It's easy to rant about politics or unions or religion. Even though the things I say (unskillfully) are without question my own, it is less costly to be honest (even with myself) about things and issues external than things true to me. See, there are variables I cannot control, and facts of which I can comfortably claim ignorance, that influence U.S. foreign policy and even Omaha leash laws. Not so in my own mind and body, where I am solely responsible for content and editing. No press releases for me to miss, no fair and balancing act; just a question of how much accuracy will be allowed.
So I am a father of 28-month-old twin boys, and I am not in a romantic or physical relationship with their mother. I am, however, as involved as possible in my son's lives, by which I mean that I am with them a large portion of their waking hours. I am imperfect, to be sure, but I am not a sperm donor or a child support check. I make breakfast and lunch, we practice our letters and numbers, we go for long walks and learn the names of different bugs and flowers. Last week we learned the word gravity, and the accompanying physical law (water goes from the top of the fountain to the bottom because of gravity. So saith my beloved sons). I give them tons of hugs and kisses, and I sing to them (poorly) before their midday nap. In short, I do the things a dad is supposed to do. I don't say this to garner any credit, but simply to provide an accurate description of my daily life and priorities. My sons come first, period.
First place is decided and is not negotiable. When I am not with my sons, however, I am by all rights single and reasonably attractive, certainly not without some rough-hewn charm. So given the fact that making love (or whatever you call it) is a healthy and necessary function of human behavior, why am I so reluctant to take part? Some of it is time, I suppose. I definitely don't have the time to invest in a relationship with a woman. I guess another part is the emotional fatigue inherent in raising a couple of energetic kids. At the end of a long day of fatherly attentiveness, my emotional beer mug is just mostly empty. Anyone doing it right, though, will argue correctly that sex for its own sake is rejuvanating to body and spirit. I also don't think the act necessitates marriage or even a commitment, as long as all parties involved are open-eyed about the situation.
I think, right or wrong, it feels as though I would be alienating attention I owe to my sons. That sounds weird, I know, but I know for a fact that I have never felt a visceral sense of duty to anyone or anything before my boys were born. Sure I respect my parents and feel some attachment to my family and a couple of friends, but this is different. I have no problem not getting married for my own selfish reasons. I don't want to deal with the passive-aggressive behavior that is the hallmark of every relationship I have ever seen. I won't resign myself to either a total loss of sovereignty or to the alternative stupid and underhanded struggle over who gts to be in charge. I don't want to have to cater to another grown-up's irrational neuroses for the next 50 years. With my sons, though, it's different. They don't have a choice and neither do I. They are mine and I am theirs, writ in letters plain as day. I therefore have to be as broad and as deep, as sharp and as soft, as they need 100 percent of the time. I find it difficult, therefore, to move from that uncompromising fealty to simple enjoyment in my life apart from theirs. It's a problem.
Much Peace,
thomasj
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