If everything goes according to plan, I will have my first child in exactly a month. If you read my earlier post then you may be wondering if I am finally into it. Am I feeling connected? I think so. I’ve felt her kick, I’ve felt her hiccup and I’ve felt her move around. Sometimes I talk to her. We even have a little inside joke — I put my hand on Dee’s belly and she goes completely still. Then we laugh and laugh. Man, this kid is hilarious.
Plus, every time I see a baby I want to hold it. Then I want to run away cackling and stow it under my bed for safe keeping. Don’t worry, people with children, I won’t actually steal your baby. Only because I don’t want my daughter to grow up with her father in jail. I still want to keep your adorable baby, though.
So, yeah, I’m into it.
If I am to believe everything that I’ve ever been told about having a child, it’s going to be the worst thing that ever happened to me and the best thing that ever happened to me. I won’t get any sleep but I’ll love those moments when she falls asleep in my arms. I won’t get to do anything for myself anymore but I won’t care because she’s now my number one priority. I will get poop on my hands but I will like the taste. And so on.
I don’t know how much of that I can believe but I don’t really think it matters. In the end, it seems like you’re never really ready to become a parent until you are one and then you figure it out along the way. I guess it’s good that my one real skill is that I’m pretty good at figuring things out.