I was concerned that when we had a child I’d become soppy. There was a genuine risk, I thought, that I’d start to view my whole life through this saccharine lens. This fear prompted a host of questions. Would my legendary cynicism take a hit? By some miracle, would I become more humble? What would happen to the street cred I’ve nurtured for years? (Is street cred even a phrase anymore?)
Well, I’m pleased to report that my cynicism is in rude health, my ego still oscillates like a seismometer during a high-magnitude earthquake, and I never had any street cred to begin with.
But I have become soppier. I’ve started to really notice other children, particularly ones around the same age as Amber. I’m happy to shun grown-up conversation in favour with playing peek-a-boo with said infants, which probably says a lot about my level of maturity. But most alarmingly of all, I gain so much pleasure from our daughter’s little smiles.
They were a long time coming for Daddy, I can tell you now. Whilst Mummy was bestowed with non wind-induced grins from around the 4-week mark, as hard as I tried all I could get were blank stares or a trembling bottom lip. As completely illogical as it is, it was heartbreaking that all my efforts weren’t met with positive feedback.
And so I did what any new dad would do in my situation: I searched for answers on the internet. One blog I found recommended that a good way for dads to bond with their children is to make funny faces and noises at them. In short, be childish. I can do that, I thought. After all, I’m the big kid who, at the age of 29, is still collecting those Lego cards that Sainsbury’s are currently giving away. Making a few silly faces is certainly within my comfort zone.
A few blown raspberries and tummy scratches later (Amber’s, not mine), and I had my first grin. Granted, she was probably only laughing at my stupidity. That hasn’t escaped me. Even so, that first smile was one of the most fantastic sights I’ve ever seen, right up there with when legendary composer Koji Kondo stepped on stage at The Legend of Zelda 25th Anniversary concert a few years back. My wife can attest to how special that was for me, even if she didn’t quite appreciate the significance herself.
Since that first smile I’ve been blessed with plenty more, and every single one has been a joy to see. There is something so pure about them, coming from such an innocent little person. Lately, the odd one or two haven’t even required funny noises and/or stupid faces.
Although I’m obviously influenced somewhat by the fact she’s my daughter, seeing her little grins did remind me of how valuables a smile can be. It always feels as if we have lots going on in our busy modern lives, much of them, it must be said, spent within the confines of our phones. But taking a moment to smile at someone really can make a difference to their day, and it has a habit of making you feel good about yourself, too. As long as you mean it, that is. And you haven’t just made a funny face to get the smile.