Leah McLaren
The first stoner dad I met was my neighbour, Joe.
Joe is in his mid-30s, lives with his wife (a checkout clerk at our local grocery store), and is the primary carer for their two-year-old daughter.
Most mornings, after Joe’s wife leaves for work, he sits in the backyard while his daughter plays, drinking a mug of coffee while languidly smoking a large, pungent joint. The smell wafts in through my office window, but Joe – who, in his dungarees, goatee and trucker cap, looks like something out of a Cheech and Chong movie – has never done anything to hide his morning weed habit.
If I catch his eye over the garden fence, he just smiles and waves, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to be hauling on a fatty while singing The Wheels on the Bus at 9 a.m. on a Tuesday morning.
At first I judged him. But after observing
Joe for more than a year, I must acknowledge he’s a great dad:
attentive, cheerful and engaged without hovering or being anxious. His
daughter, a smiling, confident little chatterbox, does not show signs of
being the neglected child of a chronic drug user. In fact, she seems
closer to her father than most kids that age.
Watching
her flourish under his benevolent, weed-baked gaze has made me wonder:
Is marijuana the new Mother’s Little Helper for the emerging generation
of stay-home dads?
Since meeting Joe,
I’ve spotted stoner dads everywhere. The guy on paternity leave, loping
down the street, pushing a buggy with one hand and smoking a doob with
the other. Two dudes on the park bench overseeing an afternoon play date
and passing a pinner.
A group of fathers at a Sunday afternoon backyard barbecue, sharing a joint on a picnic blanket before dispersing to change diapers or jump on the trampoline with the kids while their wives drink wine and chat over the grill.
A group of fathers at a Sunday afternoon backyard barbecue, sharing a joint on a picnic blanket before dispersing to change diapers or jump on the trampoline with the kids while their wives drink wine and chat over the grill.
Statscan
doesn’t track numbers of pot-head parents in Canada (funny that), but
it has tracked the rising number of stay-at-home dads in Canada in
recent decades. In 1976, dads stayed home in only 2 per cent of couples
with at least one child under 16; by 2014, that number climbed to 11 per
cent.
As well, one-fifth of Canadians stated in a recent phone poll by Forum Research that they smoked pot last year, and 59 per cent said they support some form of legalization.
As well, one-fifth of Canadians stated in a recent phone poll by Forum Research that they smoked pot last year, and 59 per cent said they support some form of legalization.
Matt
Austin, a Toronto-based writer-director and father of a toddler and an
eight-year-old, said he sees no harm in using pot to relax while tending
to his kids at the end of a long day.
“When I’m a little stoned, I’m thinking less of all the things in my life that cause me anxiety, and I’m able to be present and creative with my children,” he said. “For me, it’s an end-of-day thing, when I know I don’t need to be on full parent and responsibility alert.”
“When I’m a little stoned, I’m thinking less of all the things in my life that cause me anxiety, and I’m able to be present and creative with my children,” he said. “For me, it’s an end-of-day thing, when I know I don’t need to be on full parent and responsibility alert.”
Then
there’s my friend Kevin (not his real name). Kevin and his wife moved to
Los Angeles from London last year after she got a job in a new design
firm. As Kevin waits for his American work visa to come through, he’s
become primary carer for the couple’s five-year-old daughter – a job he
unapologetically combines with the occasional (read: almost daily)
mid-afternoon joint around the backyard pool.
“It sounds a bit wanky to say,” he said, “but it helps me get right down to her level and play, like I did when I was her age.”
Kevin added that he’s always conscious of his intake and that, after years of pot-smoking, he knows how to moderate his dose for maximum effect. “By the time bedtime rolls around, my buzz has worn off and I’m back to nagging her to brush her teeth like any boring parent.”
“It sounds a bit wanky to say,” he said, “but it helps me get right down to her level and play, like I did when I was her age.”
Kevin added that he’s always conscious of his intake and that, after years of pot-smoking, he knows how to moderate his dose for maximum effect. “By the time bedtime rolls around, my buzz has worn off and I’m back to nagging her to brush her teeth like any boring parent.”
Plenty of
mothers smoke pot too, of course, but many do it at adult parties, on
the sly, or after the kids have gone to bed. For mothers, the stereotype
has long been “mommy juice,” the cheeky bottle of chardonnay, cracked
open at the end of the after-school play date or during the preparation
of buttered pasta before dinner. That or the soul-calming effects of
anti-anxiety pills such as Xanax and Lorazepam.
The
difference with some of these pot-enthusiast dads is that they don’t
view their drug of choice as a mere escapist crutch. In moderation, they
see it as an effective aid in the difficult and often emotionally
taxing job of being a parent.
“The fact
is, weed makes playtime more fun, suppertime more delicious, bathtime
more relaxing and storytime more interesting,” one Toronto-based
pot-smoking father of two who wished to remain nameless told me in a
phone interview this week. “What’s not to like?”
Given
that pot is now legally used in a medicinal capacity in many countries
in the world, including Canada, it is no more taboo than alcohol
consumption where parenting and daily life is concerned.
And yet, old social habits die hard. If I saw a group of parents standing around at a toddler’s birthday party sipping mimosas, I’d applaud (and probably reach for one myself). If they were passing around a bong, however, I’d find it hard to conceal my horror. This isn’t because I don’t smoke pot (it makes me queasy), but because I associate it with illegality.
And yet, old social habits die hard. If I saw a group of parents standing around at a toddler’s birthday party sipping mimosas, I’d applaud (and probably reach for one myself). If they were passing around a bong, however, I’d find it hard to conceal my horror. This isn’t because I don’t smoke pot (it makes me queasy), but because I associate it with illegality.
But
with the Liberal government keen to decriminalize or even legalize pot
completely, that view seems soon to be outdated. After all, most of us
shamelessly drink around our kids, and yet excessive alcohol consumption
is strongly linked to all sorts of dysfunctional behaviour and social
problems (domestic abuse, child neglect, excessive verbal conflict, to
name a few).
According to a report by the U.S. National Institute on Drug Abuse, the main social problem caused by chronic cannabis use is increased professional absences and decreased productivity and work performance. Which raises the question: Outside of an office environment, could small doses of marijuana actually help parents relate better to their children?
According to a report by the U.S. National Institute on Drug Abuse, the main social problem caused by chronic cannabis use is increased professional absences and decreased productivity and work performance. Which raises the question: Outside of an office environment, could small doses of marijuana actually help parents relate better to their children?
Writing in
The New York Times a couple of years back, the art dealer Mark Wolfe
argued that since receiving a prescription for medicinal marijuana his
back pain and insomnia had improved and, surprisingly, so had his
parenting: “I swear I am a more loving, attentive and patient father
when I take my medication as prescribed.”
Cannabis,
he added, enhances the user’s ability to relax, slow down and perceive
beauty in otherwise mundane aspects of life. This mood-altering effect,
he wrote, “can be enormously salutary to the parent-toddler
relationship. Beyond food, shelter and clothing, what do small children
need most from their parents? Sustained, loving, participatory
attention.”
Canadian doctors aren’t yet
prescribing pot lollipops for parenting-related stress, but the future
for ganja enthusiasts is looking bright. In the meantime, on the back
decks of the nation, Daddy’s Little Helper persists. As Austin points
out, “Why is it okay for moms to joke about ‘wine o’clock’ but we can’t
talk about taking the edge off with pot?”
You’ve got a point there dad. Now pass the pb&j and stop harshing my mellow.
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