Posts Tagged ‘ papa ’

New Pew Survey Shows Dads As The Moral Teacher

Sunday, June 16th, 2013

2 years, 7 months.

Dear Jack,

According to the new Pew Research Center survey, Americans expect dads to be more of a moral teacher and emotional comforter than a breadwinner or disciplinarian.

The way I look at it, whether a dad chooses to be or not, he often is by default the moral teacher and emotional comforter, for better or worse.

That’s not to say that the mom’s role in teaching her children values and morals is simply marginal, but I do find it interesting that in a time where the media still makes dad out to be a horrible role model or at least a lovable idiot, see “ABC 20/20′s D Is For Dad And Dumb” Segment which aired just in time for Father’s Day, this new poll shows that dads are expected to be the moral teacher more than the disciplinarian or the greater income provider.

So why is it that if dads seen as the moral teacher, that they are still often portrayed as dummies in the media? I’d say it’s because there’s a disconnect between what TV writers think America wants to see and want America actually thinks about their dads.

I base “what America actually thinks” on what I’m seeing as Facebook status updates today for Father’s Day. I see Facebook consumed with pictures of everyone’s dad, with a caption bragging about how incredible,  supportive, and even how “perfect” their dads were while growing up.

Therefore, I find nothing surprising, only assuring and confirming, about the results of the new Pew Research Center survey.

In fact, I’ve already written about my desire to morally teach you. See “Dads Like To Teach Their Kids Life Lessons.”

I take great pride in the fact that I have the honor of instilling values and morals in you. Because hey, it sure beats what the media would like for you to believe; they evidently still think I’m simply a lovable idiot.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Graph: Pew Research Center.

 

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My Son Renamed My Dad As “Papa”

Wednesday, April 18th, 2012

17 months.

Gone are the days when grandparents are cool with being called Grandma and Grandpa. That’s like calling your administrative assistant a secretary. After all, this is the age of hipster toddlers.

It’s common knowledge that any grandmother going by the name of Nana or Nonna is going to be the hippest on the block. As for grandfathers, my own dad chose to be called “Pappy.”

He has been “Pappy” for Jack’s entire life… until Easter weekend. That was the first time since Jack started talking that he saw his Pappy.

When he saw my dad, he immediately called for him, saying “Papa, Papa,” reaching out his arms to be held. In fact, Jack called him “Papa” the whole weekend.

So I guess that’s it. Jack has a Nonna and a Papa. Not a Nonna and a Pappy.

Since Jack is the oldest grandchild of my parents, Papa is probably the name that is going to stick.

I think that’s a really cool name for the modern grandfather. As a child of the Eighties, I associate the word with Papa Smurf. Being that my dad has a goatee, it fits him.

It’s as if Jack said, “So listen, I totally respect the whole ‘Pappy” thing; how you wanted to be called that and all. But you see, you’re gonna be Papa instead.”

I’m pretty sure my dad doesn’t mind.

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The Papa Bear in Me: Yes, I’m Overprotective

Friday, July 1st, 2011

Seven months.

It’s a big, dangerous world out there and it’s my job to keep this little bambino safe.  But I must channel my fears into positive, rational energy.

There is plenty of truth in the stereotype that parents are over-protective with their first child. I know, because I’m living it right now. Subconsciously, I preview every potentially dangerous situation for Jack; no matter how improbable.

I am Jack’s protector- I can not let anything bad happen to him. Like Bruce Banner (the Incredible Hulk), I can instantly turn into the biggest beast of a monster in an effort to protect him. So while I am an average-looking, mild-mannered man, all it takes is Jack being in potential danger for me to transform into a potential killing machine.

But what is most relevant is that I prepare for Jack’s safety in every situation. So that I never have to rescue or save him. Being over-protective means preventing dangerous situations; not just worrying about them happening all the time.

For my 10th birthday on April 20th, 1991, my parents bought me exactly what I wanted the most: Bible Adventures, the Nintendo game. (Yes, it actually existed!) The game was modeled after my favorite video game ever, Super Mario Bros. 2, in that you could carry items above your head and throw them at enemies.

