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KINGS AND HIS DAUGHTER VALI
KINGS AND HIS DAUGHTER VALI

ParentsNovember 17, 2016

Rapper KINGS and dad blogger Ben Tafau chat about their lives as single fathers

KINGS AND HIS DAUGHTER VALI
KINGS AND HIS DAUGHTER VALI

Two solo dads chat about the joys and challenges of parenting and how life changed forever when their daughters were born. One is Vodafone NZ Music Awards Breakthrough Artist of the Year nominee KINGS, the man responsible for the smash hit ‘Don’t Worry ‘Bout It’. The other is Ben Tafau, author of the popular blog 1 Player Dad and champion for single dads everywhere.

While in Fiji late last year, Kingsdon Chapple-Wilson shot an impromptu music video, using nothing but his iPhone, to accompany his then-unreleased track ‘Don’t Worry ‘Bout It’. The song, released under the name KINGS, grew an underground fan base before skyrocketing to success. At the time of writing it has had over 2.5 million streams on Spotify, almost 700,000 views on YouTube and has gone platinum on the New Zealand singles and radio airplay charts.

Ben Tafau is a single dad to daughter Esme and one of New Zealand’s favourite dad bloggers. Both Kings and Ben share care of their daughters so they have plenty in common. Here they chat about the ups and downs of being dads, their parenting styles, and what it means to be truly selfless.

Ben: Hey Kings, you’ve been doing really well with your music lately, congrats! How long have you been in the game for?

Kings: You know how it is with Māoris, singing at maraes all the time! But the proper passion in turning it into an actual business, where I could make some money, happened as soon as my daughter was born. I thought “I can either do this properly, or I could go get a job” and I just was like yeah, I think I have the resources and talent to do it, so I just stuck in the hard yards.

I dropped out of school when I was 17 and studied music at MAINZ (the Music and Audio Institute of New Zealand), graduated the first year, was about to graduate the second year and ended up moving to Australia with my mum. I had moved away from everyone at an age where I was supposed to be set, I felt really out of place and I had to relearn myself so I spent all that time in the studio learning how to make music. I came back to New Zealand, got the missus pregnant (laughs), and then that was the decision – I saw that I could provide for bub doing this, it’s just going to take time. And that’s where me and (my daughter’s mum) kinda didn’t see eye to eye, she said “You gotta do something now” and I was like “Nah, I got this! You just gotta trust me!”

I formed a record label with my dad, and started out doing things like jingle work for commercials, did a lot of stuff in Malaysia, did some stuff for Les Mills, I had a lot of projects ticking over. The money was really up and down, over the last six years I was on and off the benefit while I was trying to make it. About two to three years ago I just really focused, chucked everything in and said “nah, I gotta do this” and three years later, signed to a major label!

KINGS
KINGS

That’s a big call to make when you’ve got a young baby to provide for

My mum wasn’t too supportive of the idea either, she was more traditional: ‘the man makes the money and the mum stays home’ and I was like ‘Nah… guys, I’ve got this, please!’ That’s kinda why even when I did get signed and everything started happening, I didn’t actually celebrate until like four weeks after because it didn’t hit me properly. And it’s not even like it’s stopped yet, it was just a huge milestone that I didn’t really take the time to soak in it and be like “Shit man, you did what you said you were going to do!”

You were like “I’m still grinding, I’m still hustling…”

Yeah, exactly bro. And it’s just gone up and up from there – booked my first big shows, which is a lot of money that I’d never seen before, so I look at that and it was worth it, all the hard shit… It’s been a journey man.

So you were the primary caregiver of your daughter after you separated from her mum – how did you find balancing your career as a musician with your life as a single dad?

I stay up ‘til like 4am or 5am working on my music – I’ll do the whole dad buzz, then go to the studio or get on the laptop and just tutu around ‘til 4 in the morning, get up, take my daughter to daycare, go back home, and that was my entire life. Still to this day I still stay up til around 4am-5am and just grind, it’s become a habit.

