On fatherhood

With Father's Day coming up I've been doing a lot of thinking about dads, and parenthood in general.

When I was younger I never really wanted to have children.  I've always liked kids and they've always seemed to like me--I would usually become the de facto babysitter/jungle gym at any kind of barbecue or birthday party or other event I attended that had kids present, and I never really minded that, but I always thought that the best part of that gig was that at the end of the day their parents would come to scoop them up and take them away and I could go back to the "real" world.  A world that involved a lot fewer runny noses and dirty diapers and a lot more free time and beer.

Parenthood was one of those things that happened to other people.  Crazy people.  I mean, who the heck would want a baby cramping their style and pooping all over the place? 



But then a funny thing happened.  I caught a case of the parenthood and it turned out that I did.  I was one of those crazy people.    

Clearly insane.

 

Now, three babies later, I can only look back at the younger me and laugh.  Well, that and wish I had even half of his energy.  And lack of gray hair.  And figure.  And memory.  And... what was I saying?

Right.  I used to be an idiot.  Now I'm a much more experienced and wiser idiot.

I used to think my own father was an idiot, too, but then I caught myself saying the exact same things to my children as he used to say to me.  Talk about a slap in the face!  In that moment I realized that not only had I become the man I'd spent the bulk of my teenage years swearing I'd never be like, but also that my children were now putting me through exactly what I'd put him through.  I could finally fully relate, and I had to come to terms with the fact that he had been right all along.  It instantly changed my whole perspective of and relationship with my father, for the better.   

I also realized that soon my children would begin to see me as I once saw him: nothing but a stupid, out-of-touch ogre who kept repeating himself and making up arbitrary rules just to be mean.  Right now they're at an age where I'm a superhero to them, and it's one of the greatest feelings in the world.  I'm the smartest and strongest and funniest and coolest guy in the world, and I could totally beat up every one else in kindergarten's dad.  If I manage to juggle for seven seconds or do a math problem in my head or point out California on a map, I'm looked up to in sheer awe and amazement.

It's a tough thing to accept that in a few short years it won't be like that any more, but I suppose that's the cycle.  One day, when they have kids of their own, they'll look in the mirror and see me, and I'll have my revenge, just as my father did.