Friendship Evolution

The older I get, the more I value my close friendships.  I am fortunate to have several guy friends---many of whom I’ve known since school age---achieve the level of “honorary brother.”  Another categorical description might be “people who you call in the middle of the night when you need someone to post bail,” (no, I’ve never been arrested, but it’s good to have a few of these on retainer).

I do subscribe to the idea that your spouse should be your best friend and am happy to report that it’s true in my case.  Fortunately, the addition of my wife has not caused me to sacrifice my longtime friends.  Since I didn’t get married until my mid-thirties, most of my life’s big events have centered on good times spent with these people (New Year’s Eves, camping trips, concerts, etc.).  I must admit, though, that marriage and fatherhood has created an important period of change in my relationships with them.

Crossing the Threshold

It’s a common experience among men that when one of us gets married, the remaining single guys lament, “Oh well, we’ve lost another one.”  I remember being among those “remaining” single guys…and seeing even less of those married guys when children entered the picture.

Of course, I promised myself that this would never happen to me…that when I eventually got married and had kids, I would do a better job of maintaining my friendships than my predecessors had (naïve, right?).  I am in my fourth year of marriage, third year of parenthood, and first year of having multiple kids.  And I see the landscape of my friendships changing.

Sure, the wedding itself (and, of course, the bachelor party) was an awesome time to share with those closest to me (family and friends).  It’s sadly ironic that I can now pop on my wedding video and see old friends that I’ve only seen once or twice since that day.  They were important enough to me to invite them to my wedding, right?  So where are they now?

Now that I have crossed the threshold of marriage, I recognize some tangible reasons why I don’t see my single and/or childless friends as much as I once did:

·         My interest in hanging out at bars has diminished – Why does anyone pay $7/beer at a bar when they can buy a six-pack for the same money?  The answer is: you can’t meet women by drinking alone in your home.  But once you’re not looking to find a date, going to the bar makes less and less sense to me (unless there’s karaoke).

·         My childless friends aren’t that interested in hanging out at my house – I’ve moved a little further away, but distance isn’t the biggest barrier.  When you come to my house, all activities revolve around the children.  This won’t always be the case (when the kids are older, they’ll be able to play with less supervision), but there’s no escaping it right now.  It’s hard to hang out when you have to keep the volume down, drink less, censor your conversation topics, etc.

·         Conversation with them isn’t as fluid – A good friend is someone with whom you have natural rapport; talk just flows naturally.  But right now, my kids take up about 70% of my brain activity, and I don’t want to be one of “those people” who talk about nothing but their kids (regardless of how adorable and wonderful they are).  My single friends do make a conscious point to ask how the wife and kids are, but I don’t want to overwhelm the conversation with that stuff.

·         I can’t party as late as I used to – I’m just damn tired most of the time.  These late-night feedings are kicking my behind…and that’s combined with a toddler who doesn’t want to go to sleep and can’t wake up early enough; therefore, I walk around like a semi-lucid zombie most of the time.  So even when I can find a night to go out and hang with the guys, I start to over-ripen by about 12-1am.  

·         Neither my friends nor I are big “phone-chatty” people – To me, the phone is for making plans.  I don’t like spending a half hour on the phone “catching up” with people.  And even if I was a long phone call kind of guy, who can devote 30 minutes to a phone call anymore?

My Married with Children Cohorts

The above reasons have made maintaining friendships with much of the old crowd a lot harder.  Subtract get-togethers and phone calls from the relationship, and all of a sudden, someone who was a weekly fixture in your life becomes someone you may run into only twice a year.  Fortunately, not all of my old close friends are in that group.

I was very lucky to have several of my best friends become coupled up, get married, and have their first children within a year of when I did.  All the wives get along well (a luxury, to be sure), and now, our group of friends has the added benefit of providing our children with their own first friends.  Our regular late-night parties have simply morphed into family friendly sleepovers or fresh air excursions.

