I’m a dad

I wasn’t ready to be a dad.

When she showed me the pregnancy test I knew it didn’t matter. I was going to be a dad, ready or not.

I’d wanted to be married my whole life. I’d rush into relationships because I wanted to be married so bad. I’d fantasize about what marriage would be like.

I didn’t fantasize about being a father, though. I imagined it would happen at some point. I didn’t really think about it beyond that.

My dad died when I was three. I only have a handful of memories about him, all distorted by time.

I didn’t know how to be a dad.  And at first I definitely didn’t enjoy it.

I’m still not sure I know how to be a dad.  I’m easily irritated.  I get impatient.  Sometimes I make my kids cry.

I’m learning, though.  I spend time with my kids without being asked.  I spend time with them when they ask, even if I had other plans.  I even enjoy it most of the time.

There are still things I don’t like.  Telling them no.  Disciplining them.  Making them do things they don’t want to.  But I want to do what’s best for them, even if it’s not enjoyable.

Am I the best dad in the world.  Of course not.

But I’m getting there.