ONLY MAN STANDING

Who would've thought I'd love writing blogs? It's not the thought that they'll be read. Sure, if it connects with someone and provides clarity or direction, that's a wonderful bonus. But it's become a sort of journal for myself as well. And often, I find I end up serving myself a big ol' piece of humble pie in the process. Being a husband, being a dad, I'm not always the best example of practicing what I preach.

It's not easy being the only man standing in our household. I often joke that in my next life I'm owed a son. At family dinners, it's equally humoured that one of our daughters (when they find true love of their own) is expected to bring a grandson into the family. Now I firmly believe that we choose and accept the realities presented to us. But it doesn't eliminate the part of me that yearns for a little guy to coach and guide and influence. A buddy for Sunday football and a little target practice. A partner in crime. A little man to follow in my footsteps. Or at least see where they've been and where they lead to.

But I am (willingly) where I have chosen to be. The father to four very unique and very beautiful daughters. Two chosen for me by the powers that be. Two I choose to love as if they were my own.

You wouldn't think I'd have to remind myself that I live in a house full of women. The reminders are everywhere. Literally EVERYWHERE. But I sometimes need to be roped in and educated that raising young women requires a more gentle approach.

As a father, I would describe myself as a loving and protective man who would stop at nothing for the well-being of these young girls. Depending on the day and the daughter, you'd probably get a different answer from them. And my wife? Well, she'd tell you my heart's in the right place and full of good intentions and then move on to the next conversation.

Before I met Shannon the way I was with my girls was a lot different than the way I am now. Lots of physical interaction - horsing around, wrestling, play-fighting, rough-housing - we did it all. It was the only way that I knew. There was no gentle approach. Gentle came with tuck-ins with a hug and kiss goodnight. And even that was more tickles and goofing off. I wanted my girls to be tough, to be able to handle themselves. Maybe it was the deep-down desire to have a son to raise. Maybe it was all I knew because it worked for me. More than likely it was a combination of the two.

Shannon was most certainly intrigued by my approach when we first met. And her daughters were definitely not accustomed to the rough and tumble approach witnessed with my girls. Shannon brought a quality to my girl's lives that I lacked. Grace. Their mother isn’t known to be the most graceful of women. My girls were able to see another female role model in a new light. My wife exemplified goodness and kindness while showing a hard work ethic in all she did. But she did it all with grace and character. Even in her early struggles as a stepmom, she was able to shine through and connect on some level with them.

Shannon brought a new sense of order that understood my protective instinct but also spoke to them as young women. It's a connection that still exists today. More importantly, Shannon helped me understand that these little girls were going to become little women. It helped define my role and direction as a father.

It's not acceptable to just burst through the bedroom door and scare them. Their room is a place of privacy where they can take ownership. Boundary established. It's not acceptable to sneak up from behind and tickle them or wrestle with them whenever I feel like it. They're young women now and their bodies are to be respected as their own. Boundary established.

The girls still witness my rough and rugged side but instead of being on the receiving end of it, they see my positive display of it. Doing hard chores around the house and yard. Working out with weights or boxing in the basement. Rooting and hollering for my favorite teams on Sunday. Often, they'll participate with me in any one of these or more activities. It’s an amazing feeling seeing the influence my wife and I have on them. Boxing and sparring in the basement and then upstairs in the kitchen baking goodies. That's a good balance right there.

There are times they will sneak up on me and initiate an impromptu wrestle or tickle session. But as soon as the white flag is raised and they cry out for me to stop it's important to recognize the boundary they've identified. Not only do I want them to witness my strength but also my reservation.

I want to be an example, a role model by whom they will judge all other men in their lives. Teachers, coaches, boys, employers, and eventually, husbands. I want them to see rugged masculinity as a virtue. But I want them to understand that I have it under control. And that I'm not afraid or too proud to show grace as well.

And when that grandson eventually comes into the picture, I'll be sure that my footsteps lead him down the right path as well.

Mike - The Herdfather