Who Taught Me Fatherhood

I had one of those moments recently where you see yourself from the outside, like there's a camera in the room, pointed at you, and for a quick moment you have this totally clear objective vision of yourself.

Elliot was lying on the changing table, diaper off, goofing around.

He was content.  But I wanted to be included.  And when I'm trying to get Elliot to play with me, more often than not my instinct is to be aggressive. 

Sometimes this works.  You've probably seen a child laugh hysterically when being chased by an adult.  But context is key.  Chase them the wrong way and it's not funny at all.  Such a delicate art, making a child laugh.

I couldn't chase him while he was lying on the changing table.  So I growled and snapped my teeth and bit his belly. 

I thought this would be hilarious.  But it wasn't.  He looked at me like I was on drugs. 

Next, I found a toy and handed it to him.  I thought we could play tug.  He grabbed it, and I grabbed the other end, and I tugged.

I tugged it right out of his hands.  He didn't think this was very fun. He shot me a look like Why did you give me that toy if you were just going to take it away?

And that's when I had my moment of clarity.  That's when I saw what I was doing.

I was treating Elliot like a dog.

Not "treating him like a dog" like in some demeaning way.  Not metaphorically treating him like a dog.  I was literally treating him the way I would treat a dog I loved.

Chasing, tugging, growling.  Where else did I learn these things?  It's not like I've been a father before.