Daddy day care

At random moments my eldest child, my son Zion, would ask what it is like to be a father. My response is usually, “normal,” but in all honesty it is far from it.

The fondest of memories I have of my father from childhood is always one of provision. He is and always has been a provider. Even in my big old age he is still there, providing. And that is exactly what I hope to emulate for my children.

Majesty, my daughter, is now learning to talk, but from what I have observed so far, she will be a hand-foot-belly-back-and-head full. I expect similar questions from her very soon.

My objective as a father is to one day not have them be known as “Jensen’s children,” but for me to be recognised as “Zion’s and Majesty’s father.” I want them to be happy, successful and stress-free – granted life is stressful. Still, I try to raise them in a way that they will mitigate stress to the point that it is not a hindrance to them.

I was present at both births, and I would have had it no other way. They are mine! That, for me, signifies that I am there for them. And the provider in me, that trait I inherited from my father, demands that all that I do now is for their benefit.

Being a father of these two, both having completely different personalities, is fun, frustrating and terrifying. I always remember how terrified I was to hold them when they were babies, because they were too small and I was afraid I would drop them.

Fatherhood is a lot like the card game, all fours – you need a partner to master the game. And I don’t mean a sexual partner. Far from it! Fatherhood requires the type of support I get from my wife Candice. Because as strong as I am, I can’t be a solitary father. It may work for others, but not for me. You see, fatherhood, for me, is different from parenting, because one can be a father and not a parent, and vice-versa. A big part of fathering for me is recognising some of my irksome traits in my children and laughing at myself. Additionally, seeing the potential in my children and nurturing them, instead of imposing my own lifelong dreams on them.

My son is stubborn like me, but bold like his mother, and we clash on a daily basis. My pretty princess is feisty, like her mother and loving, like me. In a couple years I expect my home to be the place where World War III meets kumbaya. I can’t wait! There is this unexplained joy I get in seeing my daughter’s face light up at my presence. The same feeling comes when my son approves my cooking with his, “daddy it bussin” – one of the best compliments a child can give to his father. The first time I was complimented on my culinary skills, it came from a red-skinned, big-bottomed woman – so my standards are high.

There are days when fatherhood seems like the slogan of Yung Bredda, “What are you doing?” In those moments you just have to hope that you are doing a good job, and that’s when you lean heavily on your support system. Sometimes when I’m nagged by my son for a better response than “normal” to his what it is to be a father question, I tend to be honest and tell him I am winging it; taking it one day at a time; rolling with the punches. And some of those punches land hard!

I, like many other fathers, am constantly worried about the world we live in. There are days when I would rush home to hug my children after having to get information on the death of a child and having to write a report. Interviewing grieving parents is always such a heart-breaking part of the job. Then there are the times when I walk the tightrope of life, having to balance work and family. Sometimes work takes precedence because I have to put a roof over their heads, and clothe and feed them. But I know in the end, once I strike the right balance, the family will always wins and my sacrifices will not be in vain.

As a father, I believe it is important that I share with my children, my plans for their future, listen to their plans for their future and find ways for us to get to a common ground. It is remembering that “do as I do” is a greater lesson than “do as I say” – teaching, like my father did, with actions more than words.