Surviving Narcissismby Jesse Blayne

I have learned how to throw a spiral.  I ski even on the days when it’s too damn cold, and I’d rather be sitting by the fire reading a good book.  I routinely embarrass myself on the golf course.  I know the difference between an olie, a tic-tac, a fakie, a nosegrind and a kickflip.  (Those are skateboarding terms, by the way.)  I even remember to laugh at their burp competitions.  I also let them spit sunflower seed shells at each other - until I can’t stand it any more.

I remind her every day that she’s beautiful, and strong, and smart.

I watch hours of skateboarding DVDs, listen to volumes of data on the intricacies of different players’ golf swings, and even help build snowboard jumps off our front step.

I let her know that what she has to say is just as important as what anyone else has to say.

I shoot hoops and play h.o.r.s.e.  Although sometimes I’ve been known to forget and call it h.o.u.s.e.

I carry her to bed some nights, even though she’s getting too heavy for me.  But a strong daddy would carry his little girl to bed.

I try not to watch when he rides his bike ‘no hands’.

I put worms on hooks when I’d rather not.  I let him mow the lawn even though I worry that he’ll get hurt.  I try not to baby him in front of others, and I try to treat her like a princess without letting it go to her head.

Once in awhile, when no one is looking, I’ll let them take turns sitting in the passenger seat, and practice shifting gears

I try not to tell him to ‘knock it off’ when he drinks out of the milk carton, even though I hate that.  I let them both squirt the whipping cream straight into their mouths.  Ick.

I am trying my best.

Today I will look in the mirror and say, “Happy Father’s Day,” to myself.

To all the fathering mothers and the fathering fathers, thank you for all the good work you do.