Mar 20, 2009

Introduction

I don’t know how to change a diaper. I’ve never played peek-a-boo. I’m not fluent in baby-talk and I’m pretty sure I’ll greet my future child with a handshake. Despite these things, I have always wanted children. Never have I wavered in that desire. I'm sure there are both selfish and unselfish reasons that I'll explore later but the truth is that being called "Dad" has always been in my mind as a cheerful inevitability.

I’m sure that from the outside-looking-in, one might be able to argue that I am not exactly the best possible candidate to be a dad. Of course I’ve been told the standard, “You’ll make a good father someday”, but I think everyone has to say that. In reality, I tend to shy away from any situation involving kids. My friends have a large gathering every week with multiple children. All of these gatherings tend to devolve into a big wrestling match at one point or another and I don’t envy the dad that is taking the elbow to the stomach or other vulnerable areas by three kids at once. If I were in his situation, my probable inclination would be to take the smallest child hostage, barricade myself inside the back bedroom, kick the screen out of the window and start running toward the nearby freeway where I could flag down some help. Okay, so maybe I’ve planned an exit strategy just in case.

Perhaps I feel this way because being around a big group of kids just takes me back to the schoolyard. Yeah, I wasn’t the most popular kid around. My childhood was mostly spent chasing imaginary vampires or werewolves, not playing kickball. The only incidences of physical horseplay during my adolescence involved putting my best friend in a headlock, and that was only out of pure necessity.

However, I am comforted by the prevailing wisdom that a completely new outlook happens once it is your child. I have seen that transformation take place, especially in guys. So sure, I’m unprepared and unqualified for fatherhood, but isn’t that true of most men? It might seem old-fashioned or even sexist to say but I believe that, for the most part, women are instinctively more nurturing. Oftentimes they may spend their childhood preparing for a baby: pushing their doll around in a stroller, giving it a bottle, watching it wet itself when you squeeze its stomach. (Note to self: do not do the last one with my real baby). Boys, on the other hand, don’t do much preparation. If my childhood playtime was preparing me for child rearing, then my little infant better be ready to take on the evil forces of C.O.B.R.A. So unless my child comes equipped with plastic accessories and a rubber band connecting the top half and bottom half, I'll be starting from square one as far as knowledge goes.

Despite my unpreparedness, this is a journey I have been looking forward to taking. The days to follow are sure to be filled with stress, ignorance, entertainment, bewilderment, and hopefully, most of all, joy. I'm guessing that over time, changing a diaper will be the least of my concerns.

1 comment:

  1. Dude, paint your kid's face silver like Destro. Then you can foil his constant attempts to wreck havoc on another diaper.

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