Are you a vampire or something? When does the sleep come in?!

Haha! I was just so determined I guess – not even to prove the naysayers wrong, I was just determined to do it. I told everyone I was going to do it, I saw the vision and I just did it. Of course, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without support from family – whenever I needed to do anything, like a gig was on, Mum would be there, Dad would be there to help me.

BEN TAFAU AND HIS DAUGHTER ESME
BEN TAFAU AND HIS DAUGHTER ESME

How were your friends during this time when you were on the grind, balancing your music and your life as a single dad as well as being a young guy – were they accepting of you being a dad and trying to get your career off the ground?

When I had a kid, my priorities had to change – [in the past] I was going to town, trying to find a girl, and that had to stop. Well, not so much stop, but I just had to prioritise properly. So it went from the number one priority to like the number three priority. I’d still go out and do that every now and then, but I just had less time for the bros. They all understood the situation though, they just let it be what it was. They stopped hollering at me to come out all the time, but then I’d holla at them when I was able to come out and they’d be like “Oh cool, Kings is coming out!”

Nice, so they were still there for you when you were available to hang out?

Yeah, they understood that, and cos I was starting this label, it was just a huge grind. All my true friends from day one are still with me, and now they’re kinda like “Woah, yeah man, you did it – let’s go for a beer now”

Your shout now! So what’s the biggest thing that’s helped you in your role as a single dad?

I gotta give credit to the family, man, they helped out so much because I was like a pig out of mud – they were a great support system. I live with my dad at the moment, and he was out of the picture for a while when Mum had full custody of us kids until I was about 12. When I reconnected with my dad, we turned out to be like best friends. It was awesome, because as a guy you really need that male energy around you.

Did you find you had to deal with any stereotypes when people learned you were a single dad?

Yeah, people are like “Oh…I thought it would be the weekends” and I’m like “Nah bo!”

It’s interesting when people find out I have a daughter and they ask how often I see her, and I say ‘four nights a week’ and they’re like “Oh!” like it’s always a surprise to them.

I’d be happy to have my daughter full time, but it’s also cool to have that split custody to give me a break.

Yeah, you definitely need those breaks! It’s fortunate that I have those nights during the week where I can be like “I’m not a parent tonight” and I can do my own thing to help keep that balance in my life. What’s the biggest challenge/hardest thing you find in working as a single dad?

The hardest thing was probably trying parent the way I think I should, versus parenting based on the way that I was taught. We were taught things differently as a kid, like when some parents say “don’t sit on the table, don’t do this, don’t do that”. Or cultural things. And I kinda wanna distance myself from that so it’s not me parenting her the way I was taught, and more just kinda guiding her, you know? Instead of being like “Do this, cos I’m the adult”, be more like “You should do this because (of this reason).”

KINGS AND HIS DAUGHTER VALI
KINGS AND HIS DAUGHTER VALI

I remember when I was young, in the car there’s a handle on the side of the steering column that you can use to lift it up and down, I didn’t know what it was and I was like “Dad, what’s that?” and he’s like “Don’t touch it” and I was like “Oh, OK…” Later on I worked out what it was for, but it was like ‘just tell me what it is, then tell me not to touch it’ – explain to me ‘if you pull that and you get it out of alignment, then it can be dangerous when you’re driving, and the car might crash etc’ and that’s cool, because I learn something. But don’t just say: “Don’t do it,” because that doesn’t teach me anything!

Yeah, the biggest challenge for me was trying to develop my parenting style where I wasn’t being just forceful, I was actually being a parent and trying to guide her in the right direction.

