Father Of Three

By Shaun Beuth

To me, fatherhood has been a steep learning curve. At first it all seemed so easy: nine months of patting my wife’s tummy and decorating the babies room (back then it would never take 9 months to carry out a simple DIY task).

I was both terrified and excited rolled into one, and pretty much all thumbs for the first many months.

That was eight years ago.

I have been in a new job for 9 months. Ask me how things are there, and I would say that I feel comfortable in my new environment, know who people are, can make competent decisions based on knowledge, and the people who work with me now understand how I operate – after only 9 months.

But being a dad for eight years now (nine if you count the months patting Niks tummy) I can only say that in that job I’m still learning.

Fatherhood isn’t scary anymore – it can seem like endless hard work and it can be the most rewarding experience ever, but the most amazing thing about having children, and especially more than one child, is being able to see the differences in them. That seems a statement of the obvious but each child is so different.

Let me tell you about them:
My eldest son is Thomas. He is nearly 8, loves Duel Masters (it was Yu Gi Oh and before that Pokemon), cricket, soccer and rugby. He taught me to appreciate how much time and effort my own father invested in me when I was a child.

Boys don’t just learn how to bat and throw a ball, how to tackle around the laces, or how to log onto the Virtual NPC on their own. It takes commitment, but Thomas thrives on it – and he beats me in the NPC rugby picks!

Next in line is Sophie (5), our little princess. Not being the most dainty of dads, Sophie has taught me a lot about girl stuff: There are at least 50 versions of Barbie (and accessories); you can never have too many dolls; and pink is the only colour to wear. How Nik and I produced such a ‘real’ girl is a mystery.

Sophie’s idea of fun is to play dress-ups, jump on the trampoline until it has fully stretched out and “do her face” – a game passed on by her Nana. Sophie draws me the most beautiful pictures, tells me every detail of her day and cuddles on any excuse – priceless as they say on those TV ads.

I’m not into playing favourites, but third is Samuel, 2 years old, and he is a real daddy’s boy. From the break of dawn Sammy is my shadow. We sit in the kitchen and make the school lunches, read the paper and get breakfast ready. We fight over the nappy change and ensure everyone is up by 7am.

I never realised how special it would make me feel to be “the one”, that is the one who can kiss bangs better, the one who makes his toast the right way and the one this child wants to spend ALL his time with. I don’t think I am jealous of my wife and her role with the children, but it makes me smile all over when Sammy comes running calling “Daddy, Daddy” – even if it is at 6am every morning!

I often wonder if the reason I have such a close bond with my youngest, Sammy, is because for the first year of his life I was working from home.

I was there most often for the mundane aspects of parenting like nappies and sleeps. Because of this Sammy was just as likely to look for me as he was for his mother. Or maybe it was just that he’s a third child and had to get attention whereever he could find it…

Most of my weekends are spent at home – DIY and the garden are my hobbies. Sammy is my helper (I use that term loosely). No plastic kiddie toys here, he has to have the real thing (full size), and Nik still goes crazy at me when she sees him walking around with a screwdriver in one hand and a hammer in the other (he even has his own tape measure), but I trust him.

Nik and I often talk about what makes our kids’ memories, and how we can create those special moments they will remember. When I think back, apart from a lack of memories from my early childhood, the things I remember are not what was on TV, what toys we had, nor what we did at school. The things that stood out for me when I was a boy were:

House renovations – continuous projects where I held the nails – usually in the dark and rain in a last ditch effort to waterproof the house for the night.

Exploring the neighbourhood with friends. We knew everyone within a 2 block radius and the backdoors (and front) were always open.

Camping trips away in our old circus style tent in various camping grounds and fields across NZ.
Often enough I feel pulled in too many different directions: interruptions from family, from work, from the various kids activities, from house renovation (it was bred in).

So my wife suggested to have a long weekend away, with just one child and me. At first that met with trepidation. There were to be no other agendas or interruptions, no expectations other than to have fun and enjoy.

‘Away’ would probably mean a holiday at my parents’ bach at Whangamata beach. This didn’t seem like such a bad thing after all. Me and one child: they would be in bed by 7.30pm, no sibling rivalry, plus there was rugby on TV and I could eat junk food all weekend. Reluctantly, I accepted the challenge.

