Bad Parent: Face-Off
Fights I've had with my three month old.
by Elisha Cooper
December 26, 2006
Round three, a week later. This time doesn't even involve milk — we
fight just for the sake of fighting. Elise and I are at a friend's house in
Oakland for dinner. Zoë starts crying and I walk outside to, in theory,
calm her. I lose my composure in an instant. It's not quite clear to me why.
Even as I half-heartedly sing, let her suck my arm, point out the moon, she
knows I am upset and everything I do just makes her madder. She starts hyperventilating.
She's glaring right into my eyes. I'm glaring right back. It's like we're facing
each other from either end of a dusty street in a Western, only instead
of pistols we have similar genes.
I rarely got into fights growing up. The few ones I was in I lost. In second
grade it was Casey Neil. I remember both of us grabbing the other one's nose
and not letting go (I guess that one was a draw). In fourth grade, I got beaten
up by a child actor whose child-actor brother played the adorable kid in Terms
of Endearment. In high school, even though I played football, I wasn't
that tough. When teammates fought, I was the guy who tried to separate everyone
and then got squashed himself. In college, where I played football too, I once
lined up across from a defensive back and when he snarled, "I'm going
to fuck your mother after the game," I remember thinking, "Wait,
how does he know my mother?" So I don't think of myself as a fighter.
But here I am in what feels like the fight of my life. A battle with a baby. I'm fighting a thing the size of a Muppet who makes me angrier than I have ever been. As I walk down the street in Oakland I am yelling (under my breath though, so as not to arouse suspicion), Stop it! Stop crying! And just before the urge to throw Zoë in the bushes becomes more than an urge, I think about my goats.
I had five goats on the farm in Connecticut where I grew up. When they were
babies I nursed them from a bottle. I milked them every morning once they were
grown. And every day I took them for walks. They were well behaved, except
when they didn't want to be. Sometimes, before coming back to the barn, they
would
stop and eat my father's apple trees. They weren't supposed to and they knew
it. One goat who doesn't want to be caught is difficult to catch; catching
five goats working together is impossible. And a small apple tree can be eaten
quickly. I'm fighting a thing the size of a Muppet who makes me angrier than I have ever been.
So, one by one, I tackled the goats and dragged them back to the barn hard
by their necks. I remember the sound of their hoofs scattering the dirt, and
I
remember how scary it felt to get so angry. How easy it was for me to turn
into a brute. It was something I felt awful about then, and even now.
When I remember this, I realize that while I may not be a fighter, I have
a temper. I have the ability to snap, a terrible thing to have as a parent.
I also realize that Zoë, with her grownup features and full head of hair,
is only three months old. I forget that she is not crying to spite me, that
I
am entirely responsible for her, that she's not a goat. That's she's my daughter.
So I bring Zoë back in my mind from her imaginary trip to the bushes, and bring her close into my arms, and take a deep breath, and think, who am I really fighting? Am I fighting my daughter, or my short temper? The answer is sad and obvious. It's me on me. I'm fighting myself, and taking a pummeling.
What saved me on that street in Oakland was recognizing that at some deep
level I am flawed (that and the prospect of jail time), knowing that the flaws
I have are my own, and that this girl and I will be joined together for a long,
long time, for years, and that if I can just ride it out for the next five
minutes, and for the five minutes after that, we will be okay and may even
put down our weapons and ride happily into the Western sunset.
This is an excerpt from Crawling: A Father's First Year
.
©2006 Elisha Cooper and Nerve Media
About the Author
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Elisha Cooper is a children's book author and illustrator. His most recent book is a memoir, published this fall by Pantheon Books,
entitled Crawling: A Father's First Year. |
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