I have a similar challenge where sometimes I lose my patience a bit when my daughter’s not listening and I raise my voice at her. The cool thing about her is that she might react to me losing my patience, but then two seconds later she’d be like “oh yeah, all goods” as if it never happened. And I’ll be like “oh phew!” And then I’ll apologise and say “Sorry darling, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, Daddy’s just a little bit tired and it’s hard to do things on my own sometimes…” and she’s like “huh…ok yeah cool OH LOOK OVER THERE can I have some chocolate?!” just like, total distraction! And I’m stoked that her instant forgiveness helps me when my parenting reactions aren’t too flash.

That’s cool man, I don’t know if that’s common, it’s cool that you do that. I think that’s how it should be man.

I think that’s one of the things that I’ve tried to do in terms of bridging the way we were taught versus the way we want to, or the way we should, parent. Maybe it is more common nowadays, but this is the first conversation I’ve ever had about it so I don’t know!

I’ve talked to some other dads about it, and they’ve got real traditional mentalities about it, like “What I say in the house goes” and I’m like cool man, but you’ve gotta think about their future, not yours!

It’s like – well, if you do it that way, all they’re gonna do is live in fear of doing something wrong and not knowing why it might be wrong, but if you teach them and explain things to them, you allow them to think and make decisions. My daughter’s really well behaved, which is a good thing because it would made this single dad thing a helluva lot harder, maybe 5 percent of the time she can be a little shit but most of the time she’s awesome, and I think part of that is due to not trying to “rule by force”.

My mum used to do this thing when we used to go to other people’s houses, where she’d say “don’t be rude” and “shush”, so growing up whenever I’d go to other people’s houses I’d be really overly shy, like too shy, to the point where they’d be like “Are you OK?” and I’d whisper “Oh yeah.” She didn’t realise how much of an impact it made on me until I told her, and she was like “Wow, sorry!”

BEN AND ESME
BEN AND ESME

Trying to be a parent these days, I was going to say there’s no manual, but there’s actually so much stuff out there nowadays in books, on the internet, social media etc, that it’s almost too confusing, and you’ve gotta find your own way.

The way I’ve raised my daughter is to ask questions and I’ll always try to answer them, you know how kids always ask random questions? I always try to answer them as fully as I can. I’ll even Google them to find the answer. You know the dent at the top of your lip? It’s called a philtrum. The only reason I know that is because she asked me a question that I didn’t know, and I Googled it. So now we both know!

I do a similar thing too, when my daughter asks me a question and the answer might be a bit beyond her understanding, I’ll just tell her anyway. The answer might go over her head, but that information might also get absorbed somehow. Kind of talking to her like an adult, in a way.

Even with stuff like politics, we go into town down Queen Street and she’ll see homeless people and I’ll tell her to go give them some money, and she’ll be like “Why does he need money?” and I’ll say “Because he doesn’t have a home” and she’ll go “Oh no!” She’s still got that care for other people, and that’s the one thing that I’m like “Please, don’t lose that!”

What was the biggest change in you when you became a Dad?

That was straight up, just becoming not just about myself. I thought I was selfless when it came to my partner but I didn’t really know selflessness until I had a child. Now I could actually give her everything and not even want anything in return. Like full unconditional love, you know what I mean? That’s probably the biggest and most beautiful lesson I’ve learned that changed my life. Looking at that love, I realised in all my other relationships with anybody else – family members, business people – I approach them now with a more mature way. Like in negotiations with these contracts with major labels it’s helped me develop a mana, or an inner strength, that helps me say no when I need to say no, and say yes when I need to say yes. Because it’s not just about me now, I need to make bigger calls. It’s more than confidence, it’s like I’ve got someone more to live for now.

KINGS AND VALI
KINGS AND VALI

OK, one last dad question before we finish up: What’s your favourite thing about being a dad?

Ooh. Favourite thing? The love, man. The love. You can’t even put a word to it, the days when you feel purposeless, and you just look at your child, and you’re like: “That’s right.” I can’t even picture my life before, to be honest. Before I was a dad I couldn’t picture my life now, but now it’s like, I can’t go to a carpark and drink 12% Codys, and hang outside of clubs anymore, you know?