Decision made, I let Tommy know that we were off next weekend. I then had to spend the next hour convincing Sophie that her turn would come. One happy boy, one upset girl – and a 2yr old oblivious to anything that would not go neatly into his mouth.

The next Friday Nik packed the car, so I arrived home to be greeted at the door by the dog and Tommy, packed and ready to go. The trip to the beach was heaven: radio sport all the way until coverage was lost. Tommy and I listened to static for a good five minutes hoping to catch the half time score in a Super 12 game. Once all hope was up we reverted to my one Robbie Williams CD.

Upon arrival at the bach we let ourselves in, turned the TV on and caught the second half – thanks TV3! Tommy woke me up after the game and suggested that I go to bed, he would look after the TV and lights. Cheeky bugger.

The next morning he woke up bright and early so we unpacked the dog and gear from the car. ‘There was rugby on last night’, I explained, ‘and sometimes you have to prioritise things in life’. Little had I expected that this trip would allow me pass snippets of my infinite wisdom – a luxury not indulged under normal circumstances.

After a fry-up for breakfast we decided on a trip up to the waterfall in the Wentworth valley. The journey began with a drive along dirt and gravel roads, across a ford, slowly at first, then back again for another crack (this time with a stop in the middle and then with all doors open) then a tad faster… you get the picture. It took us 15 minutes to clear that ford and I’m not sure who enjoyed it more.

The walk to the waterfall was cold, wet, muddy, quiet – heaven really. Boy Heaven. Tommy humoured me for a good 20 minutes before he decided that there was no point in taking the conventional track, especially when you can just walk up the middle of the river, dodging the odd iceberg or tree trunk.

My feet were frozen within 3 minutes and I know his were too, but he never admitted it – though his constant giggling had a background timbre of chattering teeth.

We made it to the waterfall and sat in the sun eating muesli bars (thanks Nik) and taking in the most amazing view. Tommy observed casually that we would have to walk all the way down as I didn’t bring my cell-phone to get someone to pick us up! The trip down was less eventful (it’s easier being swept down river) and after a couple of hours we made our way home – well actually back across the ford another half a dozen times. Some things never wear too thin!

After lunch we had a compulsory sleep – well, I did – and then it was down to the wharf for a spot of fishing.

We dug around in the caravan at the bach as I was sure that I left my bait-catcher and fishing rod there the last time I used them, which was 15 years ago or so. They were still there, ready to go. The hooks may have been a bit rusty and I am sure the nylon would not have held a strong current but away we went.

Doing that fatherly thing I sent Tommy into the water to dig with his toes for some pipi bait. The afternoon was still pretty damp but we were not alone on the wharf – an amazing number of dads had had the same idea.

Whilst not being the most successful fishing trip (we failed to find any pipis), we saw many a sprat pulled up by the other kids, and Tommy seemed undaunted by the fact that his dad couldn’t provide the same. We then just cruised the wharf and enjoyed the others’ successes quietly hiding our own batch-catcher and rusty hooks away.

Another late night up, this time including a number of card games and then a quiet lay down to watch the late movie on TV (Austin Powers – Mum was not there to tell us how unsuitable it was), and yep, Tommy wakes me up after the movie and suggests that I should go to bed, he’ll turn off the lights!

Sunday was a day for a treasure hunt walk along the beach (nothing but laughs), then a quick game of golf on the local 9 hole course. We teamed up with two (childless) guys who obviously felt inspired by the concept.

We lasted two holes before I let them off the hook to enjoy their game at a faster rate. But Tommy and I had a ball. I was seeing life at a different pace, from a different level and with a different focus – it was pretty rewarding really (and I won!!!!).

Two weeks later I did my second trip with number one daughter and that bought its own share of highlights.
Did it work? Both kids still remind me of those trips. They remember amazing details of what we did, what we saw, and that time together. Hopefully it forms who they are and what they look back on. Who knows – I certainly had a lot of fun!

I know it all comes down to personality and interests. Tommy and I share a love of sport and we spend many hours talking, playing and watching it. He is the only kid I know who can watch a 5 day test match from start to finish and name all NPC teams.

Sophie is simply gorgeous: she will be in dungarees until she is 30 if I have my way. But with Sam and I, in the years to come he’ll still be out the back passing me nails and stealing my hammer when I’m not using it.

It makes picking a favourite impossible – the bonds are very much different and I gain so much from each of them. I guess if that is my only worry, I will just have to take it!

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