NORTHERN PLANNER

Right now I'm struggling with my image. This weekend, I took young Will to the supermarket and, pushing him aruond, happily asleep and outragously cute, I got the nod from other thirty something Dads with their little bundles of joy.

Nothing has made me feel more pigeonholed into a demographic than pushing my boy around a grocery mult (apart from doing the same thing in a shopping mall). I'm the Mamas and Papas, combat trouser wearing, 'new man', cliche Dad.

Made me realise, there are not really that many positive images of young(ish) Dads out there – or horrendous cliches, many of which star in advertising. There are few that are both real and aspirational.

Also made me think how important it is to not lose your sense of self when you become a parent. There has to be at least one thing you keep for you. This is nothing compared to Juliette (Mrs Northern) of course, who's with him while I pootle off to work. Must remember to make sure she get's me time too.

There's a point around 5pm when you have to make a big tea decision. Do you make another pot, with all the warm, slow comfort that will bring (and perk you up for more stuff), with the risk you may be kept awake at night?

On the other hand, do you see sense and have something without caffeine (not decaff, don't do it I say!), safe in the knowledge you'll drop off untroubled?

It's a toughie. Thankfully, this is something I don't have to worry. The addition of silly 'o' clock baby feeds to the routine means I can sleep at will (and even lose the fight to stay awake at finance meetings – they call for ridiculously strong coffee).

There's a moment in every young man's life when Dad just being 'Dad' and becomes a person. You get some sense of how he feels about things, what he's going through, who he is. Luckily for me, that resulted in respect.

That happened to me soon after I graduated. I was having a lovely time working in a slightly posh gymn, training bored housewives and stuff.  A guy my Dad used to work with joined after being forced to take early retirement. He'd been a high flyer, really sharp, my Dad was a little envious of him (I realised years later).

He asked me how my Dad was and I said something like fine, and added a typical disparaging sarcastic comment, the kind of thing idiot, immature kids say. The smile disappeared from his face, he stared at me hard and said, "Don't ever make fun of your Dad, he's one of only four people in the country that can do his job. I was got rid of, there are hundreds of people that can do what I did, not your Dad, he deserves your respect".

Just like that I saw him a new light. I new he'd been talking about work laying people off and saw less of him as he seemed to work later and later and later. Seeing someone treat him with that much respect (awe even)threw up an image of my Dad – the man, rather than just 'Dad' I'd never seen before. Someone people looked up to. Someone with his own problems, issues and fears, someone I would do well to be half as good as.

I think that's the moment our relationship changed and we began to become friends. I soon started working properly, I could ask his advice, he could give it, we could both moan about the office and stuff. Two people, not just father and son.

I think that's why I hate those Gillette commercial with father's sagely passing on knowledge to their equally square jawed sons. It's just not that simple, it's much more complex than that. There's are pivotal moments, a weird sense of competition and hopefully love and respect. I guess that's the problem with testing stuff to death, you end up with a generic view of life and situations which isn't really true to life, it's had the nuance, drama and 'realness' taken out it, leaving a pale, lifeless imitation.