The best thing is that reassurance and love just from a look, or from a hug, and it’s like “Oh yeah, I’m in the right place.” Especially when you have those long days at work, and they come home and ask you questions like “Hey dad, why is the sky blue today?” and you can just sit there and talk to your daughter and just enjoy that love.

KINGS is a nominee for ‘Breakthrough Artist of the Year’, ‘Single of the Year’ and ‘People’s Choice’ at the 2016 Vodafone New Zealand Music Awards, taking place on November 17. His self-titled EP is released on November 25. The EP features ‘Don’t Worry Bout It’, the new single ‘What We Supposed To Do’ and four other tracks.


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A photo of Billie Holiday at the entrance of Storyville nightclub in Boston, Mass. Photo by Yoon S. Byun/The Boston Globe via Getty Images
A photo of Billie Holiday at the entrance of Storyville nightclub in Boston, Mass. Photo by Yoon S. Byun/The Boston Globe via Getty Images

ParentsNovember 16, 2016

No Holiday: On the decision about whether to have ‘another’

A photo of Billie Holiday at the entrance of Storyville nightclub in Boston, Mass. Photo by Yoon S. Byun/The Boston Globe via Getty Images
A photo of Billie Holiday at the entrance of Storyville nightclub in Boston, Mass. Photo by Yoon S. Byun/The Boston Globe via Getty Images

It can start pretty quickly after your first child is born, that simple but annoying question: ‘So are you going to have a second baby?’. Simon Sweetman writes about hopes, expectations, and making one really big decision.

I always wanted a daughter named Billie. Simple really. As soon as I heard Billie Holiday’s voice I was sold. Her voice, that sound, and the idea of her name being Billie – it all just hung in the air there for me. I wanted, nearly 100 years after Holiday’s birth, for it to be my tribute. I get as close as I ever get to crying when I hear her voice. But we knew we were having a son. We had no names for boys. Besides they all sounded like something you’d name a dog. Otis. Hugo. Rufus. Mongrel…We settled on Oscar. Happy with our decision, we returned home from the hospital. A week later we heard the neighbours whistle for their wee dog: “Oscar! Oscar!”

A photo of Billie Holiday at the entrance of Storyville nightclub in Boston, Mass. Photo by Yoon S. Byun/The Boston Globe via Getty Images
A photo of Billie Holiday at the entrance to Storyville nightclub in Boston, Mass. Photo by Yoon S. Byun/The Boston Globe via Getty Images

Our Oscar’s life has been a charmed one. His dad working at home and introducing him to all the music he’ll ever need and far more. A mother who could not love him more. We know we spoil him. He’s so very precious. He didn’t come easy. We had, like many people, several unsuccessful attempts at getting – or rather, staying – pregnant. When it looked like the baby bump that would become the baby that would become Oscar was going to make it to full term we were able, just, to remove the deer-in-headlights look and feel that realisation sweep across us both. And just as I started to feel something approaching elation I was handed a nappy and told to strap it on the tiny young lad. I had a whole new learning curve. Time to step up. My whole life’s achievements up to that point had been a sports victory, a great gig and a sculling contest. The real work, and real joy, was now here.

Katy did not enjoy being pregnant. It was difficult. She had daily injections and I had to do them for her. She hates needles. You realise how in love you are and how vulnerable life is when you’re sat at the end of the bed each morning, a cold needle between you being the thing that’s going to help you bring life into this world. I kept thinking of that line from The Young Ones where Vivian is about to do “acupuncture” on Neil by tapping a six-inch nail up his nostril to clear the flu: “You might feel a bit of a prick,” Vivian says. “So what’s new?” is the reply. I never shared this out loud. I steadied my hand each morning and found a new place to drill, avoiding the gathering bruises.

