Reporter’s note: This story was originally published in 2022. On this Father’s Day of 2024, I thought it appropriate to rekindle what I learned from my children — and continue to learn. My hat is off to all fathers out there.
On days like today, when millions of fathers across the country reflect on what it really means to be a dad, papa, abba, babba or whatever name your culture uses, I find myself thinking about expertise versus experience.
While I’ve raised three children and spent three decades in the field of fatherhood, I do not begin to claim I’m an expert in parenting. I make mistakes like everyone else. Though I do possess plenty of experience — and many profound yet perhaps obvious truths you only understand once you’re staring down a dirty diaper.
But before I list off all the magnificent things being a babba has taught me, I must mention the lessons learned from my own babba: Kheridean Shamsi-Basha, who was the Poet Laureate of Syria for a decade and loved my siblings and me to the degree of absurdity. He taught us that love is more essential than oxygen, that beauty is on the inside, that we should treat others with kindness, and that living in the clouds was a good thing. As an idealistic poet, that’s where he resided, where the air was chilly and crisp, and where only good things happened.
Though one of his hardest lessons was this: Do the right thing. Simple, but impossible.
When I became a babba for the first time, on Jan. 2, 1992, all those lessons barreled through my consciousness. I quickly ascertained that fatherhood is difficult — very difficult. The bathing, the dressing, the middle-of-night feedings, the 24/7 surveillance — not to mention having someone depend on you for survival, food, clothing and shelter. And if they get sick, your life is on hold until they’re better. Work? Ha. Sorry.
What follows are 21 things fatherhood has taught me, much of which I knew going in. Yet if you’re about to become a dad, nothing I say will prepare you enough. My hope is this miniature crash-course provides some assistance while you’re wondering how this tiny, adorable baby can completely overwhlem every ounce of freedom you used to own.
21 things fatherhood has taught me
1. Here’s a tip you can use almost immediately: When changing your baby boy’s diaper, cover him with the wipe the entire time to avoid an, uh, dousing. It took a few shirt-changes before I learned.
2. Become friends with the owls outside. You will spend many sleepless nights due to colic, gas, or any of the kazillion reasons the baby has decided to keep your entire street awake. Somehow, that tiny eight-pound bundle of love may turn louder than a firetruck for 17 consecutive hours.
3. Colic or not, stay calm, then rock them gently and sing them to sleep. My babies are now 24, 28 and 32. I miss the days when they fit in my arms, when I sang them two songs before they faded to sleep: “You are my Sunshine” and “Amazing Grace.” I still catch myself singing those at random times, and my smile in those moments is laced with reflection. Have I said that I’m ready for grandkids?
4. When you become a father, you will discover a new measure of love you did not know existed. When I first gazed at each of my children in the delivery room, my heart ached with a new feeling. I was also instantly inducted into the “there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you” club.
5. Create traditions to treasure with your kids, especially ones your parents did with you. I used to hide from momma in my babba’s abaaye (Middle Eastern camel-hair house robe). When my kids were little, they played and hid in mine. I also used to read them pretend books — made-up stories while holding my palm up as the book. Another sweet tradition was waking them up. I would ask them: “Did you go to the moon?” Sometimes they would say “no,” other times they would grin and say “yeah.” I trust they will pass similarly sweet traditions onto their own kids.
6. I learned that women are much smarter than men, both intellectually and emotionally. Women perceive and evaluate emotions, and they look ahead while considering the past. The women in my life have seemed to plan their entire life while in their teens. When I was a teenager, thinking what I’m doing the next hour was my main concern.
7. I learned that every single mother should win the Nobel Peace Prize, for nourishing, nurturing, and protecting their babies in ways men can only imagine. Yes, there are billions of moms on this planet — that would be a lot of plaques. And your point is?
8. Pay attention. Watching “Seinfeld” reruns while your wife is giving birth is not a good idea. I repeatedly glanced at the hospital television during the long labor of our third child. My ex-wife reminded me of that for a long time afterward.
9. Decompression might be good for you after the baby. It is beyond necessary for your child’s mother. Provide the time. Support. Sacrifice.
10. If you have the means, make date-night with your partner a weekly event. It is essential for the two of you to connect and remember why you loved each other in the first place. When kids come, much of that connection and remembrance fades into the background.
11. When your kids are little, enforce the rules while reminding them of your love. This is huge. If they violate a rule, reasonable discipline is fine, but keep it kind. Timeouts work like magic.
12. When they become teenagers, they will do stupid stuff like getting a tattoo on their arm — by a friend, who did it with an electric toothbrush! — smoking weed then denying it while laughing uncontrollably with bloodshot eyes - or staying out way past curfew. Eventually, they will grow up. So, lighten up.
13. Raising teenagers is hard. Look at the big picture. Fast forward. Play mind games with yourself. Whatever it takes. Don’t be uptight. Blink, and they’re gone.
14. Be friends with their friends. Hopefully, the friends will love you, which will lead your teenage kids to reluctantly admit you into the “my babba is not as stupid as I thought” club.
15. If you are a single father, as I am, only say good things about their mother (or father), regardless. Your kids love both of you equally, regardless.
16. When they’re heading to college or their first job, they will act like adults. Remember that they still need you. Eighteen is the preferred age for independence in the West. In the Middle East where I’m from, kids reside in the parent’s home till they’re married, and relatives are into your business way past 18. There’s value in both ways. And as they begin to chart their own way in life, emotional, intellectual, and soulful support remain important. Becoming a responsible adult is not easy. You have experience. They don’t.
17. Speaking of independence, remain a huge part of your kids’ lives. They will appreciate and ultimately love that (even if they feign annoyance).
18. Compliment them, even into adulthood. When one of them texts you an accomplishment, text all of them saying how proud you are to be their babba. My kids love that — they even told me so!
19. Don’t be quick to correct their mistakes; Breafkast is spelled like that on purpose. My youngest, the adorable Demi, used to ask for breafkast every morning (we still say breafkast in my family, and my heart flutters every time I hear it).
20. Bending the truth a tad is ok, with little things. When little, Zade had a goldfish named, Lovey. Lovey would last a month or two then go to goldfish heaven. I would replace it with another so Zade didn’t get upset. One day, Zade noticed that Lovey changed in size abruptly! At least the funeral service in the backyard was beautiful.
The last and most important point of all, and the one I mentioned a few times, but never enough:
21. Show love. Communicate love. Love. You cannot love them enough. Love your babies until you think there is no more love left in the universe, then love them some more.
Well, that’s my list. It’s worked for me so far. Happy Father’s Day, fellow dads. It’s a huge honor, much more than what we deserve. Cherish it.
Karim Shamsi-Basha may be reached at kshamsi-basha@njadvancemedia.com. Follow him on Twitter @karim_s_basha. Find NJ.com on Facebook.
