As I've stated before, likely again and again, the initial decision to venture down the path of parenthood was a long and arduous one to arrive at. In some ways, I'd made less of a full-blown commitment to the role as it was to generously concede to my wife's desires. And as I've also said before, I'm so grateful today for the persistence of her vision.
I've also stated repeatedly that there have been plenty of days I'd push the button.
Both statements have been true during the course of the past year. It's been a continued journey of valleys and peaks and of struggles and successes. I can't imagine it's not the same for any rational, caring parent with a desire and need to maintain their own identity within the demands of having young children. At some point, between the rushed commute to work and the inherent demands of living with twin toddlers, there's a need to have moments of time to not only catch a breath but to experience it fully.
I'm quite proud of my desires and intentions as a parent. I'm less impressed with my follow-through and execution. I'll admit that I'm not the most focused person at times, and there have been plenty of moments over the last year when I can look back on them and feel regret for being impatient, distracted, or irritated that a 3-year-old doesn't understand how not getting into the car after 12 varied degrees of requests or demands to do so is not an acceptable way to be.
But I am sincerely proud of the efforts I've made and continue to make in keeping my perspective, helping them learn the 'rules of the road' while not impeding their innate curiosity and sense of independence, and realizing that as worn as their attempt to use every excuse under the sun to avoid staying in bed may be, there's a time ahead, approaching faster than I can begin to realize, that those days will be gone and greatly missed.
The past three+ years have been a dramatic change in my life. I know you'd say that anybody's lives change with kids, but only those who've known me long enough to have lost a significant amount of money by having placed odds on my never having kids can truly understand how about-face the whole experience has been. It's only been in the last months, following our finally settling into the home I expect we'll be living in when they're in high school, that we've begun to see some semblance of the 'family' experience we've envisioned. Family meals are falling into a bearable experience. Getting up, in, out, and about is less cumbersome and demanding. Conversations are finally two-way (sometimes). Although full cooperation and obedience are and always will be as elusive as could be expected outside of military training, more often than not, the simple and joyous moments outweigh those I'd categorize as exasperating.
I guess it all boils down to a simple question. Would I do this again?
That's probably one of the hardest questions you could ever ask me or that I would ever have to answer. You have to remember that I was single until I was in my late 30s, with complete freedom of any choices related to career, finances, travel, and environment. After getting married, we still managed to squeeze 5 years of solo time together, allowing her to get a degree and me to pursue the vision of bringing Confoti to the masses (if only for a brief time). And we could indulge our desire to dine out or spontaneously take off for Napa weekends at a moment's notice.
Life with kids isn't just a different ball game; it's a completely different category of sport altogether. This is the true 'other side of the coin'. And for us, there's little left of what was then in what is today, beyond the memories and the hearts and souls that made them. We're not different people, but we're leading dramatically different lives.
I had 'the day off' today. Just as I had arranged for my wife on Mother's Day, I was given a wonderful breakfast after a restful opportunity to sleep in. I was sung to by the kids and given scrawled drawings and cards, complete with the clear and wonderful beginnings of their own names in their own handwriting. I was provided with an array of gift certificates for places to go during the day, a cleaned car, and some new clothes as well. I was free to go linger in a cafe, browse a bookstore, take numerous abstract and artistic photographs, enjoy a casual lunch at a table on a sidewalk cafe, listen to live jazz being placed in a park, and sip on a rich and refreshing frozen beverage.
I had the entire day and evening all to myself. Yet in the late afternoon, a thought that crossed my mind in the morning had gradually bubbled to the surface frequently enough that I knew it was what I really wanted to do and where I really wanted to be. So, I purchased a simple grill for the patio, stopped and picked up some beer, hot dogs, burgers and all the fixings, and returned home.
As cliché as it may sound, I spent the remainder of my father's day sitting on the patio, assembling the new BBQ with the help of two eager apprentices. Then I fired up the coals, flipped burgers, rolled franks, and we all ended up sitting on a large blanket in our backyard as we had a Father's Day picnic dinner together. I could not have imagined a more perfect way to end the day. With my family, and with the reasons I celebrate the day and the honor of being able to do so.
So, to answer the question, yes. I'd do it again, even with all the kicking, screaming, whining, and complaining. I just wish I had known what I know today four years ago. I would likely not have kicked, screamed, whined, and complained as much.