The most interesting (and disturbing!) thing in Bible Adventures was that if you played as Moses’ sister Miriam, you held baby Moses over your head and for some unexplainable reason, if you pressed the B button, you would throw the infant Moses onto the ground…

Miraculously, he would never be injured; whether you tossed him onto the hard concrete sidewalk, on top of a giant mutant spider, directly into a guard throwing spears, or into the river. But I was a 10 year-old boy, so I didn’t let the physical practicality or the Biblical incorrectness of the game bother me too much. But I did have a lot of fun repeatedly throwing baby Moses onto the sidewalk and watching him bounce, cry for a second, then instantly start smiling again. Needless to say, Bible Adventures did not receive the Nintendo Seal of Approval.

Since the day Jack was born, I have always been fearful that I will drop him; knowing that unlike the invincible Nintendo version of baby Moses, my son would not simply bounce and smile afterwards. So now that he is beginning to crawl, it means I carry him around less. Which means I worry less about dropping him, and more about him getting into all kinds of other troubles.

With good reason, I worry about him drowning, being run over by a car, getting electrocuted, choking, falling, getting attacked by a dog, or maybe even getting swooped up by a long-lost pterodactyl. It even scares me to type my fears aloud, even if the last one was a joke.

I am the Papa Bear. I will do whatever it takes to protect Mama Bear and Baby Bear. Don’t make me angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.

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Proud Papa

Thursday, June 24th, 2010

Twenty weeks.

*Did you hear about this blog from American Baby magazine?  If so, click here to get to the main page (table of contents) for “dad from day one”.  There’s a whole lot more where this come from…

During the closing credits of my favorite movie of all time, I Love You, Man, Barry (Jon Favreau) finds out his wife Denise (Jamie Pressly) is pregnant after she vomits on him at the wedding reception.  With puke on his shirt, he says to her, “Please, try to make it a boy.”  Barry is a Type A jerk, inhabiting every memory and idea of a typical beer-guzzling frat boy.  So of course, having a boy (instead of a girl) would be very important to him.

Being that I’m nothing like that character in the movie, instead being much more like the main character, Peter Klaven (Paul Rudd), I had just always assumed I would have all daughters.  Here’s the picture I had in my head of my future family: Me, wifey, three daughters, and two Cockapoos (or Labradoodles).

It just makes more sense that a guy who has no interest (or talent whatsoever) in sports or hunting (or anything proving I’m man enough by showing my “game face”), but instead has always been enthralled in everything artistic (drawing, entertaining, acting, singing, songwriting, writing) would somehow automatically make a better father to daughters instead of sons.  So that’s part of the reason I was so authentically surprised to learn that our baby is a boy.  Like somehow I deserved a son less because I’m not a certain macho stereotype I’ve memorized from three decades of watching sitcoms and movies.

And now, I have to admit, there’s a part of me that can’t help but laugh that without any preconceived hopes or crossed fingers, I get what every man secretly hopes for- a son.  There’s an unspoken concept (at least in my mind) that raising a son is a rite of passage for a man.  A coveted elective course, a special honorary badge, an engraved trophy so easily received- to be a father to a son.  A chance not so much to relive my own life, but to enhance another future man with all the life experience and knowledge I’ve learned the hard way.

The movie I Love You, Man is built around the fact that male friendships and bonds don’t often come so easily.  By a man having a son, he is automatically given that opportunity- to nurture a male the way every boy and man craves to be taught and directed.  What I lack in knowledge of fixing cars and football statistics and home repairs, I can make up for in teaching healthy communication skills and anything that falls under that categories of “literary”, “artistic”, “psychological”, and “entertainment”.

In other words, I have a feeling I will be raising  the likeness of a future Jewish comedic actor, maybe the next Joseph Gordon-Levitt, the next Shia LaBeouf, the next James Franco…

A well-rounded people-person who is confident in who he is, that’s who I predict he will become.  Who knows?  Maybe he’ll be a quiet, mild-mannered, studious, future accountant.  But with a dad as quirky and Hawaiian-shirt-wearing as me, I just don’t think he has a chance of being anything like Clark Kent.

Baby Jack's body is the length of a cantaloupe this week.

Here’s what The Bump says about Week 20:

Baby’s digestive system is busy creating meconium (a tarry black substance made of swallowed amniotic fluid, digestive secretion and dead cells), which will fill the first diaper after birth. And, speaking of the diaper situation… baby’s genitals are now fully formed!

To return to the “dad from day one” main page, click here.

All pictures with the “JHP” logo were taken by Joe Hendricks Photography:

Blog- www.photojoeblog.com

Website- www.joehendricks.com

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