First Time Fatherhood

Most mothers won't care to hear any of this. As far as they are concerned, you always had the easier share of the pregnancy, in that you did nothing at all. Now that the baby is born, chances are that she is stuck at home, greasy-haired with stress and rage, while you swan off to work every morning, for what she regards as a jolly day out. 
 

First Time Fatherhood

If you are the sole breadwinner, as many men are, it does not matter that you have to worry about money or accommodation or the increasing likelihood that you will get sacked because your work is so poor because you never get any sleep at night. Your partner's eyes will glaze over long before you finish explaining. 

The following morning she will sit in a cafe eating cakes with other new mothers and they will ask each other, with sighs of infinite weariness, 'What use are fathers anyway?'  

WELL, WHAT USE ARE FATHERS ANYWAY? 

That is a very good question and I am very pleased you have asked it.
 
GO ON.
 
Yes, I am very pleased you have asked it, it being a very good question.

THANK YOU, BUT DO YOU INTEND TO ANSWER IT AT SOME POINT? 

I'd love to. But we fathers sometimes have a problem justifying our existence, beyond the obvious roles of provider, uncomplaining domestic slave, chauffeur and reader of bedtime stories with copious use of silly voices. Lesbians solved the problem decades ago with a turkey baster - so efficiently, in fact, that turkey basters now need a new name, as virtually no one uses them to baste turkeys any more. (Heterosexual women use them only to wield at their menfolk, while saying things like 'This would be more use than you are.') 

The absolute uselessness of men generally, and fathers specifically, has become a cornerstone of our popular culture, assumed to be true of us all unless we can individually prove otherwise. The Maternity Alliance - which sounds a terrifying organization, possibly paramilitary in outlook - published a useful pamphlet in 2000 called And Baby Makes Three: A Man's Guide To Becoming A Father. 'It is hard to find media portrayals ... that are heroic about fathers,' it said, accurately. 'Instead you get a load of unimpressive stereotypes:

• fathers work too hard and neglect their children.
• fathers abandon their families and refuse to pay maintenance.
• fathers are too ham-fisted to change a nappy properly. 
• fathers are distant, uncaring authority figures. 
• fathers are people with comic dress sense who like pottering in garden sheds. 
• fathers are like big kids: another person for the mother to look after.' 

This makes depressing reading for men, although being men, we all have to tot up and see how many of them apply to us. I declare here that none of them apply to me, although I admit I'd probably score one out of six if I possessed a garden shed. My girlfriend says I score two out of six with or without the shed. Thinking back a generation, I realize that my father scored an easy three, so however you look at it, I represent an improvement.

But it's never as simple as that. If these old-fashioned notions of fatherhood now seem ridiculous, what has replaced them can inspire even fiercer hostility. The touchy-feely New Man stereo type gives many of us the collywobbles, partly because it seems to represent someone so in touch with their feminine side that their masculine side has disappeared completely. 

This is the sort of man who will have willingly put on an Empathy Belly when his partner was pregnant. He will have been brilliant at the birth, massaging her shoulders until his thumbs had worn down to stumps, and taking her abuse on the chin without complaint. I hate him and I want to kick him, and so do most of the fathers I spoke to, even if he doesn't actually exist. To find out more, you can check out First Time Fatherhood.