Working fathers

I set out in the father business like everyone else, with no training or experience. No application, no resume--just the exigencies of life.

I stole a glance at the clock for the third time in that many minutes. It was 4:45 pm. The meeting was supposed to be over by 5:00, yet it looked like it would drag on for at least another hour. "When have these management reviews ever stuck to the agenda?" I wondered. My anxiety level rose with each passing minute--not because I was next to present my product plan to the president of the company, but because my children were waiting for me to bathe them, play games, read a few books, tell them a story, and tuck them into bed.

"There's no way I can get home in time," I decided, feeling like one of those poor, wretched souls in old B-movies about hapless barbarians in ancient Rome, whose arms and legs were pulled apart by four elephants. Another glance at the clock: 5:45. Ouch! Another limb torn off.

Finally, it was my turn. Although I usually love to make in-depth presentations, this time I flew through the slides, not even looking up for fear that eye contact would invite too many time-consuming questions. Ten minutes for a product plan was a record. Early in the 11th minute, I picked up my notes and headed for the door, not even waiting for the meeting to end.

Just another typical story about the hectic, conflicted life of a parent attempting to balance the demands of family and career, right? Wrong. As a working father torn between multiple roles, I feel anything but typical. We have hardly begun to hear about such problems, and societal support for working dads ranks a big zero.

Have we forgotten that working dads are out there? Doesn't anyone think that working fathers might feel guilty about not spending enough time with their children? Doesn't anyone imagine that working fathers might be wrestling with tremendous conflicts over the dual roles of provider and nurturer? Working fathers need a voice; they also need support and encouragement. Working fathers must be allowed to be fathers.

A Role Is a Role Is a Role

Most of my male colleagues consider themselves fathers. But do they consider expanding upon their role as father? Unfortunately not. Their identities are so rooted in what they "do" that they are reluctant--if not overly challenged--to take a critical look at who they are.

"Why are you trying to be a mother to your kids?" they ask. Why? Well, I'd like to let my fellow working fathers in on a very well-kept secret: the most fulfilling role you can ever have is as an active, involved parent. It's not quite the same as landing a big account, or winning a controversial case, or exceeding the annual sales forecast. And the feelings it generates are not the same as those you get while perfecting you backhand or getting your swing just right on the golf course. Spending time with your children, being active in their daily lives, is the most gratifying work a man can do. Being an active father, which may translate into less time at the office or on the courts, is not a form of self-sacrifice or deprivation--it's a form of fulfillment.

I set out in the father business like everyone else, with no training or experience. No application, no resume--just the exigencies of life. My involvement began out of necessity when my daughter Rachel was born seven years ago, because I knew more about taking care of babies than my wife Nancie did. Dropping out of college for a year, I had tended to the needs of six to eight infants and toddlers with disabilities, taking responsibility for their bathing, feeding, dressing, and physical therapy. Take care of one infant? A breeze!

So I was the parent who got to change Rachel's diapers, and I was the parent who got to bathe her every night for a year. Fortunately for Rachel, I took no extended business trips that year. And fortunately for me, the time and attention gave way to a deep emotional involvement. Certainly, any father who experiments in active parenting would just plain feel good about it and fully enjoy it.

Low-Cost Involvement Insurance

How can stressed-out, busy fathers find time to be involved? My job at a Fortune 200 company is typically managerial. While extremely stressful, demanding, and time consuming, it is equally rewarding. In addition, it keeps the kids clothed, fed, and sheltered. I also run, ski (something I learned last winter), and do a lot of reading. And I spend a lot of time with my three children--seven-year-old Rachel, four-year-old Jonathan, and 11-month-old Ethan.

To me, being an involved father means being a central part of their lives every day. So I do little things, like leave a note for Jonathan in the morning if I go to the office before he gets up, or phone each child to stay in touch with the day's major events. Ethan's cough is getting better; Jonathan had pasta and peas for lunch; Rachel had music at school.

I do big things, too, entering into the many settings of their lives. I schedule meetings so that I can drive Jonathan to school. As a result, I know the teachers and have seen the famous playground he talks about at night. Once in a while, I leave the office during the day to take the children to a skating lesson or to spend some time with them at home. I was the only father at an afternoon "Parents" Day at Rachel's school. Another day, I attended an afternoon "Parents" Conference, during which her teacher made repeated remarks about "how nice it is to have a father come." "She's my daughter too," I replied.

