I spoke with a friend today who I haven’t spoken with in a long time. They work at a day care, and they said they were inspired by the positivity and love I feel for being a dad. They said that they had been growing increasingly worried that parenthood just makes you into a grumpy person, down on your life and your kids, that they were afraid of becoming that way if they ever became a parent. Almost all of the parents of the kids they take care off come to pick them up with complaints and a bad attitude, it was wearing on them. 

On this same day I wrote a letter to some parents to be that I think speaks well to how I feel about the whole thing, so I’ll just transcribe the letter with some of the specifics removed. 

Dear parent to be,
Roby’s arrival was delayed, but I think after nine months of any pregnancy things feel entirely too long in coming. It’s such a monumental thing, a shift of such incomprehensible scale that it feels almost impossible to imagine. Even after nine months of waiting, and another fortnight on top of that, it still felt like it couldn’t possibly be happening. Even as the hours of Abby’s labour dragged on I kind of couldn’t believe it. The fast approaching new reality of a world with this new person in it just felt impossible. Like getting elected president or winning the lottery. Sure, these are things that happen, technically they are possible, but they aren’t the kind of thing that happen to me. 

Then she was here, screaming and pink and the midwives did their work as Abby’s labour was done or mostly so.
I felt then, hearing her voice and seeing her little pink back and her ten wrinkly toes in the midnight darkness of our living room, that the whole world had turned beneath me, that the angle of the world was different, things felt dramatically and instantly different.

It was as though the story that had been unfolding around me, the story of my life, had shifted from some dramatic narrative of a chosen hero to a throw-away prequel written by an author early in their career, naive in their powers, and with their sights set entirely too low. Now that Robinia was here, everything that had happened up until now was world building, setting the scene, circumstances, background stage work. My life and everything I have done or would ever do from then on only matters to the extent to which it impacts the real story, the story of Robinia. 

You’ll find that people complain and warn you about how tough it is, how little you’ll sleep or how poop stinks or how you can’t really have a relationship with them until they can talk, but let me tell you, that is a load of horse shit.

Having a kid is the best. Every second of every day with Roby is a gift of such exquisite freshness and profundity that it is literally staggering if you stop and appreciate it. 

I have always been curious about religion, but meeting Roby’s what really sealed the deal. I don’t think you can catch even a fleeting glimpse of God until you’ve met your kid. But maybe that’s just me. 

You’re in for it. 
You’re in for it the way a caterpillar is in for it.
You’re in for it the way the bud of a flower is in for it in spring. 

You don’t know who you are yet,
but your kid does. 

congratulations.