Like opening a clam with a wet bus ticket...

I think it's funny, or weird, or interesting, or something.... that when I express my fears of being a father, people always respond with, "You're gonna do great." Is this the natural response? Is it auto-speech? Like this old thing: "Hey, what's up?" "Pretty good." Raise your hand if you've ever done that.

The other day, I ran into an old family friend and while shaking his hand, said, "Nice to meet you." He was a bit peeved, and said, "I was at your wedding." It sounded really cool with his thick Salvadoran accent... but I think he knew I had made a flub.

I digress.

Why, exactly, do people always hit me with the "you're gonna do great" school of thought? Now, I'm not fishing here, but what is it that makes people think this? Are they actually thinking something else and saying this? Are they actually thinking, "Oh, F**k? That kid's in serious trouble." What qualities have they ever seen in me which might translate into being a good dad? And then I sort of realize, too, that it's so subjective. What's a good dad? It must be totally different to everyone, right? I think my dad is a good dad in many ways. He taught me how to be a hard worker and to be really and truly tough. I wish he'd given me his mustache-growing genes... but other than that, I have no complaints. So, really, I just keep wondering when I'm going to run into someone that's like, "You? Really? Are you sure it's yours?" Or something like that. Maybe that last bit's a little harsh - but...

I can't remember who I was talking to, but they said that they were thinking about trying to have a baby. I responded with something about how the only difference I can feel now that it's real is that I went from being theoretically terrified to tangibly terrified. As an adult, we become relatively comfortable with the idea of our lives. We become comfortable with our thought process and even our emotional responses. I am continually flabbergasted by the way my brain now works... and a little nervous too.



Scenario: 4 months ago - I thought: Man. I really want to go to Nicaragua and learn hot rod super Spanish. That would be awesome. Tracey can come too.

About 7 weeks ago - I thought: Holy F**king S**t. Holy F**king S**t. Holy F**king S**t. (Roughly translated - We're gonna have a what?)

Now - I think: I really want to go live in Australia and learn to harvest the perfect digeridoo. Oh, and learn to play it, like, really really good. That'd be dope. And Tracey can study homeopathic medicine with aborigines. Man, that is gonna be awes- Oh, yeah... baby. Can't.

And I'm not saying that I'm resentful or that I can't really do that, even with a baby... but it's definitely more complicated. And that's taking me a long time to get used to. And what worries me is that I seem to subconsciously forget that our peanut is coming. This is real. I know the peanut is there... but it's like some blurry image at the end of a very dim hallway. And I feel like I'm staggering my way there, arms outstretched, trying to grab one of those water wiggle things.

I believe that learning to ride a bike is a great metaphor for learning in general. As children, and sometimes as adults, we want nothing more than to be able to ride a "big kid's bike." We want to know how so badly that we watch the older kids and we picture ourselves doing it and we ask our parents ad nauseam when they're going to teach us, and finally we get our shot and... Well the story is really different for everyone there. Which is like learning. And for me, I just got fed up with asking and hijacked my brother's HUGE bike... and rode that son-of-a-bitch. And I didn't fall..

So, for me... learning is really a solitary process. I have all the books, and I read them. And I ask questions. I devour anything I can find on the subject... and I know that this too will be like learning to ride a bike. An amazing complicated, levitating, jet-powered bike*, but a bike all the same. I don't spend all my time worrying... but I guess I wish I could jump on the "gonna do great" bandwagon... but there are just too many variables...



*Credit to DK.