Looking After Number One
By Joe Barker
“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy”; my fists clench and my heart pounds as another Marty interrogation begins. Not unusually for a three-year-old, Marty is full of questions, questions that cannot be asked until, like a magic incantation to the spirit of knowledge, the infuriating phrase “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy” has been declaimed at least three times. Questions that will inevitably be repeated as soon as I've answered them. Questions that will beget more questions. Questions without end. Questions that are annoying, but not so annoying as to justify the combination of the despair and rage I'm feeling.
Following the arrival of Alice, the last few months have been pretty chock-full of intense Daddy-Marty time, and I'm starting to realize I've had enough. Obviously, I love Marty deeply, and I love playing with him, but I've had too much of a good thing, and I need some time to myself, some time for self-care. As tempting as it is to scream in frustration at the approach of another avalanche of questions, I take a few deep breaths and ask “Yes?” as calmly as I can. Then I make a mental vow to find more time for myself; it's either that or investing in an expensive new identity and running away somewhere my children will never find me.
An early start
It's a few weeks later, and I'm writing this at 4am, which is not a time I'd usually choose to be awake. However, after the excitement of trying to change a diaper in the dark without dropping Alice or smearing poop everywhere, followed by a thrilling game of “pop the bottle in the baby you can't see”, I'm wide awake. Alice, meanwhile, is covered in milk, but hopefully not poop, and has gone back to sleep. Whatever self-care I've done recently has worked, because today, rather than seeing this middle-of-the-night awakening as the disastrous prelude to another draining day of childcare, it almost seems like bonus time: an opportunity to catch up on things. Maybe I'll finally reply to my mom's letter, get started on that overdue BAMBI article, or simply enjoy some quality Netflix time. An hour or so later I even respond to Marty's unexpectedly early first cry of “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy” with an exuberant “Marty, Marty, Marty.” Probably quite annoying for my wife who was trying to sleep, but better than howling with frustration or fleeing to a desert island under an assumed name.
Lack of sleep is undoubtedly a feature of parenthood, and I'm sure you're all very tired too. Some incredibly annoying people, I'm thinking mainly of my wife here, seem unaffected by broken nights, remaining just as productive and positive even after a lack of sleep. I'm not one of those people. Tiredness turns me into a foul-tempered monster of a father and husband, growling at my children as they unreasonably demand to be fed or have diapers changed or grunting at my wife when she wishes me a good morning. At such times, childcare seems like an unremitting chore, the aim simply to get through to another bedtime without crying or breaking any important things, like my children or marriage. So today's self-care is going to involve a nap. After a 4am start, everyone will have a better day if I nap.
An exercise in willpower
Exercise is a vital part of my self-care. I'm always happier after a run, even if I tend to express that happiness by lying on the couch and moaning about how much everything aches. Yet while I dream of long cycle tours or days spent running in the mountains, long-distance epics aren't really compatible with looking after small children, and to be honest, after a day of childcare, even a half-hour run in the park often requires more willpower and energy than I have. If knowing I'll feel much better for a little exercise or the thought of a question-free hour isn't enough to get me out of the door, I turn to that greatest of all motivational tools: bribery. The promise of chocolate is usually enough to get me moving. Willpower is good, but chocolate is even better.
Eating to survive
Food plays a key role in my parenting: when Marty or Alice are cranky or annoying, I turn to food. First, I wolf down a slice of toast or a cookie or two. Then if they still seem cranky or annoying I consider feeding them. Amazing how often snack time makes everyone feel better. When Marty went through a spell of getting me up before 5am every day, only the thought of chocolate got me out of bed and down the stairs. As I made his morning milk, I'd start the day's chocolate bar. Throughout the day, whenever sleep deprivation started to rear its head, I'd head back to the fridge for another square or two. Not an ideal diet but it was what I needed to get through the day.
While I'm no longer eating a chocolate bar a day, tasty snacks are an essential part of my life. If I've got to do the same jigsaw 50 times with only the occasional welcome relief of a dirty diaper to change, then I'm going to do it with a cup of tea and a plate of cookies. I hadn't realized children were going to be so bad for my waistline, but I've accepted gaining a few extra pounds is better than constantly shouting at Marty and Alice. Perhaps I'll finally cut the snacks when they go to school?
Letting go of ego
The phrase “no one is indispensable” was a crushing blow to my ego, but a much-needed message for my well-being. I'd been feeling guilty about leaving the house when there were children to look after, especially as Marty would scream every time I mentioned going out. Fortunately, I did venture out, and it turns out, Marty will play with his nanny, and Alice can indeed nap with other people. Now I just need to shake the vague feeling of guilt that I should be at home doing something useful whenever I go out, and I can really start to enjoy myself.
My weekly trip to the climbing wall sounds like exercise, but it’s really about chatting with some other dads and getting their advice and reassurance that everyone finds parenting tough sometimes. That's where I picked up the gem about no one being indispensable, along with the assurance that this means I can definitely go climbing twice a week.
The only problem is, all my reasons for leaving the house are exercise-based, which is pretty exhausting. Perhaps some relaxing childcare is what I need to recover from all this self-care—anyone want to do a jigsaw puzzle?
About the author
Joe and his wife Diane moved to Thailand in 2018. Since the arrival of their son Martin in 2021 and daughter Alice in 2024, Joe has been a stay-at-home father. The whole family enjoys BAMBI playgroups and Thai beach holidays.