Ten years ago, while fully embracing the blur that was my twenties, I thought that I would never have children. It just wasn't for me.
I was too busy partying on the weekends, pursuing my rap career (don’t ask), and spending my money on clothes with numbers on them. Basically living my life to the fullest. What can I say? I knew it all and I knew nothing. I certainly wasn’t ready to commit the time and effort that I’m quickly finding out is needed in order to raise a child.
As I climbed through my thirties, I began to see the world a little differently. I started having dreams about a kid, my kid. After that, I thought, Maybe it's a possibility. A year later I was baby crazy and begging my wife to stop taking the pill.
So here we are. I'm a dad, and the timing is perfect. Ten years ago, I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t even close. Who knows how things would have turned out for the child I never had, but I'm guessing it would have involved serious therapy. And things wouldn't have been so great for the child either.
These days, I'm mature and wiser, handling anything life throws at me with the ease and grace of a late summer sunset. That may be pushing it, but I'm glad I waited. I just hope I have the stamina to raise a son. I’ve spent 37 years fine tuning my routine, achieving the perfect balance of procrastination and effortless waste. And now it can all be scrapped. Everything has changed...
Idle time is a thing of the past. When I'm not pasting butt cream on my son's rear I'm walking around the house with him in my arms coming up with new ways to help him fall asleep.
The bathroom has a plastic baby tub in it and baby washcloths dry in the sink. Tiny socks can be found strewn all over the house, the boppy pillow jabs me in the neck at night, and I still can't get used to a car seat base in my backseat. And this is only the beginning.
Don't get me wrong, I'm loving this change, most of it anyway.
I only hope that I don’t grow too mature (my wife tells me my time would be better spent worrying about the next asteroid encounter). I don’t want to be a stick in the mud, the old guy dad who never has any fun. So let’s see, when he’s 10, I’ll be 47. But according to my formula, the one I just came up with while typing this, I act, say, 25 now, so (37 – 12 +10 = 35). 35 puts me at a good age to join him in some mischief. (My wife’s formula puts me at a much younger age, but we’ll go with mine for the sake of this post).
Today I know enough to know that I know very little. But I do know this, I’m going to enjoy being a family man.