"After you kids came along, your mother, she said something to me I never quite understood. She said, 'Now we're here to be memories for our kids.' I think now I understand what she meant. Once you're a parent, you're the ghost of your children's future." --Interstellar
The first time I heard my firstborn daughter's heartbeat was on my 30th birthday. It remains, to this day, the greatest birthday present the universe has gifted me. My wife at the time, Anna, had scheduled an ultrasound early in the morning, and immediately after we had plans to journey the six hours back to our hometown in Augusta, Georgia to have dinner with all our parents and surprise them with the news. It was a surreal experience for me. Everything up until that day had been abstract--the theory of having a baby. Hearing my daughter's heartbeat for the first time made the notion more of a reality, and for me clearly delineates two distinct eras of my life: BC--"Before Children," and "AD"--"As Dad."
Following the announcements and celebrations of that week, as we returned home and began all the preparations for the coming of a baby, I noticed a distinct shift in my mental and emotional health. For the first time in my life I started experiencing severe anxiety attacks at the idea of being a father. Another living soul would be dependent upon me for survival and most days I barely felt like I could take care of myself! The fear was palpable, and the terrible anxiety of not knowing what the hell to do would trigger an attack. Slowly, as the days passed and I had time to think and plan, the severity of the attacks lessened. Eventually, several weeks or so after the birth of my daughter, the anxiety attacks dwindled and became a very mild, generalized anxiety. Since then, as each of my kids have entered my life, that steady-state feeling of anxiety for their safety and wellbeing has remained to greater or lesser degrees. It may one day dissipate entirely (I hope), at or around the very end of my own life, I imagine. Such is the state of being a parent.
I grew up more in the first six months of being a father than I did in the first 30 years of my life. That growth only continued to deepen and expand as my second-born entered my life, and then later, Shannon and her two kiddos. There is no more difficult job than parenthood. Don't think so? Imagine: you have an employee who has the emotional control of... well, a three year old. They challenge you on anything and everything you ask them to do that carries even a hint of responsibility, and they will devolve into screaming, crying, or both if they're too hungry, tired, or bored. They will also scream and cry harder if you ask them to eat something, to take a nap, or to do anything positive for their mental health. And while managing this unruly, seemingly deranged employee and getting them to accomplish even one of their goals, you must also keep your own emotions in check and not scream or cry in rage or else you'll only reinforce their own lack of emotional control, thus making your job even harder moving forward. It is a full-time job. You are not paid for it. Oh!--and your employees will also steal your lunch.
Same coin different side though--it can also be the most rewarding job. Seeing them successfully do something they've been trying so hard to accomplish and the look on their face when they do it. Seeing how easily they can get lost in a world of their own imagining as they play. Hearing them laugh as they're doubled up in hysterics, or say something so off-the-wall it just doubles you up in laughter. Getting to watch them grow, develop their own thoughts and explore their own feelings, and express themselves in unique and brave ways--ways that I wasn't capable of at their age. Seeing them be better than I was and feeling hope for them. It's incredibly rewarding.
I'm so thankful for my own parents, and for all the parents I'm blessed to know in my life. For my father, who taught me the value of patience and discipline, and who worked so many hours of overtime at a job an hour and a half away every day for decades to provide a lifestyle for his kids that he himself never got to enjoy. For my mother, who taught me the value of faith and sacrifice, and who constantly maintained a warm, comfortable, and clean home which I never appreciated at the time, but which I now realize exactly how difficult it is to do with children living in the house. For my ex-wife, Anna, for trying so hard to keep our children safe, for encouraging them to develop their interests, and for imparting to them the importance of always being kind to one another. For my partner, Shannon, for treating my own two kiddos as her own, for modeling independence, and instilling the power of self-reliance and perseverance.
Parenting is certainly one of the hardest responsibilities you can have in a lifetime, yet it's also one of the most engaging and dynamic. You'll find yourself growing, developing, and changing just as much as the children you raise. And if you're lucky, and perhaps pay a hair more attention than your kids do, you may even learn more from them than even they do from you.
Happy National Parents' Day!
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