It's been one hundred and twenty seven days since my immersion into fatherhood. And I can honestly say that it has been nothing like what I expected. Kind of. I really was not sure what to expect. I know now that it is one of the most, if not the most, life altering experiences. To become a parent. To care for an infant. A tiny, helpless, cute, wrinkly human. I hadn't cried in a long time prior to my son being born, but I cried that day. I'm not ashamed of it, I probably cried more than he did that day. Now as I reflect, I realize for the first time that he is actually growing up. He is outgrowing his clothes. He has developed a personality that will follow him for years to come. He's making noises and movements that he never used to be able to. He's developing a sense of rebellion (he gets that from me) toward sleep. And with all these new traits come curiosities. My curiosities.
Part of me wishes I had one of these (it's a flux capitor for those that don't know, and yes I know I'm lame. So lame), so I could jump ahead in time and see what life has in store for the little guy. It's crazy to me, to think that one day this tiny human will be out running wild with the rest of us. A functioning part of society. Feeding himself. Washing himself. Wiping his own ass. I just can't picture it.
Of course I say I can't imagine it now, but I'm sure within a blink or two it'll be here. And I'll be looking back trying to figure out where the hell my life went. I'll most likely be balder, fatter, and asleep on the couch.
I think these first few months are the easy ones. As much as my wife and I are responsible for easing little RQ into the world I think he is equally responsible for easing us into parenthood. It's only fair that way. And it has been easy. Or at least easier than the images conveyed by most other parents. And I would guess that in a few years, when RQ has had a chance to really push us to our wits end, I might have a different answer if the question of "so how is parenthood?" is asked of me. I doubt I will ever hit the "holyshitwhydidIhavekidsanyway" stage. Or at least I hope I don't. But I assume the nostalgia of it all wears off at some point. And given what I put my folks through, I have a feeling that karma has some surprises in store for me. So I'm going to raise my glass to parenthood now, while I still can, because down the road a beer hat may be the only way to get my drink in the air.
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Lisa on December 11, 2009 at 5:15 PM
And this is why I have fallen in love with your blog. One minute you are ready to party like its 2009, the next you reveal your Rebel Yell, and today you pour love from your soul to your son. Makes my heart melt. Please, treasure these precious moments with RQ as long as you can. Hold him. Kiss him. Inhale his baby scent and innocence. One minute you are knee deep in diapers and baby puke and then time escapes from you. You wake up and your children are pre-teens pushing you away more and more each day as they claw and grasp at independence. What I would do right now, this very moment to scoop both of them in my arms and just snuggle without the "Whaaaaaat?". Beautiful, beautiful post. Makes me cry to remember those precious years, a good cry, but a cry nonetheless.
Unknown on December 11, 2009 at 8:55 PM
My oldest is 12 and my youngest is 21 months...time does fly...(I also have a 3 year old) I miss my oldest being small enough to hold on my lap, although I feel blessed that she is still naive in many areas. My Lil Lady is wise beyond her years, and my Little Man is still quite a little cave-MAN...but even he is getting too big to hold like a baby...
Cherish your moments!!!