It is now my son's sixth birthday, and I'm wistfully looking back. And the thing I'm looking back on is how, on my daughter's sixth birthday, I had also wistfully looked back. This is some kind of biological cannon thing, I guess.
Both times, I looked back. Full of wist.
My life now is nothing like the
life before our kids were born. The stack of worries I had then seem
inconsequential now, and they've been replaced by a brand new stack of
Back then, I worried about music. I worried that my hair looked good. I worried about making a difference in the world. Today I worry that the music is too loud, and worry that I won't have hair in a few years. I don't worry any more about making a difference in the world. I'd just like to gain some superpower that makes the kids at least pay attention when I'm talking.
Back then, we made no money, but had tons to spend. Today, we make gobs of it, but none to spend. Every month, we hide money from our kids. We lock it up in RRSPs that we won't touch for decades. We even have to put money aside so our kids can to college
and get out of the damned house.
In the days leading up to the delivery date for Nat, I started to get more and more nervous. There was so much left undone.
boy, It won't be long," I said. "Goodbye life. I should really do all
the things I haven't done yet before the baby comes. What do you think I
Then came the best advice she ever gave me.
"How about grow up," she said.
It might even have been in jest.
Post a Comment