Something is Seriously Wrong

All things considered, I know I've been extremely fortunate as Eric's dad. Healthy baby, active, good eater, outgoing personality, curious, affectionate. What more could a parent ask? 

I had the rare luxury of spending several hours with my child every day for the first year of his life. In Astoria, our bond was forged through daily rounds in the Bugaboo to the bakery, Dunkin' Donuts and the bagel shop, and continued in Korea with Eric strapped into the front pouch of the Maclaren, accompanying me on my meanderings--out of his cradle, endlessly watching. Since he's picked up language, we've shared stories, dislikes and instruction, talked at length about our feelings, friends and family What he lacks in verbal expressiveness or comprehension I am not impatient to remedy. He is right at or around the proper level of awareness, ability and emotional maturity for his age. There's nothing wrong with him.

It's our communication. Right now, there's something wrong with it. It's not broken--but we're as out of sync as I can remember. I'd like to say it's just a slump: I've been busy with work, or he's been overwhelmed adapting to some new stimulus or mommy and daddy have been fighting a lot. But it's not that. He's super aggressive towards me lately. The barrage of double-kicks and suicide leaps from the sofa are only a little annoying, but the casual defiance disturbs me. It's different from the probing sort he used to use as shortcuts to determine what he could and couldn't get away with. Now, when he rips my hand from the keyboard while I'm working or flails at my glasses when he's upset, I can't help but feel that there's a message there: I'm very not happy with you.

The trick, of course, is to see everything with equanimity. Not to read too much of the current mood or circumstances into a given interaction. I'm normally pretty good at not doing that. And on the surface, it looks like simple resentment which might be remedied by a little attention, a little validation or a little understanding. But I'm pretty sure it's not just that; or perhaps it's that plus something else. I can't shake this feeling that we're misaligned in a way that we've never been before. That what he requires from a father right now is not merely going unmet, but has evolved. It's not that I'm simply not there for him, but rather that the whole arrangement is just not working for him right now as it should.

It's a long list--the list of things I fear may be negatively contributing to our current disjuncture:

• He's spending too much time alone with the sitter.
  
• He's watching too much TV.
  
• He doesn't get outside enough/play enough.
  
• He's sleeping too late and not enough.
  
• He's spending too much time on the computer.
  
• He misses certain people.
• He's not eating right.
• I'm stressed/too tired from work.
  
• I'm not involved enough in his concerns.
• I'm not consistent in my discipline or routine.
• I'm not encouraging his interests enough.
• I'm unhappy.
• I don't play with him enough or the way he wants.
• Mommy's stressed/too tired from work.
  
• Mommy and daddy are fighting too much.
• "Daddy's angry."

The last one is the one he always mentions when I ask him "What's wrong?" According to Eric, it's my cardinal sin. The sequence of a lot of our troubled interactions recently have gone like this: 1) Eric misbehaves; 2) I warn him; 3) Eric persists; 4) I express my anger/disapproval either verbally or physically; 5) he cries and accelerates the misbehavior, sometimes with violence; 6) I either punish him or isolate him. Well. That seems pretty obviously bad.

Despite the list, I believe the question goes beyond his dissatisfaction with my discipline. Parenting as I see it is not simply a seesaw contest between my strengths and my weaknesses as a dad. There's another underlying element which is impossible to talk about with any objectivity but is rooted in the constantly evolving dynamic of the relationship. No single element in our history, I've realized, is definitive in any ultimate sense. Is eschatological the right term here? In other words, as much as I cherish those early days pushing Eric around in his stroller, watching him absorb the world in passing, and as much significance as I attribute to carrying him around in the carrier and, literally, shaping his worldview, these things constantly ebb and flow in significance. We, as parents, must take care not to overly adhere to any specific practices or principles over the evidence of their efficacy, lest in our zeal we risk loving these things above our children.

This I firmly believe. 

That's not to say that I'm abandoning the paternal virtues of patience, gentleness and articulation. It's just that Eric and I are at an important crossroads. I need these virtues but my virtues must constantly adapt to meet my son who is, himself, evolving. The wifer has given me some advice which I found difficult not to discard at first (since she suffers from the opposite vice), but have since come round to: no more ultimatums. What have I got to lose by trying? No more counting to three. No more threats of impending punishment. When he disobeys or lashes out? Be more patient and understanding. I will try this tack but, at the same time, I think it's foolish to blindly plumb the depths of your endurance hoping your nature will rise to the challenge. I want my patience to have some tangible purpose. I mean, besides temporarily improving my relationship with my son. I want some knowledge to come from this exercise. Some practical thing that helps me understand why we're getting along better. Or maybe something I can discuss with Eric. Something that will help me understand him. Even if it's only temporary. And when Eric grows beyond the capabilities of that understanding, something I can discard as easily as an outgrown toy. So maybe he will understand that Daddy's growing, too.