Welcome to the World, We're Sorry
Shane's Blog to his yet-to-be born child
Hello, by now you can read and are at an age where reading something your father wrote would be of interest. No doubt then, you're in your thirties now too, about to maybe have your first child and are looking for support or advice and you're now turning to these notes written ages ago, when your Dad here was actually cool and vital and interesting. Let me start with this right away: the words "Dad" or "Father" when heard are only going to make you picture me, your Dad (or if you're a girl in six months, your mother when you hear "Mom" being directed towards you). Just like right now, when I write "Dad" I immediately see my Dad, your granddad. So, to begin, this entire concept of "fatherhood" or "parenting" is as much a stretch to me as it's going to be to you one day.
Let's begin with three facts that you may find hard to believe 30 years from now, you little blip on an ultrasound thing you.
Fact #1: Your Mother and I Are Hot for Each Other
I don't know where we are in 30 years, but you were born outta love. In fact, let me say that your father is a bit of a stud. See, Your Mother (YM) had just gotten off the pill so we took three months "off" to build up the proper hormones getting ready for this, the miracle of you. Well, when the season was re-opened to me, the very first time we made it, I shot 'er up good on the first try. Gross, I know, but true. First time, one time, BAM = YOU. Jordan, your uncle, and Duane, your other uncle, like to point out that most likely I had nothing to do with it, that YM's body made this all happen herself, making the most of my sad little afraid weak seed, but you and I know the god's honest truth here. And, well, you're welcome.
But on a larger scale, YM and I really love each other. It's sappy I know, maybe even kind of corny. Hopefully in 30 years from now you're not reading this and thinking to yourself, "Really? You loved each other? When?" She's my best friend and she's the only girl that has ever made me laugh. And she's a total geek and a loser, but her offhand comments make me unable to leave her. In fact, about a year before you were conceived we were having some hard times and were even talking about divorce, if you can believe it. When we started talking about the problems, your mother sitting on the floor crying and stretching, said to me: "If you're going to leave, then just fuck off!" A zinger. Then she regained herself and said, "Listen, I got thoughts in my head that you don't know about." Which was true, and I said to her, "How can I know them unless you tell them to me?" She laughed. So did I. I knew right then I wasn't going anywhere. And that in a nutshell is the magic elixir of why you're on this planet at all: we make each other laugh. (If in 30 years this is no longer true, you're right to blame yourself, because right now life without you is fine.)
Fact #2: You're Already an Underdog, and That's Why I Love You
Look, as I'm writing this we're sitting on pins and needles. YM has had a couple moments of bleeding during your first trimester (we're not through it as I write this). You're fine, the ultrasound guy found a heartbeat on you already, which is amazing. Well, "amazing" doesn't really capture the feeling I have for you. When I heard about you having one, Duane was over and I turned to him, "it's got a heartbeat," like I had something to do with it. But as you grow inside YM there's a slight little tear in her uterus wall, nothing to worry about they tell us, and that is what is causing the bouts of bleeding that YM has had. Her doctor told us that it's not "normal", but it's not unusual either. It's not ideal, but it's also not the end of the world, or in this case, the making of you inside YM. Basically, we have to make it out of the first trimester, YM sequestered to NO physical activity, so that the tear in her uterus wall can heal and you can continue to grow inside her all good. Basically, you're in the hands of the Gods, or God, or Great Spirit right now (maybe always). And if you grow up to be an atheist and an anarchist, let me say right now, you are squarely in the hands of the Gods right now. Doctors and friends and family and our advice to each other right now is, "Just have faith, be positive, it'll all be fine." Of course there is also you in there, with your little heartbeat trying to grow into an actual baby and all that. You're a fighter and the odds are already against you and that only makes me love you even more.
Let me now compare you to the cat you grew up with, mister Cal. Cal, or Cali, is the white one with the black spots. Right now, right this minute, we're without you born, so my only parenting experience comes with "raising" the cats. We found Jem, our first cat on the streets of Toronto, and if you turn out to be a right-wing and/or Born Again religious something, well, that's where we found you too. Anyway, Jem was bored being all alone so we went and got another cat at the pound so Jem could have a friend (most likely you have a sibling, so you know the deal). And the minute I saw Cal I was in love. He was aloof and playful. YM says I'm a lot like him. So, we got him home and he immediately got sick with this cat cold thing. He almost died. We had to force food down his throat with a syringe. We were told that he has a heart condition. We were told that he might not make it. He was really close to the brink. You know what I did? I whispered into his ear at least three times a day, "I love you little buddy. We love you. You keep breathing little dude. You'll get through this. And when you get better we'll have lots of fun together. Live. Live my little dude. I love you. The world wants you to live." And here he is, in this house right now sleeping on the window sill in the sunlight. He's a fighter, just like you. YM's uterus wall has a slight little cut that needs to heal in order for you to carry through to the full-born phase and you're hanging on in there not giving up. Remember that about yourself. That ultimately you wanted to live, and that if for the first few years I rub your belly and leave you in a cat basket it's only because to this point the only parenting skills I have are from taking care of a couple cats.
