Daddy Diaries

Tristan Hatfield

A series of entries, delving into the depths of what it is like to be a Dad in today's world...sometimes a comedy, sometimes a horror show, but always entertaining!

Daddy Diaries: Friday the 23rd of May 2008

Becoming a Dad

It wasn’t the birth of my son, now three, that made me feel like I was a father. And even when my daughter, now 10 months, arrived on the scene I was still not completely convinced. Yes, I have always felt like a good parent, a man who could proudly boast that I loved my kids from the depths of my heart. I, like many of you, would do anything I could to make sure my kids had all they needed in life, and more.

Even with all the extremely late nights and the all too frequent early mornings. With my wealth of photographs and elaborate works of art displayed proudly around my office. With all the firsts, and all the moments you wish you could just press pause. I had never considered myself a dad.

It wasn’t until I sat down, just now, and stared at the soft glow of the monitor that I had ever given it a moments thought. I had always just been. Now that I have devoted my precious, kid less, time to contemplate what it is to be a dad. I want out!

Could you imagine all the freedom you would have, all the extra cash just lying around. I would want to roll it up, and smoke it, because I quite for my kids and if they weren’t here I would have continued being content with killing myself slowly with those sweet smooth intoxicating little devil sticks. But let’s not stop there. You could watch what you wanted on television and not care about the irreversible damage you maybe causing by not heeding the “suggested” viewing age warning preceding all the good shows. You wouldn’t have to listen to another second of those three guys in coloured shirts screaming at their narcoleptic purple shirted friend to “wake up”. You could go wherever and whenever you wanted without worrying about the C.A.S. and the local law enforcement agency waiting on your front porch when you return just because you left a minor at home, alone for a few days…or weeks… unattended. You could use all the profane words you wanted, heck you could even make up new ones as you would get tired of calling the cat a little *^&%$* all the time.

You would be free. Wouldn’t that be spectacular? Wouldn’t you have an added zeal for life? Wouldn’t you just want to yell it from the roof tops? You would be the freest person on the face of the planet. But, you wouldn’t be… a dad.. And those three letters, arranged in that order, mean more to me then anything I could have ever thought possible. I am overjoyed that I was given the opportunity to write this article. And I’m even more jubilant that I have finally, after years of parenting, become a dad.