THE NEWBIE DAD - MARCH 2008

A Small Case of Mommy Envy

I was lying in bed, wide-eyed and worried at three o’clock in the morning. It was a few days before our first child was born — back in 2004 — and an urgent and pretty huge question suddenly popped into my head. What kind of father would I be?

After thinking about it for a long time, I came to a conclusion. I would try to model myself after the great dads in my life. I’d be dependable and always offer great advice, just like my own father. And I’d be funny and beam with pride over my kids, just like my father-in-law. And I’d have great hair like my older brother. Seriously, not a strand out of place; dark with a fleck of distinguished gray. Both a handsome and commanding look.

It wasn’t a bad strategy for a newbie to come up with. Although I have my off days and my hairline is retreating like an outnumbered army, I’d like to think I’m generally a dependable, funny dad. But more than three years later, I’m also a bit wiser. What I realize now is this little gem: asking “What kind of father would I be?” wasn’t exactly the right question. I should have asked myself, “What kind of parent would I be?” And I should have looked at the moms in my life — my mom, my mother-in-law and my wife — for a little inspiration, too.

As a stay-at-home dad, I can shout it loud and clear: there is something undeniable about the innate, profound love a child has for his mother. And I must admit it makes me a tad envious — in an admiring-envious, not weird-envious kind of way, of course. I’m not saying kids love their moms more than they love their dads, but I do think children sense a natural difference between parents. And there is just something special about mom.

I see this all the time. Although I’m at home during the day tending to our two boys’ domestic needs — feeding and diapering and every thing else — their little brains still revolve around mommy. It’s appropriate, I think, that both our children uttered “Momma” as their first word. When our older son stubs his toe or falls down, he instinctively screams for “Mommy!” even though he knows that she is at work. And when the kids are exhausted, it’s mommy who they prefer to snuggle up with, curling into her lap for the most secure, peaceful hour of sleep they can imagine.

In our society, we spend so much time talking about how women should be more like men. In order to get ahead in the workplace, for instance, women must take on traditional male traits — they have to be less emotional, sterner, and more focused on the bottom line. To even be considered for a presidential run, Hillary Clinton had to prove that she was tough enough for the job. In other words, she had to prove she was as tough as any man.

What if we started looking at things in reverse? What if we looked at the powerful traits traditionally associated with women and how men could benefit from things like being more caring and more in tune with the needs of others? Who knows, the answer may be worth looking into.

So, that’s why I’m going back and slightly modifying my fatherhood model. I certainly understand that dads and moms are distinct and that I can’t just generate that special something that moms have. But, I also think that dads can venture past our society’s limiting stereotypes and strive to be something more. I think I’ll strive to be a constant source of encouragement for my kids, just like my own mother. And I’ll try to be a great listener and someone who is attentive to my children’s needs, like my mother-in-law. And I’ll try to be a beacon of joy and love — like my wife. I’ll try.


Brian Kantz



		© 2008 Brian Kantz • All rights reserved • Contact Brian

	THE NEWBIE DAD - MARCH 2008 A Small Case of Mommy Envy I was lying in bed, wide-eyed and worried at three o’clock in the morning. It was a few days before our first child was born — back in 2004 — and an urgent and pretty huge question suddenly popped into my head. What kind of father would I be? After thinking about it for a long time, I came to a conclusion. I would try to model myself after the great dads in my life. I’d be dependable and always offer great advice, just like my own father. And I’d be funny and beam with pride over my kids, just like my father-in-law. And I’d have great hair like my older brother. Seriously, not a strand out of place; dark with a fleck of distinguished gray. Both a handsome and commanding look. It wasn’t a bad strategy for a newbie to come up with. Although I have my off days and my hairline is retreating like an outnumbered army, I’d like to think I’m generally a dependable, funny dad. But more than three years later, I’m also a bit wiser. What I realize now is this little gem: asking “What kind of father would I be?” wasn’t exactly the right question. I should have asked myself, “What kind of parent would I be?” And I should have looked at the moms in my life — my mom, my mother-in-law and my wife — for a little inspiration, too. As a stay-at-home dad, I can shout it loud and clear: there is something undeniable about the innate, profound love a child has for his mother. And I must admit it makes me a tad envious — in an admiring-envious, not weird-envious kind of way, of course. I’m not saying kids love their moms more than they love their dads, but I do think children sense a natural difference between parents. And there is just something special about mom. I see this all the time. Although I’m at home during the day tending to our two boys’ domestic needs — feeding and diapering and every thing else — their little brains still revolve around mommy. It’s appropriate, I think, that both our children uttered “Momma” as their first word. When our older son stubs his toe or falls down, he instinctively screams for “Mommy!” even though he knows that she is at work. And when the kids are exhausted, it’s mommy who they prefer to snuggle up with, curling into her lap for the most secure, peaceful hour of sleep they can imagine. In our society, we spend so much time talking about how women should be more like men. In order to get ahead in the workplace, for instance, women must take on traditional male traits — they have to be less emotional, sterner, and more focused on the bottom line. To even be considered for a presidential run, Hillary Clinton had to prove that she was tough enough for the job. In other words, she had to prove she was as tough as any man. What if we started looking at things in reverse? What if we looked at the powerful traits traditionally associated with women and how men could benefit from things like being more caring and more in tune with the needs of others? Who knows, the answer may be worth looking into. So, that’s why I’m going back and slightly modifying my fatherhood model. I certainly understand that dads and moms are distinct and that I can’t just generate that special something that moms have. But, I also think that dads can venture past our society’s limiting stereotypes and strive to be something more. I think I’ll strive to be a constant source of encouragement for my kids, just like my own mother. And I’ll try to be a great listener and someone who is attentive to my children’s needs, like my mother-in-law. And I’ll try to be a beacon of joy and love — like my wife. I’ll try.