How has fatherhood changed this guy?
People who don’t have have kids often think about children as a matter of what they require from you (time, money, attention), which are resources taken away from other things. And this is of course entirely true, but only half the equation, since you also get something from your kids in return. I mean, having a kid is a lot of work, but having a kid is also a lot of fun: The reason parents burble on mindlessly about whatever allegedly amusing damn-fool thing their kid did today is because they’re having a ball raising that child, and all those cliched moments of domestic gooeyness are, in fact, different when they’re happening to you. Kids are not merely a black hole of needs, sucking away your time, money and youth. They are also entertaining.
And far more than entertaining.
My life is ever so much more complicated — and expensive, and inconvenient, and all of that — since Katherine came along. It’s nearly impossible for us to do or plan anything without dealing with a huge, ornery variable of a little girl in the equation. Vacations, trips, going to the movies, watching TV, eating a meal — Katherine’s presence in our lives is like a little black hole, warping space and time around her.
And yet, that’s only because we let her. And that’s because she’s the most wonderful little girl in the entire cosmos, someone I would gladly lay my life down for, the most incredible and intelligent and gorgeous kid anyone ever had. And I’ll fight anyone who argues otherwise (though I might be willing to simply accept that you have some delusion about your own little girl).
For every moment that she’s an aggravation (and I do get aggravated more than I once did), there are a dozen when she’s a joy. For every dollar spent on her, I’d pay a thousand times as much for the happiness she brings us. For every tmie I want to throttle her, there are a hundred other times I want to hug her and hold her and watch her smile and hear her giggle.
And as to how it’s changed me? It’s made me appreciate the above in a way I couldn’t have otherwise (though I’ve always liked kids). It’s made me more aware of myself, too — having to consider what I do and say and what impact it might have on someone on whom the impact shows so plainly. Heck, it gives me perspective on myself through her eyes, which is invaluable. It’s both sobering and enlightening. It’s not always pleasant, either, but that’s the nature of self-knowledge, and it’s worth that cost.
And as to how it’s changed my marriage — it’s forged new links between us in the common cause and experience of child-rearing and loving. n some ways it’s like the building of additional neural connections when people are exposed to new things; our marriage hasn’t been supplanted by our parenthood, but built up by it. Just as I know myself a bit better, I know Margie better than I did before, and she me. And (speaking for myself), I like what I see. Which is pretty damned spiffy.
(via Doyce, who has some fine insights himself)