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September 8, 2004 "Mr. Dad" Sees Slow Evolution in Father's Role By Mike Cassidy It's somehow comforting that the instant I reach Mr. Dad by phone, his kid turns on the Dustbuster. They just know, don't they? And when I arrive at the Oakland house, where he works from home with nanny help, a stroller blocks the front door. Toys are scattered across the living room. And Mr. Dad, a.k.a. Armin Brott, looks as if he hasn't found time for a shower, though this isn't the sort of column to dwell on personal details. The point is, the man is a dad, an honest-to-goodness, care-for-the-kids dad. He has made a career of it, which is both very clever and very helpful to other dads trying to navigate fatherhood. Brott, who lives with his wife and three daughters, has written or co-written six books on fatherhood. He takes the dad's side, not that there are sides, of course. He writes an advice column and hosts a weekly radio show and a Web site, www.mrdad.com Real-life experience. "It really was an accident in a way,'' Brott says. OK, not completely, but he's not a psychologist or a therapist. He's a dad, whose expertise comes from life. Brott, 46, has three daughters. His first was born 14 years ago and another three years later. ("The Expectant Father.'' "The New Father.'') His kids grew. ("A Dad's Guide to the Toddler Years.'') He divorced. ("The Single Father.'' "Throwaway Dads.'') He remarried. And 16 months ago, had another child. ("Father for Life.'') He's in a good spot to survey the fatherhood scene. "I've got the 14-year-old who hates me,'' he says, "and the 1-year-old who can't live without me.'' (He's kidding about hate, but you get his drift.) So, I ask, just what is the state of fatherhood? "I see a change, a perceptible change from 15 years ago when I started doing this. But not as much as I'd like.'' No longer unusual Sure, there is more literature for dads now. And some bosses are more open to men cutting hours to spend time with their families. Stay-at-home dads are no longer considered suitable for a carnival freak show. But strangers still ask Brott if he's "babysitting'' when he's out with his kids during the day. And pop-culture role models remain scarce. (Homer Simpson, anyone?) Even commercials seem to portray child-rearing as women's work. "Choosy moms choose Jif.'' `If you want peanut butter, or something to eat,'' Brott says, "don't go to Dad, because he doesn't know what he's talking about.'' Brott calls it the other glass ceiling -- the glass ceiling at home, where dads are allowed to help up to a point. How often, he asks, do you see a mother take a crying baby from a father, as if to say, `I'll handle this?' '' Gender roles persist, subconsciously or unconsciously, Brott argues. There is mother turf and father turf. Moms need to give up some control of child-rearing and let dads do it their way, make mistakes even, Brott says. Maybe you don't see yourself in this picture. Maybe you think Brott is simply talking talk. Just remember, whatever you think, you can't deny that Brott walks the walk -- sometimes stepping over toys as he goes. |
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