BLOG Post #18: Becoming a Father: The Crash Course
The First Kid
Ah, the first kid—where you're equal parts excited and terrified, and feeling completely unprepared for the job. You can try to predict what parenthood will be like, but guess what? You’re doing the predicting, and you’ve got zero experience. It’s like trying to explain snow to someone who’s lived their whole life in the desert—good luck.
When my wife told me with the news that we were having a baby boy, I got this overwhelming sense that I had nine months to transform into a superhero. My brain immediately launched a mental slideshow of all my flaws: "Here's where you fail as a human being, and oh, here's another spot to improve before the tiny human arrives." Why? Because I knew this new person would be watching me—like a little spy sent to see how life should be done (spoiler alert: kids are always watching, even when you don't want them to).
Naturally, I set myself up with the Herculean task of becoming the perfect man before the baby came. No big deal, right? Except… it’s impossible. You can’t change everything about yourself in nine months. You can try, but it’s like cleaning a messy house. You start by wiping the counters, and suddenly you notice the floors are dirty, the walls need scrubbing, and somehow even the ceiling’s got cobwebs. You clean one thing, and five more messes appear out of thin air.
Reality Check with Dad
Two months into my “be a perfect human” transformation (which, for the record, wasn’t going well), I called my dad. He asked if I was freaking out about anything. I told him how I was basically trying to become a flawless man and father in record time—and how it was completely flattening me. He laughed. Like, really laughed. Then he dropped some wisdom that hit me like a ton of bricks, in the best way possible.
“Being a good father isn’t about being perfect,” he said. “I wasn’t even close to perfect when you were born, and look how you turned out.”
Now, let me pause and say this: I couldn’t have asked for a better dad. Turns out, being a good father isn’t about flawless execution but about showing up, owning your flaws, and growing through them. My dad basically gave me the green light to stop obsessing about being Superman and focus on just being present—and working on my own stuff as I go.
The Not-So-Perfect Beginning
Speaking of working on stuff, my dad wasn’t exactly in top form when I was born. He struggled with drug and alcohol abuse, which threw some pretty big wrenches into his life. But something happened after I came along that made him decide to get sober. He started attending Alcoholics Anonymous meetings in our town, and for some reason (maybe babysitting logistics, or maybe he just wanted me there), I ended up tagging along.
Picture this: a five-year-old hanging out in the hallway outside AA meetings, probably doing what any kid would do—dominating the vending machine and trying to act like I wasn’t bored out of my mind. But at the end of every meeting, my dad would bring me in for the Serenity Prayer. I didn’t know what the words meant at the time, but I saw my dad and a bunch of other adults working through their stuff. They weren’t pretending to be perfect; they were tackling the parts of themselves they didn’t like, head-on.
How the Cake Gets Baked
If my dad had been perfect when I was born, I wouldn’t have seen how the cake gets baked—how the mess and the struggle are part of the process. Watching him grapple with his demons and then take them on in real-time taught me one of the most important lessons of my life: I’m never stuck. I can always grow, always evolve. And isn’t that what fatherhood is, really? It’s not about having all the answers but being willing to figure them out as you go.
So, here's to not being perfect—but still showing up, snacks in hand, ready to face whatever the day (or the vending machine) throws at you.
Stay fresh, have a laugh & join the club!
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