wherein he makes parents giggle at his naiveté

Dear friends,

Have you ever heard someone say “they act like they are the first person to ever have a kid”?

Any time I have, I’ve thought about how annoying it is when anyone talks about one thing all the damn time. But I’ve also tried to remind myself that they are just excited. It’s an exciting thing!

In that spirit, I’d like to say…

Yeah, I’m sorry.

I’m going to talk about this impending little nugget A LOT.

In the period after Amy waved a pregnancy test at me like it was a lightsaber, I was a little concerned (and bummed) that I wasn’t excited enough. I was pretty nervous. I knew a baby was coming, and I was happy, but it all seemed vaguely hypothetical. Though not to the Amazon sleeping in the next room right now, I’m sure.

Amazon? Amy-zon? I may need a nap.

It was getting better and more real for me each day, but this past Friday it really got turned up a notch.

We went to UC Baby.

And we C’ed a baby!

Sweet banana fuck.

We saw a little baby on a big screen. We saw a heartbeat. We saw “a cute little button nose.” Amy has one of those. We saw a baby stretched out relaxing, hand behind the head, legs crossed. That’s all me.

We saw what the ultrasound lady referred to as “Wow. That’s a pretty big foot for this point in your pregnancy.” (Full disclosure: It may have been a femur that was measured. A lot was going on!)

And we saw a complete lack of a penis.

It’s a girl!!!!!

It’s not hypothetical anymore, people. But don’t fret…

I have a plan.

It is multi-pronged and comprehensive.

I have a plan.

Stop laughing.

Amy’s sister just had a cute little girl. I am already thinking about talking to the dad to discuss which of the martial arts we should enroll the girls in.

If some day a dude jumps out of a dark hallway with a “hey, baby,” I’d really like for them to be able to place a front kick on his chin and make him go sleepytimes.

I have a detailed plan.

I am thinking about playlists I’m going to make on Spotify to expose her to amazing music early on.

Some of my favourite memories from being a child include exploring my parents music collection. Songs on the radio still remind me of albums they had and the carpet in our living room, that I stretched out on with a hand behind my head and my legs crossed.

I have a plan.

I am going to teach her to take big swings.

To stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves.

To care about making her community a better place for all.

To treat others with respect.

To always demand the same respect back. No exceptions.

And there are about a thousand more things on the list.

I have a plan.

Just so you know, I’m also smart enough to understand that she is arriving without one. And many days will just be a triage situation. Possibly most days.

But I have a plan.

She’s going to be who she is. I get that. I do. I can’t do anything about nature. But nurture…

As my parents have gotten older, I’ve dedicated more time to thinking about everything they did (and still do) for my sister and I. They were young when they had us, but I think they really figured it out.

I’m not going to say that the proof is in the pudding or anything, but please allow me to gesticulate up and down casually in my own direction.

I love their parenting style, and I took note.

I have a plan.

Because I’m older than the average first-time dad, I do math like “How old will I be when she graduates?” But I don’t dwell on it for too long, because I realized that one of the benefits of being a little older is that because I know who I am, I don’t have to try to figure it out while I’m helping to allow her to find out who she is.

I have a plan.

Every night when I go to sleep, even if she’s starfish-ing between Amy and I, I am going to spend at least a few minutes thinking about what I did well and where I dropped the ball that day. I am going to review the big picture ideas. I’m going to revise, based on her wants, needs, and personality. I’m going to figure out what I can do better tomorrow.

UC, I have a plan.

To make her feel like just the most loved and supported kid ever.

Love,
Peter

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