Fact #3: You Don't Choose Your Parents
Imagine this ideal, if you will, that parenting were a job that YM and I had to apply for. That in the cosmos someplace, from which your spirit ultimately comes from, you were able to conduct parent interviews prior to being conceived. We would sit down in this nether world and you'd ask some questions, and as I talked over YM and she ridiculed me in front of you, you'd thank us for your time and yell "Next!", scratch us off your list as another couple came in, like us, wanting to be parents. Then again, if we as spirits had that choice prior to being born there might only be about 15 people on the planet total. My point is that you can't choose, you just got stuck with us. But let's pretend for a moment that such an interview were possible, just a little one-on-one, the would be child to the I-wanna-be-a-dad Dad.
What related experience do you have to become my Dad?
Well, I was the youngest of three kids myself, two older sisters in fact, which meant the caregiving responsibilities in my life so far have been zilch (save the cats mentioned above). I had gerbils once and they had babies and then they all ate each other until there was only one left. I had fish but they too ate each other when I forgot to feed them. Never had a dog because I don't want anything relying on me too much so I can pursue my "art" freely. But my point is, I know what it's like to be you, basically young and charming and only seeing the world for yourself, for what you need and want from it. I know, you could say, how to be a baby, even well into adulthood.
What will you do when I have to make it through physical ailments like colds, the flu, scraped knees, etc?
Well, when you come out into the world it'll be 2007. But in our household it'll still be 1960 and I'll let your Mom take care of that stuff. (Oh yeah, I steal a lot of jokes from people, that one is from The Sopranos - not sure if you're going to get the reference when you come along, but it's a TV show here now).
Okay, what about more emotional ailments like sadness or depression, or understanding myself, what can you offer to me at those times?
Interesting question, little dude, -
Don't call me that. Calling your child "dude" makes you particularly uncool and seemingly desperate to be cool.
Right ... Well, in terms of dealing with your emotional needs, again, it may be 2007 when you come into the world but it'll be -
1960 in the home. Got that already.
I do that. I repeat jokes. Makes them funnier.
For you?
Um ... yeah ... But seriously, you know I'd deal with them. I'm not really an openly emotional kind of guy. I haven't cried in about four years. I like to keep that inside, it keeps me strong, taut. I'll basically encourage you to be the same way.
"Strong"?
Basically, yeah. A man's man or if you're a girl, well, I really don't know. I guess I'll let YM deal with that girly stuff.
So, what exactly are you going to do?
Well, right now I see myself more as playing the role of entertainer and fun guy. All those intangibles like playing catch, shooting hoops, running through the snow, playing tricks on the cats, go-carting, playing loud music and jumping on the bed, wrestling ... that kind of thing.
You basically want to be my friend?
Basically.
You're aware that parenting is more than being a "friend" to your child, right? Like you actually have to be a parent, a caregiver.
Yeah, in terms of caregiving I got your back. I work all the time. I'm a workaholic. I make money and put some food in the fridge. Well, actually your mother usually handles all the real home costs like that from her earnings. See, I "re-invest" my money back into my business.
"Re-invest", like generating a stock portfolio?
No, not so much that. But what I do do is, I sink all the money I make back into things that I want like DVDs ("research") and camera gear ("supplies") and books (more research) and new fancy gadgets of all kinds (again, more "supplies") like iPods, laptops, video phones, etc.
So, what then are you going to give up to become my Dad?
Right now, I'm not thinking life is going to change much. See, everyone has warned us that life changes when you have kids, but I'm not so sure, you know?
No, I don't.
Well, it's like this, see, you got your things in life to do, I still got my things to do, and yeah, I'll have to adjust to you a little bit, but I still gotta do what I gotta do. I got dreams to fulfill still. You wouldn't want me miserable around the house with unfulfilled dreams, would you?
Um, I'm feeling like we're just about done here, but was there anything else you wanted to say for yourself?
Well, YM is a bit of a nerd, but I'll counter-balance that. I'll make sure you don't wind up a doctor or geologist or electrical engineer or something silly like that. With me close by doing my thing, by example, you'll get a chance to be a rock star or a filmmaker or a painter or something cool like a comic book or graphic novelist/aritst - though I can't draw myself, so maybe not that last one.
Well, what would you do if I wanted to be a tax attorney or systems analyst?
Won't happen.
I'll be me with my own things, and that could be an economist or hotel manager.
Won't happen.
How do you know?
Just do. Won't let it.
Well, Shane, thank you for your time today. I appreciate you coming in, I'll have my people contact you when we've made the decision.
Right on, little dude.
________________
And with that I want you to check this gem of a moment out (click on the "your kids aren't special" below). It's a little comic bit from a great standup, Bill Hicks. Very funny stuff, enjoy.
|
