Three Weeks and Counting

Three weeks. Potentially a little sooner, potentially a little later. But basically three weeks, and I am someone's parent. Some kid's father.

I say "some kid," because throughout my whole life, that's more or less how I have always seen children. They definitely don't bother me, but they have also never really brought me a tremendous amount of joy. I feel awkward around them, and I feel self-conscious about other people watching me interact with them.

But now, as a man who is incredibly close to having one of his own, I find myself so fuckin' excited about it.

I have zero reservations left. I can't wait until she is here and I can hold her and introduce her to people and talk about her too much and make her listen to my music. With my buddy Bix's help, I put together this nonsensical device called a Pack 'n' Play the other day. This is an item that I would have never thought I would be happy to have in my house; but now it's here, it's assembled, and I am already marveling at its beauty and functionality. Those of you who know me are probably very aware of my...skepticism...regarding what I have been referring to as the "baby industrial complex". I know I'm hardly breaking new ground here by complaining about materialism in parenting and in life, but holy crap the sheer amount of stuff that this girl already owns is borderline unethical. I am literally buying a new home to store it all.

But beyond my cynical bullshit, there's some underlying beauty in becoming a baby hoarder while still in utero. My baby girl has so many people already so excited to meet her, every one of them wanting to contribute something to her life before she is even born. Maybe one of the more incredible parts of this insane experience has been having such amazing friends and family make such ridiculously kind gestures that Adair and I don't know how we are ever going to pay it all back.

_________  ____  _________


I was at a friend's house today, and his toddler (who calls me "Man") pulled a book off the shelf and brought it over to me. It was The Lorax. As I peddled its dangerous message of environmentalism to this young gentleman, he sat on my lap and pointed and laughed until he decided there were better narrators out there, and moved on. Honestly, I kinda started to get it. It wasn't some lightbulb moment or anything, but I think I started to take a real human-to-human liking to this little blonde bastard. Easy to imagine how much more massively special it's going to be when the little worthless blob on my lap is mine.

The hospital bag is packed. The carseat is installed. The Pack 'n' Play and innumerable other bullshit items and in varying states of installation, getting ready for this adorable little bundle of joy to come home and poop all over them. I can hardly wait.

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