work all day and feed/change/comfort/burp a munchkin all night? (Don’t you people know how easily bored I get?) Why do “fathers” get the option of either not being around, or not being around as full-time as possible?
Anyway, I was talking to a friend recently who met her dream guy, and she’s heading to the altar soon enough and is already contemplating kids. And it really made my heart hurt that I have given up on all of that. Even though another of our friends has three kids and I am quickly reminded of how AWESOME it is to be kid-free, I feel like I don’t have a choice anymore. The cards have been dealt; it doesn’t mean I have to KEEP this hand, but I don’t want to be an “old” parent either. And, oh yeah, there’s still that issue of finding the man and all!
Of course, I still want Europe. And wine. Lots of wine. And I still think I want to adopt. Of course, I will keep holding out for that intercontinental wealthy businessman who sweeps me away and takes me on a whirlwind worldwide romance. Traditional family stuff be damned. 😉
My mom was just talking to one of my grandfather’s brothers today. Even though the only one worth a damn in that family was my grandfather, Mom still tried to be nice and keep in touch with one of those bozos. And we are reminded of what idiots still walk this earth while the good ones are gone. Truly, there is NO need to perpetuate this gene pool. NONE WHATSOEVER.
I Googled my own father/source of sperm today. I can’t find him online. And that’s fine with me. Mom gave me his middle name today, and it occurred to me that I’m 37 years old and I don’t even know my father’s full name. Wow.
Mom said this is probably the one day of the year that he thinks of me. And I don’t think he does. I think he’s probably selfish and into himself and doesn’t even think of me as even existing.
And that’s OK. He can stay out there in the ether. What, would we be Facebook friends now? After a lifetime of nothing? Please. Keep it. Dating is enough of an adventure in people who aren’t around when you need them — a girl’s daddy should be there for everything. He may not be a failure as a human being, but he comes up very short in the man department. And he seems uninterested in changing that status.
I doubt he’d get on a plane and come to Florida (unless I paid for it). But I don’t know. Maybe he does miss me. Maybe he regrets being the “asshole yardstick” when it comes to everyone I meet. (He can’t NOT know that he’s set the bar pretty damn low in my life.)
My mom may drive me nuts but she was there through 100% of it, good or bad and right or wrong. Even if she impacts me in a lot of ways that aren’t so awesome right now, she’s all I have, family-wise.
Like I said, this day is for those who don’t talk or brag about it and just DO it, and for those who stepped up for those who didn’t. So, happy Father’s Day to her too. That, and thanks…