These changes have done nothing but enrich my life.  It’s nice to have other guys I know who are going through the same things at about the same time.  If one of my friends has an argument with his wife, I can be a more helpful sounding board.  When I found out that my oldest daughter had allergies, it was just in time for me to advise a friend on seeing a pediatric allergist for his son.  One of my other friends recently had his second son, so I’ll have a confidant in the More Than One Kid Club.

(Abbreviated) Tale of Two Friendships

One of my best friends, Ralph, is someone who I’ve known since elementary school.  A lot of my childhood memories (playing video games, Boy Scout camping trips, coping with bullies, etc.) include him.  In elementary and middle school, we’d go to the arcade together, get pizza after school, hang out at each other’s houses until one of our moms would drive us home, normal kid stuff.  We were close friends through high school when we began to drift apart, moving with different crowds.  Our story could have ended there, as so many childhood friendships become little more than wistful, nostalgic memories.

Thankfully, we reconnected when I got back from college.  It was a chance encounter at a party that, surprisingly, rekindled our friendship.  We were back to having regular phone calls and chances to hang out---doing more adult things, but maintaining that childhood element of fun.  I then realized that strong friendships can be built on something as simple as common history (there are very few people who have known me as well or for as long).  There’s a great comfort in hanging out with someone when there is no pretense, no planning necessary.

Through Ralph, I got to meet someone who became another close friend.  I agreed to manage his band for a couple of years, and I got to know the other guys in the group.  Carlos, the band’s founder, seemed genuinely appreciative of my efforts to organize and promote the band, and we also had similar senses of humor.  Ralph and Carlos had a natural rapport (with some good-natured bickering thrown in) that I felt very comfortable with as well.  Carlos eventually went from being just a “friend of a friend” to being someone I invited to be part of my wedding party (joining only four other guys who I had known for many years longer).

Now here’s where the paths diverge.

Carlos got married and had his first child within the same year as me.  Ralph, though he has been in a committed relationship for several years, is still living the no-child lifestyle that I had long enjoyed (but peacefully said goodbye to).  Now, it’s unusual for a week to go by without talking to or seeing Carlos and his family (if only through the endless cycle of kids’ birthday parties).  Ralph, on the other hand, seems to be fading into the woodwork right now.

I don’t have anger about it, and I do not blame him for the situation.  When I was in that position, I was plenty guilty of losing track of friends who were married with kids. I can’t blame someone for having a job, a girlfriend, regular music gigs, and an active social life…any more than he could blame me for getting married and having kids.  The problem, as I see it, is that we became very used to having such an easygoing, effortless friendship.  But now, if we want to hold on to it, we will both need to make more effort.  And if the friendship is worth saving (which I think this is), then it will happen…eventually.

As a closing thought, I must acknowledge that all these observations are coming from a fairly new father.  When all of my kids are 8-10 years older (and reasonably self-sufficient), maybe my life will open back up again and allow more and differing opportunities for hanging out with the guys.  Will it go back to the way it was?  Will it be something entirely different?

Update

My newest entry has been over a week in coming but not for any lack of ideas.  When I first started this blog, I was a father of one with two on the way.  I now am a father of three girls, who I will refer to by the names of Sonia (my two year old), Ally and Beth (the newborn twins).

The reason for the delay after “Focus on the Small” is the lack of REM sleep.  I know it’s a cliché for people to joke about getting no sleep with babies in the house, but (a) it’s true, and (b) when you’re trying to write something meaningful, it’s a little hard to revise for coherence when you don’t have it in your head.  I’m lucky that my daughters don’t wake up crying or screaming, but since they are breast milk-fed, we’ve got to feed them every three hours.

It’s funny; when Sonia was born, I was still working full-time.  My wife was on leave from work, so she shielded me as much as possible from the late night feedings and changings (for which I was quite grateful).  In this house, we don’t cling to old-fashioned “woman” and “man” roles: we tend to look at all the tasks that need to get done and just try to divide them up equally and reasonably.  Of course, that even division leads to my current situation:

·         We’re both home full-time for the next couple of months

·         We have TWO newborn babies to care for this time

·         We also have a two year old who is insisting on plenty of attention

Therefore:

·         I haven’t gotten more than four straight hours of sleep in a while...

