change

I know I say something similar about once a month, but, I cannot believe Celeste is going to be 4 months old next week. I’m sure that I was standing in that hospital nursery just yesterday afternoon thinkings, “There she is! That beautiful, kicking, crying baby is 100% yours to love and care for and nurture and support and potentially ruin.” Then, just the other day, she comes home from the store with mom wearing sun glasses and I think, “This is it. This is the start of the long drawn out event in which she grows up into an active teenager and I become her old dad who just doesn’t know what cool is and doesn’t understand.”

Despite the message the accompanying photo might portray, she’s actually been quite easy. Take yesterday, for example. The day before she was awake until 11pm that night when she fell asleep in the car on the way home. The next morning we woke her up at 5:30am, threw her in the car and took her for a 4 hour long hike strapped to my chest, most of which she was wide awake for and even entertained us with some singing along the way. Then we took her home for a quick nap and then threw her back in the car and drove her to Ennis where we expected her to pose pretty amongst the wild flowers. And she did. She was nothing but smiles until she got hungry. But 30 minutes at her mother’s breast solved that and she was ready to go again. So we brought her to a birthday party where she made it until about 9:00 when she finally started to get a little cranky. Even then, after the quick nap on the way home she was all smiles again.

Certainly a large portion of her good nature has to do with how naturally likable, charming, and easy going I am. Of course. That must be it. But she wasn’t always this easy. It took (and still takes) some work on our part. So I think that the lifestyle we keep her in has a lot to do with it, for which I am very grateful.

Next week I have to travel to New York on business for the entire week. The thought of being away from my family for that long has me feeling terrible. I’m smothering Celeste with all the attention I can muster and, some how, it just doesn’t seem to be enough to last for an entire week. We’re planning a trip to Canada this summer and there is some talk of Jess going up there earlier than me in order to spend some extra with her family. Words like “1 month” and “I’ll be fine by myself” and “at least we can come home together” are being thrown around and I feel like my lungs have been shrunk to the size of pinto beans and then fried… twice. I know that compromise is important and I have to keep an open mind and consider the needs of both my family and my extended family but I’m really having a hard time with this. It hard enough for me to accept being away for one week — 5 days really — on a trip required by my job which supports my family, it seems almost impossible to accept a voluntary month long separation.

I never realized how completely different my life could be as a father. Not that I didn’t have fair warning. No. Many of those that were fathers and mothers before me warned me both directly and indirectly that this would happen. And I believed them. But, the reality is so much different than the perception.

At the same time though, the warnings that my entire life outside of this little bundle of drool and poop and spit-up would change — if not end entirely — have been mostly untrue. Things are different, yes. Everything has been reprioritized, no doubt about it. Some aspects of life had to be compressed in order to make room for more important things, this is true. But, I still have time for my hobbies, my friends, my joys, and my passions. I was told that the things I wanted to do with my time would change. I was told that many of my prior thoughts and desires and passions and dreams would be completely replaced, but it just hasn’t happened that way.

While everything has certainly been reshuffled and I’ve made some conscious choices to toss a few things out here and there, all in all I feel as though I am intact. I feel as though fatherhood has made me a better person and continues to change me in positive ways. I’m the type of person who seeks personal change. I revel in every step of that transformation. While these particular changes may feel more poignant, I don’t feel like any of me is different or missing now that I’m a father.

I’m happy about that, too. Despite some self-esteem issues and a constant (unnecessary, I know) search for external validation, I’m pretty damn happy with who I am. Sure, there are some things about me that I would change and work daily towards doing so. But all-in-all, I really like who I am. And I’m glad that I can be this person for my wife, my daughter, my future family, and the group of people, both new and old, that I draw closer and closer to me with each passing day.