The joyous time in your life. A blessing. You nurture them, you give love, watch them grow, you feel love.
Love…Nurture…Grow…Love…Nurture…Grow… who am I kidding…?!
Screaming…Crying…Sleepless nights…Dirty nappies…Vomit on my new shirt…Vomit on my old shirt…Vomit on all my shirts…
I was excited at the thought of being a first-time dad, but when my first daughter was born, I was terrified. Not because she was an ugly baby, oh no, she was the most beautiful baby I had ever set my eyes on. But the thought of being totally responsible for another human being completely terrified me. The feeling wasn’t as daunting when the second one arrived, I was experienced, I had been here, I could do this…surely?! But when the third one arrived, optimism went out the window. Terrified is not the word. PETRIFIED. I was petrified. It was me against a house full of girls!!
Was I being punished here?! I mean daughters are blessings, I 100% agree with that. I am a blessed man but at times I felt like an atoned man. They’re not sweet angels, don’t be fooled, they’re devils in disguise. Take my eldest child, she’s always right, like always right, I’m the parent but she’s always right?! And that sweet smile of hers…ruthless! The middle one, I’m sure I have spent ¾ of my life savings on her alone, but I always say no to her, I don’t know how it happens?! The third one, the less said about her, the better. I am too scared to even talk about her and she’s just turned one!
I mean I love them to the moon and back, which parent doesn’t love their children. But if I made it to the moon, I’d stay there, for a gooooood while. It is not easy being a parent.
Parenting is a role which you can never be prepared for. Read as many articles as you want, as many parenting books as you want, babysit as often as you want. All the knowledge and experience in the world, cannot prepare you for your own ‘bundle of joy’. I mean I had my fair share of experience with my nieces and nephews, but was I prepared? Oh no! I can clearly remember soon after my first was born, the nurse asking if I wanted to put her clothes on. She was so small and fragile, I graciously declined and watched from afar.