A Boy, You Say
I've been thinking a lot lately about what it will be like to have a son. I wasn't particularly hoping for a boy or girl but looking back now, I think my time with Veronika had me secretly wishing for more of the same. Anyone who has seen me with her for any amount of time should know that I wouldn't mind a whole houseful of daughters, despite reports of how that might play out when they reached their teens. When we found out that, in all likelihood, we were having a boy, I was surprised at my reaction. It's actually pretty silly when I think back on it:
(internal monologue) Wow, I'm going to have to be, like, a role model for this kid. Wait, am I not already a role model for Veronika? I haven't even been thinking about it! Oh man, she's already two and I haven't even been working on being a role model, that's not good. But with a boy, I'll be the same sex role model, that's huge. Ok, that's valid, but I'm the opposite sex role model for Veronika too, and her understanding of men will be based in her experience with me, right? Crap, I haven't been working on being a man either!
I drew two conclusions on the drive home from the doctor's that afternoon: 1) I have been a totally negligent father to Veronika thus far, and 2) I don't know how to be a man. Eventually I calmed down and realized that I probably had it right the first time. When Veronika was born, I knew of only one responsibility as a parent—to love her with everything I am for the rest of my life. Everything else should follow from that. (Of course I need to live my life according to what I believe is right, but that's a responsibility to myself as well.) Why should that be any different with a boy? To allow any of these other constructions to enter my mind would at best be a distraction and at worst an obstacle to actually being a good parent. Obviously these are ideas that are still kicking around my head, but that's where I'm at now anyway.
Since I've momentarily stopped worrying about how poor of a parent and man I am, I have had some time to focus on a more fruitful effort for the new baby—making some room in my life for him. Obviously the adjustment will be made when he arrives whether I'm ready or not, but I don't want it to be that way. I've been far too lax in monitoring and maintaining my priorities and, new year's resolution or not, it's time to start reevaluating how I'm ordering my life. I'm not sure exactly what that means yet, but I think I know where to start.