At this point, I’ve been at work for sixteen hours. With a little over six hours left to go, I’m trying as hard as I can to care about doing the rest of the things required for me on this shift and not simply just be a warm body, because the person I’m replacing was little more than that.
In the days leading up to my son’s birth, I resolved I was going to be here more often and, like always, I haven’t held up my end of the bargain. The long-and-short of it is that being a dad and being a husband have both been completely different from what I expected them to be. I expected being a husband to make me feel completely different, like there was some kind of new pathway opening up to me, making me feel comfortable with monogamy not long after I realized I could comfortably and functionally live without it. I expected being a father to feel only negligibly different from my normal method of operating.
The reality of being a husband is basically the same as being a boyfriend, only your insurance costs a shitload more. I stand by my confusion and annoyance with why She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed decreed marriage to be a prerequisite of having kids, BUT, on the other hand, there’s probably some kind of upside, right? I mean, the wedding presents were nice–the wedding itself was fucking awesome–but the practical reality of being someone’s husband so far is just having to factor someone else’s income into my own legal wranglings.
Being a dad is simultaneously exactly what I expected it to be and completely beyond my wildest dreams. Being away from my son so much because of my job is…painful, actually. Everything about my son has been a surprise, dating back to when I first heard my wife was pregnant. His blue eyes, his calm demeanor, and his sheer cuteness–all things I probably could have foreseen, but nonetheless surprise me. Holding him, I feel the kind of weird sense of rightness that would feel even better if it didn’t come at times at which I am either exhausted or in pain. But he’s so cute, and when he looks at me and smiles, I cry a little, because he’s my son, my son, and it’s real, and I feel happy and calm.
I guess I need to get back to work.
Leave a Reply