Thirty things you should know about being a father

1 week ago 3

Opinion

September 6, 2025 — 5.30am

Ahead of Father’s Day (it’s on Sunday – you remembered, didn’t you?), here are 30 things I’ve learnt about being a father.

Try to see things from their point of view.

Say “yes” whenever possible, but when you say “no”, you have to stick to it.
Time behaves strangely: when standing in a corridor at three in the morning, rocking a child to sleep, an hour seems to last a decade. But then a real decade races by in what seems like an hour. That child who needed rocking is now 12, and that time in the hallway glows in the memory like treasure.
There is no waste dump as toxic as the area beneath a child’s car seat.
Buy five hats for each child because four hats will always be missing in action.
Don’t tell the child they are stupid or naughty or bad, as it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Use big words. If they don’t understand, they’ll ask. It shows the child that you respect them. And it will strengthen their vocabulary.
Try to see things from their point of view.
Take as many pictures of the subsequent children as you did of the first, or else there will be aggrieved questions later on. (Learnt the hard way.)
Forgive yourself if, when addressing the third child, you call her by her older sister’s name, then her younger sister’s name, then her cousin’s, then the dog’s. There are so many names to remember, and you’re under a lot of pressure.
Standing at the sink, “cleaning up” by eating all the leftovers on their plate, night after night for a decade, is a big mistake. (Learnt the hard way.)
Always have pipe cleaners, glue and ice-cream sticks on hand.
There is no sound louder than a creaking bedroom door when you’ve finally got them to sleep.
There is no dog as lucky as one sitting under a highchair when lunch is being eaten.
There is no peril greater than a Lego block underfoot at three in the morning. (Learnt the hard way.)
Forget the self-justifying phrase “quality time”. Children need “quantity time”, even if they’re just getting on with their own thing while you hang about.
Remember to deliver a daily dad joke such as, “Look! A cemetery! People are just dying to get in there”. It’s how your children realise you are an ordinary, flawed person, with your own weaknesses (i.e. not at all funny).
Beware of the child-rearing guidebooks or the interfering relatives who offer judgmental advice, whether it’s to be more strict/less strict, more scheduled/less scheduled. Every child is different, and most good parenting happens in a wide, forgiving zone between the extremes offered by various bystanders.
When driving through a country town, remember that it’s your job to point out the bleeding obvious, such as “Look, they’ve got a Bunnings”. It’s how your children realise you are an ordinary, flawed person, with their own weaknesses (i.e. not at all interesting).
Don’t be surprised if, at the zoo, the child finds the picture of the monkey on the rubbish bin more interesting than the actual monkey.
Don’t be surprised if, at Christmas, the child plays more with the cardboard box in which the present was packed than with the present itself.
When exasperated, admit you are exasperated. It’s how your children realise you are an ordinary, flawed person, with your own weaknesses (i.e. not at all saintly).
Walls are meant to be drawn on, and couches are meant to soak up spills. You can redecorate when they are 25 and have left home.
Don’t expect them to be mirror images of you.
A surprising amount of fun is available through the purchase of a toy tea set.
Study how their minds work and be amazed.
If your life and house have space for a pet, get one. A single guinea pig is a surprisingly good teacher.
Try to learn at least two songs. Through both children and grandchildren, I’ve had to make do with The Road to Gundagai, with the result that a single further rendition may tip me into insanity.
Don’t expect them to get off their devices if you never get off yours.
A Band-Aid, deftly applied, can cure all but the most serious of injuries.
Oh, and enjoy your adventure, in retrospect so brief.