Several months ago, I sat in a pub with a good friend of mine who had just found out his wife was pregnant. We hoisted pints of Guinness and ate vinegar-soaked chips covered with salt. Ah, the reckless abandon of celebration.
“I can’t believe I’m going to be a father! I’m equal parts terrified and excited.” He said.
“That sounds about right,” I said. “How’s Jennifer doing?”
“She’s great. We’ve wanted this for a long time.”
“I’m really happy for you. You’re going to be a great father.”
Someone put Cream’s “Badge” on the jukebox. We ordered two more pints.
“You’ve been doing this for a few years,” he said, “and you seem like a pretty good father –”
“Stepfather,” I corrected him.
“Whatever. You’re a father-figure.”
“I’m more like a backup quarterback who can get pulled from the game at any time, but go ahead.”
“If you could only give one bit of advice to me, what would it be? What’s the most important thing?”
Now it was my turn to take a long drink. And then another.
“Forty-two,” I said, and we both laughed.
“I don’t know, man. there are so many things . . . I guess you shouldn’t be afraid to make some mistakes, and ask other parents for advice . . .”
I trailed off, and thought for a second, about all the other parents I’ve been around since Ryan and Nolan came into my life.
“Don’t try to be your kid’s best friend. It’s the single biggest mistake parents make. Love them, play with them, let them know how much they mean to you, but be their parent. They can make friends, but they can’t make parents. That’s your job.”
I took another drink.
“And one night, you’re going to put your sweet, loving, adorable child to bed, and when she wakes up . . . ”
“She’ll be a teenager.” He said gravely.
“Yep. Teenagers are how the gods punish you for having sex.”
We giggled, then we laughed, then we sat in silence. I thought about all the things we’d done together since we were teenagers, about the ways our lives have changed since then.
“And, for fuck’s sake, don’t let your kid scream in restaurants.”
“I’m way ahead of you on that one.” He said.
That scene replayed itself in my mind on Thursday afternoon when Nolan called me from Anne’s cell phone.
They had a few things to do before they came home, and Nolan was worried about all the homework he needed to do.
“I have a fifty-two word vocabulary test tomorrow, and I have a math challenge,” he said. “But I really want to play Dungeons & Dragons.”
“Time to put on the parent hat.” I thought.
“Well, Nolan, I really want to play, too. But homework comes first. I don’t want you racing through your work to go play with a friend, and I certainly don’t want you to race through your homework to play with me.”
“But when can we play?” He said. “I’m not with you guys this weekend.”
“We’ll play next week,” I said. “I’ll use the weekend to study the DM’s guide even more.”
Secretly, I was more than a little relieved. Among the three of us, I bet I’m the most excited to play, but I don’t feel 100% prepared. I can use a few more hours of study, and a few more simulated battles. I want this game to be awesome for them, so they’ll want to play again.
“Will you help me study for my test?”
“You bet.”
“Okay! Well, I’ll see you when we get home.”
“Okay. Tell your mom to drive safely.”
“I will. I love you.”
Even though he’s twelve, Nolan is quick to tell me he loves me, never shies away from holding my hand when we go places together, and always gives me long, warm hugs goodbye, even when we’re at his school.
“I love you too, Nolan.” I said. I really, really do.
Moments after I hung of the phone, it rang again.
“Wil? It’s Ryan.”
“Hey Ryan. What’s up?”
“Are we still playing D&D tonight?”
“Well . . . ”
“Because I have way too much homework.”
I told him about Nolan’s test, and the ensuing delay of game.
“Oh, that’s a relief.” He said. “Okay, I have to go. See you in a while.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“Love you too,” he said.
I hung up the phone, and sat there, alone at my dining room table. D&D maps and books surrounded me. Ferris and Riley slept at my feet.
“Not bad for a backup QB,” I thought. “I think this kid has some promise.”
Wil
I have been reading your blog for some time now and feel I have gotten a sense on how much you care and love your two boys.
We seem to have labels for everything like “step” parent or “half” brother in our society but don’t get me started there…
You have a great relationship with Ryan and Nolan and that is what counts.
You are not the backup QB to anyone–you are the QB I think and you give yourself too little credit on how well you and Anne are doing.
I think when Ryan and Nolan are adults they will be seriously appreciative of your time and efforts.
Children only care that you care genuinely.
I personally appreciated the comment about not letting children run rampant in resturants. My parents were the same way. If they gave you the look they meant business.
You almost make me long to have children NOT…
Thanks for being a caring parent. The world would be a better place if there were more parents willing to be parents than just friends.
*blinks away tears*
Really Wil. You have got to stop writing stuff like that. It’s crushing my heart.
*eyes shift left, then right*
…
*move quickly in for a hug, then backs away, shuffling feet*
Ponder this: Tom Brady was also ‘just’ a backup quarterback.
He’s done all right by himself since.
Aww. How sweet.
Btw, it is possible to be your kids’ friend *and* a parent. Good friends can make sure their friends have time to do homework and don’t put fun before everything else. My father has always treated me with respect and been someone I could talk to as a friend. Like all friends we had our ups and downs, but we are still very close.
Oh, and if you talk about the whole teenage thing like it’s a big deal you’re heading toward self-fullfilling prophecy. Not all teenagers are difficult or rebellious. Sometimes it’s the parents who are the problem because they refuse to recognize their children as human beings rather than teenagers.
You know, as long as you make a point to say that the relationship is only that of “step-father” & “step-sons”, it will never go beyond that.
When someone says “Oh, but I’m just….fill in the blank” they will always be stuck in that role.
Dear Wil, i really love your postings; they really make me tingle with delight and happiness for you! You really seem such a great guy – an inspiration and role model to us all, parents and children. I have to appologise for spelling your name wrong in my last comment; worse still i had to write it 3 times didn’t i! Well, i’m afraid that i aint got a clue what D&D is, either i’m too young or it didn’t make it over this side of the world, but it sounds great especially if it provides great bonding between you and your (step)kids. They are very lucky you know, to have you – i burn with envy! I assure you 31 is NOT old although i’m speaking from a position of inexperience as i’m only turning 17 in 2 weeks and i’m actually dreading it feeling old too! Sheesh!Oh and guess who shares a birthday with Rob Reiner- Me!! Ha! (does it make a geek for knowing that?!)
keep smiling! Jenn
Wil I’ve wondered why you and Anne don’t have a kid of your own?
Hey Wil! You are not only a popular family guy, you are also one of the most popular actors or actresses right now!
http://dir.yahoo.com/Entertainment/Actors_and_Actresses/
Wow, you sure are popular!
-K
Re: the screaming in restaurants.
If someone could tell me how to keep ours from screaming in restaurants, I’d be buyin’ them the Guinness for life. I can’t just take him out, ’cause that’s usually seen as a reward. If it gets too bad, though, I have to, anyway. He’s still under two, though–hopefully when he understands more and can articulate better he’ll be better.
oh my gosh, Will I never was any fan of star trek, but you have become more famous in my mind because of your writting. My best friend/roomate introduced me to your writting because that is what I eventually want to do with my life, and you have inspired me in so many ways. Especially the way that you write about your life, so raw, so real…It takes guts. Thanks for sharring with us your life.
A fan of your writting,
suzie