Frontiers in Parenting
Fatherhood, Identity, & Getting a Hobby
Dear Readers of Next Adventure,
Thank you for reading and subscribing. Last week’s Next Adventure essay talked about my AI philosophy when it comes to writing and art. Some people liked the new logo and others didn’t.
Either way, I appreciate your readership.
This week’s Next Adventure essay is an extended version of what I provided to last week as part of his Dad Stuff, Pt. 3.
- Jesse McEntee
When Lou messaged to ask if I’d be interested in writing a bit about dad advice, it happened to be my daughter’s 18th birthday. In the interim, over the past two weeks, my son has obtained his driver’s license, and my 18-year-old has left for the summer, returning for a few days in August before heading off to college.
Gulp.
I don’t cry often, but the tears rolled twice in the past 10 days: once when thinking about my son holding onto my hand twelve years ago (while writing these words), and the second was when my daughter left for her summer counselor job, marking the end of her 18 years living with us. She’ll be back intermittently, but that point in time marks the end of a unique period for me as a father. The feeling I get knowing my entire immediate family is under my roof, safe and secure, is now a fleeting one.
After she left, the digital photo album rotated to a picture of her as a 3-year-old hiking with me on the Forest City Trail in Camel’s Hump State Park. I ripped the digital photo album off the wall and slammed it face down. Eye’s red and puffy, I looked at my wife and said, “What a stupid idea to have kids. So dumb of us…[indiscernable mumbling]”
New emotions, new frontiers. Saddness without solution.
While much of my early childhood is a blur in terms of distinct memories, turning 18 is still fresh in my mind; I think of myself as roughly that age. Or maybe mid-20s.
Driving past the small elementary school both our kids attended, I’m surprised by how small the kids on the playground are. Rarely do I interact with parents of young children anymore since both of mine are old enough to drive.
The perpetual frenzy of raising these vulnerable, curious, and needy creatures slowly morphs into a new frontier of adults parenting adults.
I no longer spend as much time as I used to on the logistical duties of parenting: making sure the kids don’t hit their heads on the corner of the kitchen counter, organizing playdates, and watching every single sports practice. The practical concerns now swapped for psychological preoccupations about my children, who are old enough to drive, go to war, and sign a lease.
I’m generally not one to dispense unsolicited parenting advice, so the invitation to provide some was novel. I don’t claim to have all the answers, but I do have parenting experience and welcome the opportunity to reflect on what I’ve learned so far.
Remember the special moments? Yes, for sure; they’re important.
I can feel my son’s soft 3-year-old hand clutching my index finger as we walk down a sidewalk. He’d let go, run ahead, then return to re-attach; the joint on that finger loosened, and to this day it dislocates easily. By default, these memories are hard to forget, which means intention isn’t that important to remembering them.
An overlooked, yet critical piece of advice I have for parents is to ensure that we maintain our own identities, interests, and passions. I’ve observed parents become defined by their children. To a degree, this is unavoidable.
When our children are young, there’s little else to do other than change diapers, make grilled cheese, and sleep. Some parents seem to lock into this pattern and never pull back, even though their child’s capabilities have skyrocketed; they sustain the parenting intensity of toddlerhood into the teenage years, college, and beyond. Their hobby? Their purpose? Their job? Parenting.
Of course, there are ebbs and flows to being a parent. Helping, talking, guiding… But as adulthood approaches, the goal should be a successful launch. No, 30 is not the new 18. Eighteen is still 18. I’m not kicking them out of the house, but barring a crisis, they won’t live at home with me when they’re 25, 30, or 40. I want them to thrive and explore this incredible planet, and form their own opinions, identities, and goals. And to do that, we need to let kids grow up. And to do that, we need to make sure we’re not hobbling them with our own identities, keeping them under our wing and in our shadow.
Want your children to grow into independent, freethinking individuals? Then maintain your own identity beyond that of a parent. Keep up your interests and passions (and find new ones). Don’t become a dad (or mom) who “used to.”1 Continue to grow and explore. Be a model for your children, someone they can look to as a person with purpose.
Without the parenting role, some parents are rudderless. So they keep going. Their children are the casualties, where they’ve become a parent’s crutch, never wanting to leave or go far since they now feel an obligation to (consciously or subconsciously) help maintain a parent’s identity. Ironically, by caring too much, in this way, we hurt their chances of long-term success.
Remember the precious moments, but also remember that to continue making those memories into adulthood, we can’t lose track of who we are as individuals.
As my daughter sped away down our steep dirt road, I sniffled, staring at the window. I stepped outside and started walking down the forest trail we built together during Covid. She’s on her path now, and I continue on mine.
On to the Next Adventure.
The house is quiet, but the road ahead is wide open. Next Adventure is reader-supported.
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I like the new logo and enjoyed reading on Lou's Fathers Day tribute page a few days ago. Good parents feel the emotion of the next stage in their kids life because it is too, the next stage for themselves and that can be uncomfortable.
Gah, I feel you on this one! My son is 19, in college, and pops in from time to time. My daughter is getting her driver’s license soon. I’m remembering them at 5 years old, mystified at where the time has gone!