Doing a Dad

Daddy Dilemmas is pleased to present its first guest writer, Mihiri Udabage.

Mihiri and her family have been great friends of ours for the past 10 years. Mihiri sent through a piece she penned a few years ago, but the story is too good not to share!
She currently operates her own small business, Generation Wonder. Generation Wonder specialises in organic, eco-friendly, fairtrade items and gifts for children. Visit her fantastic online store at http://www.generationwonder.com.au/

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When D.A.D is Bad.
Mother of two, Mihiri Udabage, explains the new meaning of DAD.

We’ve coined a new phrase in our house. It’s called ‘Doing a Dad’. I doubt very much it’s original since on reflection most dads I know have ‘done a dad’ at some point or other. And before you go thinking about odd sexual encounters with or between dads, let me clarify.

Doing a Dad (D.A.D) refers to an act, be it spoken, written or physical, carried out by the father of your children, who is also sometimes your husband (unfortunately, at these times only), such that it humiliates you and your children in a public and most embarrassing manner. It is a phenomenon that oddly manifests itself only on occasions where it is very important to you (wife, partner and mother) that your family is perceived to be of good calibre. It is also recognisable by the roll of the eyes and mutterance of the mother, as in, “Oh no, he’s done a dad.”

This is a condition difficult to diagnose for the first time parent, but instantly recognisable by those of us weathered by more than one season of pregnancy. Yes, that’s all the time it takes for the D.A.D condition to become symptomatic, for those destined to be severely afflicted.

Case in point: - the first time my husband Did a Dad was in our obstetrician’s office. I was keen for him to attend, and to his credit he did make each and every 5 minute appointment we were allocated. As a first-time expectant parent, I was over-read, over-advised, and over-googled about the whole deal. Naturally, I wanted to make a good impression on our doctor and hopefully impress him with my knowledge and sound preparation such that he would forever remember me as a whole and intelligent person, and not just a vessel carrying his pay cheque.

Each five minute appointment was efficiently routine. He’d ask me how I was. I’d say, fine thank you. Any questions? Not today thank you. Any concerns? No, I’m good. Hop on the scales. Hop on the bed. Take blood pressure. Listen to baby’s heart. Prod. Poke. See you next time. Done.

So when my husband piped up with “I have a concern doctor...” I was a little taken aback. What concern? He wasn’t concerned enough to mention it to me before the appointment. “I’ve been reading about pregnant women getting high blood pressure,” he pondered. “What are we doing about that?” My eyes widened and froze. My doctor looked up from his note taking and looked at me then at my husband. “We take her blood pressure…..every time,” he groaned, before peering over his glasses back at me. ME. As if it was my question. “Oh. Yes….yes, yes, yes. Good. Good, good, good,” nodded my husband approvingly.

I couldn’t wait to get out of the office to hiss my derision at him. But before we could leave, his mobile went off in the reception area and the fossil on point duty at the front desk gave him a two minute lecture about mobiles and their deadly interference with medical equipment, just long enough for the doctor to come out to collect the smug couple of perfection waiting, and see us hanging our heads in shame.

So that’s how it rears its insidious little head. A first hint, followed closely by a second bite. You could almost palm it off as a glitch, or having a bad day. But you know it’s real and he’s Done a Dad if one or more of the following happen:

- Your baby’s just been born. Your husband proudly exclaims for all in the room to hear “It’s a boy!” Wrong. It’s a girl.
- You’ve just finished telling your girlfriends how good he is with the children, when he sprints past, keys in hand. “Gotta go back to the shops. Left the kids on the Big Red Car!”
- He agrees to bring the children to meet you at the airport. Your four year old daughter is dressed in her 2 year old brother’s pants, and your son is in his sister’s red poncho.
- You’re just taking your leave of the paediatrician when your husband settles back in his seat and starts talking about his medical history and how he hasn’t been feeling well lately, and does the paediatrician think he might have caught something while he was out getting his haircut last weekend?

So before any other mum, wife or partner is caught unawares by a dad Doing a Dad I’m off to put my listing of D.A.D on wikipedia. Does anyone know if you can upload photos?

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Thanks Mihiri. Top work Raj! I'll hopefully learn from your previous indiscretions!