Within days of Oscar existing my mum suggested we “hurry up and try again”. We were reminded that we were both “getting on”. In the days and weeks and months – and now years – since we’ve had our world turned inside out and upside down – magically so, sure – we’ve been asked by closest friends and total strangers when we are “gonna try again”. And if we’re “hoping for one of each”, as if the set needs to be collected; as if you’ve done it right to get both boy and girl, as if there are just two types in the world.

Miscarriage is brutal. Our second seemed particularly cruel – we were a day off the 12-week scan. The first had been no picnic. I was at work; we had friends staying who, at that point, didn’t know our near-news. They were left to, well, mop up. Being good friends, we were in good hands. You finally meet the drop-everything-for-you type of friends you hope you’ve got in these situations.

I guess that first experience – me not being there, cursing a fucking weekend shift in a dead-end retail job – is really what made me so fiercely protective of our pregnancy with Oscar. And of the one that didn’t work ahead of Oscar. I didn’t abstain from drinking. I did enjoy the comforts of a live-in sober-driver. But I was alert to it all. Always on. Ever fearful, always hopeful. We were going to do this.

And we did.

People told Katy she was glowing. And I winced. I felt her worry. People told us it was a walk in the park and I sat baffled. It hadn’t really been that at all.

Discussions around children and having families are so often so gross, I guess because we take it for granted. So many of us really don’t know how lucky we are.

Well here we were now. Runs on the board…finally!

And then the questions again, and again, of why we were “leaving it so late” and how “we better get a move on” and “didn’t we want one of each” and weren’t we “hoping for more” and wasn’t the aim to “have another”.

A boy and a girl would be lovely, sure. I am a boy. Katy is a girl. It’s understandable to want to make something in your own image, to see your own image in someone else. Two boys would be just great too perhaps. He’d have a friend. A little brother. Someone to teach the dance moves too.

But there is so much wrapped up in it all. And every experience is different. We celebrated our 10-year wedding anniversary and a family member told us that “we hadn’t done very well”, meaning just one child was not good enough. As if that was the real and only reason for any marriage. As if staying together and channelling each other’s strengths and covering for each other’s weaknesses, or just knowing them and still being in love with each other wasn’t enough of a win after 10 years. As if a funny, kooky, quirky kid that’s healthy and happy and knows all the words to Phil Collins’ ‘In The Air Tonight’ wasn’t enough of a win after 10 years.

We fended off a few more reminders that time was marching on. As if we don’t have our own mirrors. Or markers. Or marks…

But we never really talked about whether we’d be having “another”. Because in the running of the house and the quest for work and happiness – or one, or the other – we just kept the machine going. Found our groove, found what worked. I’m better at home. Katy is better at work. That’s how it is for us. Everyone finds their groove. It’s slightly different, or very different, for everyone.

Just as the decision around having children – any or how many – is different for everyone.

We finally found a chance to talk about it after the most unsubtle hints in the world. My mum’s latest pressing concern was to know when she could start putting “all the old strollers” on TradeMe.

Oscar will be an only child. He won’t be a lonely child. That’s my hope. He already has friends. And family. And he’s the type of kid who bounds into Mickey Mouse’s house at Disneyland and shouts, “Yo Mickey, what’s cookin’?” or dances in Cuba Mall with the wandering Hare Krishna singing folk. So he’ll be okay. I reckon.

Does it break my heart a little when he says, “but I wish that I could have a brother”? Yes it does.

Do I wish we were having another child? Yes. Yes, I do.

The spirit of Billie sings somewhere in my heart.

We’ve made the right decision. And there are lots of factors in that – nothing is ever easy. But it is right, because it’s the best fit for us. It was never anyone else’s decision. That doesn’t make it easier. Even knowing that doesn’t exactly help.

Did I imagine having “another”, having “one of each”, “completing the set”? Sure. Of course. But we’ve made a great family. We love each other. We’re working on doing the best we can.

God bless the child that’s got his own/That’s got his own

 


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