At the end of the workday, I'm the first to leave the office. Not working late, macho hours is not always easy. Leaving when the other fathers are still doing battle in the business coliseum can take the emotional strength of a Hercules. For me, though, there just isn't a lot of time between the 7:06 train and the 8:00 yawns. And guilt about leaving my fellow Romans at the office evaporates as soon as I get home. We do baths with zest, play Blackjack or Old Maid, and read all kinds of books. Sometimes, we make a batch of pretzels, or go for a walk.

I try to balance my time and attention between all three children. Jonathan, at four, likes to talk about his day and ask what I did at the office. After he gets in bed, I read him a story. Then he "remembers being little" and relates different adventures, vacations, and events from his younger days. Soon, he's fast asleep.

That's when I turn my attention to Rachel. At seven, she loves to read and be read to. We talk about her day, what she did at school, and what she's thinking about. It's more than idle chatter--it's creative problem solving. Last year, for example, she had difficulty adjusting to a new class and a new teacher. Every night for two weeks, we'd discuss her feelings and experiences, and devise a plan to help her through the rough spots. In time, she began to report that school "wasn't so bad today." Within a month, Rachel was enjoying school once again.

Ethan, at 11 months of age, is the last one off at night. That's great, because it allows me time to play a song or two for him. He loves music. Will he be the rock-and-roll musician I always wanted to be? Well, probably not, but you should see the look on his face when I take out the guitar. In addition, we do lots of holding and talking. Most of his time, however, is spent with Nancie, who is now great with babies and a terrific mother to all three children.

Weekends are for the family too. The grass often goes uncut so that we can hike at the local park. We do the food shopping and run other errands as a fivesome. We also plan vacations en masse, which is probably why they end up being delightful--for each member of the family.

On Mastering Two Roles with Limbs Intact

How to succeed on the job and at home? Here's what I do to fend off those elephants that like to tear apart working fathers. The first elephant is business travel. I always ask if there are alternatives to the trip: placing conference calls, faxing key documents, or sending an associate to do the data gathering.

The second elephant pulls you away from events at home and at school. To stop this creature in its tracks, I take vacation days, or even half-days, just to be with the children and share in their everyday experiences. I also work at home occasionally, taking regular breaks to be with the children.

The third elephant lives at the Coliseum but reigns over the time constraints in all parts of your life--especially over the time you need to yourself, or to work around the house. To keep this beast at bay, I include the children in shopping excursions, car washing, and yes, Saturday visits to the office. As for personal time, I schedule it in when the kids are asleep or otherwise unavailable. For instance, I run or read in the evenings while the children are in bed.

The last, and sometimes most powerful, elephant is a late meeting or extended workday. The men at my office are not expected to have to rush home to cook dinner, pick up the children, or simply follow a yearning to be with the family. Consequently, my colleagues require constant reminders to realize that I have a family and that my family comes first.

This lack of awareness is not pervasive, however. My last three bosses, including one with stereotypical views, allowed me to work flexible hours. Why? Because these managers knew my job performance would excel if I could meet my family's needs. So I was granted flexibility, and they were given results. To their initial surprise, they learned that an involved father can be just as strong a team player as the guy who turns off the lights on his way out the door. Much to my own surprise, I found that support for my role as a father builds company loyalty and increased dedication to my job.

To my male colleagues who are wondering what the "bottom line" is, it's this: the return on your investment is phenomenal. Not only are the children happy and well adjusted, but the marriage thrives. My children are confident and loving. My wife has a partner with whom she can share her most important moments. The greatest reward, however, is mine. At night, Jonathan says, "I want Daddy to put me to sleep." Ethan's laughter and wide-eyed delight when he sees me coming toward him affirm the joy of my own existence. Rachel confides in me, offers unconditional support, and is an ongoing source of encouragement. (This article was written at her suggestion.)

In many ways, it would be easier to be less involved. I do not like the elephants tearing me apart when meetings run late, or when I board a plane to a business meeting. I've learned, though, that fathering is not a spectator sport. You have to get out on the field and play every day to fully experience the joys of this game. So join in--you're already on the team.

COPYRIGHT 1993 Mothering Magazine
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group