It has been a little frustrating (not getting to share my thoughts with my readers), but I’m trying not to push myself too hard.  As my wife reminded me, we’re still only in the first month, so it is going to get easier.

So thanks for reading my entries so far, and I look forward to sharing more with you this week.  If any of you would like to post a comment, please feel free.

Focus on the Small

My employment situation changed radically at about the same time I became a dad.  There wasn’t an A to B relationship; it just worked out that I became unemployed (or more accurately, underemployed) right when my wife finished her maternity leave.  In no way would I call this a “fortunate” turn of events, but I have learned to take something positive from the situation as it relates to my parenting.

Many men (including my own father) have commented on how they envy my opportunity to “be there” for my daughter in these important early years as she transforms from “baby” to “child.”  I appreciate their sentiment; however, my focus here is not on simply “quantity of time” spent with my child.  It’s about trying to live my life more in the moment, taking small amounts of satisfaction for a job well done…even for something rather minor in the “grand scheme of things.”

This sense of satisfaction stemming from day-to-day life was something I noticed even before fatherhood.  Here are a list of mundane, household tasks that give me this feeling of minor accomplishment:

·         Getting caught up on laundry

·         Monitoring online payment of monthly bills

·         Cooking a complete meal for guests (balanced nutrition, using fresh ingredients)

·         Completing a grocery shopping trip (seeing a fully stocked fridge and pantry)

I know what you’re thinking: nobody gets the Nobel Prize for Laundry Completion.  Or, to tap a more contemporary way of thinking: no one gets paid (at least, not very highly) for doing laundry…certainly not their own.  Likewise, I may be a better-than-average cook, but I’m nowhere near the level of a professional chef---so I’m not going to get paid for this talent anytime soon either.  We tend to only focus feelings of accomplishment on tasks or skills that produce MONEY.  As children, most of us were told that money wasn’t the most important thing in life…until we became old enough to get jobs.  But sometimes, it’s healthy to shine the old mental flashlight on things that make us feel good about ourselves that aren’t connected to taxable income.

Applying this concept to day-to-day child-raising is a natural fit.  If you are accustomed to thinking in terms of long-term goals, then you will often lose patience with your child (and your own experience with raising and teaching them).  At our jobs, we tend to think of “finish lines” (planning and executing a meeting or event, submitting a report, sending a company-wide e-mail, etc.).   With parenting, your child may pee on the potty one day and then soil themselves the next 3 days.  If you can let go of that disappointment (by expecting a few steps back for every step forward), then you can begin to enjoy the little moments of brilliance.

For example, my wife and I would like our daughter to learn to eat three meals a day.  Seems like a modest enough goal toward her socializing with other humans, right?  We’ve always made meal time clearly known (we try not to just put food out while she’s watching TV too often).  But of late, she has rebelled against dinner.  Not sure why…could be the kind of food (I can relate---it’s hard to top breakfast)…could be the darkness (thanks to the shortness of winter days)…could be that it’s a sign that bedtime isn’t far off.

So even though she, in the past, has eaten (and liked) all of the foods we offer, she has decided not to eat at dinner time.  A regression, to be sure.  However, my momentary flash of personal satisfaction came when I heard her say---after firmly waving away any meat, sweet potatoes, green veggies, etc.---“no food, no milk.”  This is the same sentence I would say as a threat (if she didn’t eat dinner, she could expect no treat later), and she had learned that it would be voiced when she chose not to eat.

Once I got past the frustration of her not eating, I had to smile at the fact that she at least understood the consequences of her actions.  She was taking a stand---perhaps even testing Mommy and Daddy’s resolve---and was perfectly willing to take her punishment.  Does she still ask for milk later in the evening?  Sure.  But when she gets the “no” answer, she doesn’t throw a fit…

Now is the lesson fully taught yet?  No…she still isn’t eating dinner.  But I can take some personal satisfaction of having given her a boundary and observing her respect it.

