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Guys: It’s Time to Daddy the F*ck Up
What moment made you the dad you are today? The answer to this questionwill define a generation of men.
My bachelor pad was a penthouse at the corner of Massachusetts and Commonwealth avenues. I had picked itfor the silence, the view, and the morning light. But everyFriday my two toddlers, Kerry and Seamus, would pile intothe tiny elevator to ride up for an overnight visit.
 
At first I didn’t know what to do with them. Diapers,formula, Pack ‘n Plays were not my thing; money andbooze and women were. I had purchased bunk beds, eventhough neither of the kids was old enough to sleep in thetop bunk yet, and a matching blond wooden toy chest. Butthe furniture didn’t prepare me to be a dad.After getting beaten to a pulp by the effort required to dealwith children unwilling to take their baths, eat dinner, go tosleep, or sit still the first few times they visited, some faintintuition finally clicked. Something no one taught me oreven mentioned as a good idea.I got on my hands and knees and became a monster. Ichased Kerry and Seamus around and around the tinyapartment. I counted to 10 and played hide-and-seek. Icaught them and tickled their necks. I smelled my ownchildren, heard their laughs, and watched joy dance acrosstheir faces, and I felt joy in my heart for those fleetingmoments of physical connection. When we were done withan hour of roughhousing they slept immediately and hard—so did I.
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For dads there is one moment when all the things we havebeen told about what it means to be a father, and all thethings we have experienced as sons, get tossed out thewindow and we are confronted with the reality andmagnitude of taking responsibility for our own children.For some, the defining event is the moment of birth; for
 
others, it’s a moment of loss through divorce, maturation,or even death. But for all, a central questions is: Whatmoment made you the dad you are today? The answer tothis question will define this generation of men. We don’tneed to man up, we need to
daddy
up. Our kids are waiting.Here is what some guys had to say.
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I remember a nurse demanding I “hold her leg!” Severalexhausting pushes by my beloved later and I was officiallya daddy. I felt dumbstruck but not anxious. The weight hadbeen lifted and replaced by awe. Shortly after a nurse hadcleaned up our son and approached me. She asked if I’dlike to hold him. I replied, almost unconsciously, “No,that’s OK”—I had never held a newborn baby. She smiledat me knowingly, handed me my son and I just stared forwhat seemed like hours at this little life before me. My lifeas a dad had begun.
—Vincent Daly, blogger,CuteMonster
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Most dads have to let their kids go when they leave forcollege. I had to let go of my 10-year-old when I movedaway from the town where he lives with his mom. I wasterrified at leaving him, as I was used to seeing him at leastthree times a week. It hadn’t been easy, but my wife and Ihad dealt with six years of pick-ups and drop-offs, sudden
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