So you’re a dad, little brother! Now what? Oh, the fun has just started. Snicker, snicker, snicker.
First bit of advice from someone who’s been a father for almost eight years: When you hear someone say, “Oh, you’re a new father. The fun has just started … Snicker, snicker, snicker …,” resist the urge to run them over with your car.
Because you will hear this a million times. They will tell you how you have no idea what awaits you. Because they do know what awaits you, and you don’t.
Parenthood isn’t easy. Especially those first weeks and months. It’s like going to Army boot camp, only there you actually get sleep and pretty much everyone is potty trained.
Not so with this.
Some days you’ll wake up mad, exhausted, at your wit’s end. You will understand why lion fathers sometimes eat their young. “Honey, I told him that would happen if he kept biting my tail!”
You might even question how you were ever conned into this deal. Because obviously this couldn’t have been your idea. No! You’re not a sucker. You don’t buy snake oil!
And that will be the day someone walks up and says, “Looks like you haven’t slept in two weeks … you have a little baby poop on your chin … Let me tell you: The fun has just started! … Snicker, snicker, snicker.”
Don’t … run … them … over … with … your … car!
Because the fun HAS just started.
It’s amazing being a father. (A mother, too, I assume, but I’ve never had the opportunity.) Sure, it comes with downsides. Loss of sleep. Things in a diaper you couldn’t have imagined. I mean, what IS some of that stuff! Fear of failure. Fear of dropping your kid. Fear of just about everything, including how light your wallet has become.
But too often in life we get hung up on the negatives. And we forget all the glorious positives. And how all that other stuff is a small price to pay for those amazing moments, like when your child first wraps his tiny hand around your finger.
I would change a million diapers for that again.
I remember telling someone at my daughter’s baby shower how nervous I was because people kept telling me how much my life was about to change. How I better enjoy it because soon it would be over. I would get no sleep. I would be doomed. I would miss all those things from my “normal” life.
“Nah,” this person told me. “If you just embrace the new normal, you’ll be fine.”
Next best advice? Enjoy the living heck out of every single second.
Because here’s another thing everyone will tell you: Time flies. “Blink and you’ll miss it” and “before you know it he’ll be heading off to college.”
Again, they’re right. I can’t believe my daughter is about to turn eight this Christmas. Where DOES the time go?
But here’s how you take that advice: Not as a dire pronouncement. Not as a warning against theft. Rather, take it as the reason you have to suck dry every moment you have with that kid.
Even when you’re tired. Even when you just want to be left alone. Even when you’ve had the most exhausting day. When you walk in the door and that kid latches onto your leg and begs to read you a book, take him up on that opportunity. Fight the urge to shake him loose. Fight the call of that beer. Bite your lip. Listen to the story. It will be the best moment of your day. I guarantee it.
I’m not sure where the time goes. But I know it goes somewhere, and there’s no savings account you can deposit it in. Save it for later. The only way to feel better about how fast it speeds by is to make sure you’re always along for the ride. That you never miss any of it. That it’s memorable and worthwhile and unforgettable.
So eat up every second you get.
Final advice: Take good advice when you hear it. Ignore the bad stuff. And never think about running over anyone with your car. Just smile and snicker, snicker, snicker.