Stund Arse

Sometimes it takes me a while to master the obvious.  It's probably because I tend to ignore things unless or until they impact my life in some way, shape or form..  It's a truism that when something has an impact on our lives, whether positively or negatively, it is only at that point do many of us take notice.  As I said, I've been slow on the uptake a few times in my life.  Thankfully, there are loved ones around who have helped to keep me grounded and have been more than willing to give me a "duff in the arse" whenever I have needed it most. Perhaps I'm being a little hard on myself.  I'm not stund all of the time, just some of it. (And yes, that is the correct spelling of "stund", at least here in Newfoundland.  To spell it as "stunned" would be....., well, stund!)

My one shining example of an event that impacted my life was when babies arrived in our household around 12 and 10 years ago.  I was at an extremely busy point of my policing career.  I was spearheading a new program for the RCMP in Ontario and was partnered with two drug sniffing dogs, Bandit and Max.  These Labs were with me 24-7.  Their ability to perform well was solely my responsibility and one that I took seriously.  There was no down time and no relaxing weekends with family and friends as there was always exercise needed for the dogs, obedience sessions or drug detection training to undertake.  That is not to mention the after hours call outs to help combat crime and the hundreds of demonstrations my furry partners and I did for just about every conceivable kids' group, school and charitable organization within hailing distance.  Oh yeah, I also punched a regular forty hour work week sniffing around Toronto International Airport..

I had an inkling that life as I knew it was about to change when the kids arrived.  It was just the wrong inkling.  I erroneously figured life was about to get a little easier, at least for a while.  After all, Lynda would be off on maternity leave.  For a year after each of the kids were born she would be home all day.   No longer would she have to leave the house so early each weekday morning to beat the insufferable rush hour traffic as she and the rest of the suburbanites made their way from Burlington to Mississauga, only to repeat the process to get home each evening.  With so much more free time,  Lynda would be able to cook, clean and be the perfect mother to our children (and to me!).  Surely a hot breakfast awaited me each morning.  The added bonus was that I would have all of this extra time to devote to my job and passion, which was playing..... I mean working with my detector dogs.

Reality turned out to be vastly different from the world I had envisioned.  Who knew that a new mom actually sleeps very little and she even has to get up a couple of times a night to feed the baby?  I had encouraged Lynda to breastfeed.  It seemed like the perfect situation - free food and a delivery system that didn't involve me so I would sleep soundly and be well rested for work the next day.  Plus it provided a chance for Lynda to bond with the kids, which was important because I wouldn't be home too much because  I  planned to spend more time perfecting my craft as a dog handler and making the streets safer for my children.  I was the one making the big sacrifice in the relationship.  Right?  Wrong again. Another duff in the arse for me.

On the breastfeeding issue, my advice to new dads or those of you who will be a daddy sometime in the future is simple.  Listen to your partner - she will have already researched this to death and have spoken with her mother, sisters,  and girlfriends, so you have nothing important to add; look her in the eye and nod a lot when she talks to you about her position on whether or not to breastfeed; whatever feeding choice you make as a couple, tell her that it's the best one for your child (and tell her that again and again); lastly, watch and help out as much as you can.  Watching and holding your baby are two of life's simple and most joyous pleasures.  Even I figured that one out before it was too late.

So when did the light come on entirely for me?  When did I finally realize that Lynda, Kendall and Avery were better off having a husband and father at home rather than a workaholic, slave to the man, poop scooping, dog loving, public servant who called his mobile dog pen home?  Perhaps it was 10 years ago, soon after Avery was born?  That was when I resigned as a dog handler and turned my dogs over to officers who I hoped would care about them as much as I had.  Perhaps it was four years ago when I realized that even though I no longer had a dog for a partner, I was spending even more time on the trail of the scoundrels who use the drug trade and the human weakness that supports it as a means to line their pockets with material riches?  Or maybe it was two years ago when I finally left my policing career?  The oath I took 23 years ago and the weight of the badge I carried in my wallet were lifted from my shoulders when I finally retired.  In the subsequent two years I have continued to "untrain" myself from looking at everyone and everything from a policeman's perspective. It's work-in-progress, but it sure is liberating.

I guess the true answer is I'm still learning to be the best husband and father I can be.  I am so lucky to have an understanding partner (the two legged variety) and awesome kids.  I'd be the first to fully understand if ever one, or all of them, comes up to me and says "Daddy, why were you so stund for all those years?" and then proceeds to give me a good duff in the arse.  I earned it.