They don’t learn to walk every day.  But sometimes, it just feels good to get the laundry done.

Temper, Temper (Mine and Hers)

I originally got into the teaching profession because I was told that I was very patient with people as I explained concepts and processes to them.  However, when burnout began to set in, I found that patience to be largely a façade.  I learned how to appear patient, and I could withhold my own frustration until the end of the period.  So when I was about to become a parent for the first time, I did have some concern about how I was going to demonstrate the boundless patience that is the hallmark cliché of parenting.

What I’ve been surprised at is how much more patient I have become since my first child came along.  There may be no better gauge of that patience than how infrequently I lose my temper…especially in the presence of a toddler who’s just learning what a temper is.

Other adults who regularly interact with my daughter often comment on how good-tempered and well-mannered she is.  I certainly appreciate the compliments, and I’m grateful that she is on her best behavior for company.  However, she’s not perfect, and little episodes do occur…generally, when it’s just us around the house.  Sometimes, it’s predictable (kicking and screaming about not getting a certain toy or putting on a specific show on the TV), and other times, it seems to come out of nowhere.  In either case, it usually winds up being a lousy time for me to have to deal with.

Throughout my life, I have been prone to small temper bursts when inconvenience strikes (traffic issues when I’m running late, a co-worker not doing their job properly, etc.).  I don’t think that anyone who knows me well would refer to me as “violent,” but I’ve definitely been guilty of saying the wrong thing now and then---typically out of anger or frustration.

Daniel Goleman’s wonderful book, Emotional Intelligence, was a great resource for me to learn about “re-framing” (essentially, taking a situation that is causing stress or anger and looking at it from another perspective).  For example, if a driver cuts you off in traffic, darting from lane to lane at high speed, it would be easy to think “That a$$hole!”  That line of thinking leads to you driving more aggressively and being more prone to accidents.  Instead, if you choose a different interpretation (ex. “Wow, I’ll bet that guy really has to go to the bathroom.”), you are more likely to smile or laugh.  The anger is positively dealt with.

I’ve used the same approach in dealing with my daughter, and it’s resulted in much more patience than I had thought myself capable.  I have gotten my brain into the habit of re-framing when my daughter starts to get crabby (let’s say…around dinner time).  I may be irritated that she isn’t eating, but as soon as she starts to cry or moan or ask for a snack instead, I become very dispassionate, almost robotically removed from anger.  My tone is firm and a little elevated, but I’m not yelling at my daughter.  My focus goes from being angry because my dinner is being interrupted to teaching my daughter that her behavior is unacceptable.

It may be easier for a stay-at-home dad to make this quick adjustment since we’re generally “on duty” whenever the children are awake and home.  But even for the days when my kids are older and I’m back to working full time, there is a clear motivation in my mind.  This motivation is what consistently reminds me of why I need to deal with my anger responsibly.  I’m teaching her how to deal with anger.

Now, I’ll never call myself the absolute BEST role model for anger management, but isn’t one of the goals in raising children to make them at least a little better than you?  There are some lessons I’ve learned in adulthood about anger, and if I can bestow them on her early, she’ll have a distinct advantage.

One of those lessons is to really think about how to best express anger or frustration.  Yelling or throwing a fit (which is done by adults as well as children) may feel satisfying, but it rarely gets the person what they want.  If my daughter wants to have a cookie or to watch her favorite show, she can…as long as she realizes which methods of asking get her good results and which ones do not.  Sometimes she’ll have to wait…and if she throws a fit…she’ll wait even longer.

Without getting into an extended lecture on “rules for dealing with your anger,” my patience is nourished by the need to acknowledge that this lesson (and others) will not be absorbed quickly.  Even though she may express her emotions positively today, she will probably have a mini-tantrum tomorrow.  But instead of having thoughts like “I can’t believe she is misbehaving again today,” I re-frame the moment into thoughts of “here’s my opportunity to build on yesterday’s lesson.”