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| -by Father Tubby |
You may have noticed the change in my byline — that is correct; I've joined the ranks of the most widespread religious order on the planet. It may in fact be the one uniting factor between men and women, Iraqis and Americans, dare I say even Democrats and Republicans. Perhaps what makes this order so successful is that it has so many leaders (more are born each day), and so there is a great diversity of thought within our members. There are members of our ranks who have no business in our church, as it has always been easier to join than to practice in good conscience, but I digress. It comes with the territory.
Our practice is based heavily on the efficacy of prayer, which, in all honesty, doesn't work too well, yet we are deeply faithful and never cease in our supplications to our Fearless Leaders. Our most common prayers are mostly about ordinary things; "please let me be able to sleep enough," "please don't barf on my last clean shirt ten minutes before I leave for work," "please let me get something to eat today," and "please let me finish just one or two useful things today." Yet more pressing and global issues such as "please don't let me mess this up irretrievably" also have their place. As a relative neophyte, I am just scratching the surface — I expect to discover many more in the years to come.
For some reason people tend to ask you interesting questions when you join this order. I suppose that they think I am somehow wiser than when my initiation took place on March 14, 2004. They must be mistaking the glazed, exhausted stare for one of profound contemplation and insight; the dirty, rumpled look is not a sign of the renunciation of all worldly matters, it is actually a sign that laundry has not been done in our house in too long. Why does anyone really think that I have actually had time for deep philosophical rumination in the last few months? Yet they ask, and instead of wisdom they get is overtired, off the cuff rant — which on occasion actually says something worthwhile. Go figure.
Yet as my Fearless Leader has actually been sleeping far more than average (one other prayer is "oh please, just ten more minutes of sleep"), I actually do have some time to organize my thoughts when people ask what makes me go "hmm." In fact, as she does this with enough regularity that I have been threatened with excommunication by members of my order, I may even be able to do so in the future. So, the figurative lines are open: if you have a question, you can email it to me at [insert email address here] and see what I have to say.
"Father Tubby, what are the cute things you love, and what don't you like about being a new parent?"
What's not to love? Having her curl up on your chest, completely contented, snuggling into your neck, making happy little noises? Watching her expressions as she figures out all the ways to move her face? Watching her stretch and wake up after sleeping? Being able to figure out what her generic "I'm not happy!!" wail means, and make her world better? It's all good, really.
I suppose I'd like a bit more sleep, and Mom gets a bit stressed out at times, and typing one-handed while I hold her is a little slow, but all the little sounds and movements she makes while she falls asleep are just incredible, which she is in the process of doing right now, lying on my chest. The learning process that all of us are going through, her figuring out how to tell us what she wants, and us trying to learn her signals, is fascinating. Amazingly, many loud noises don't bother her - she slept through a gaming session, including a loud participant and his 15-month-old son who loves to bang and holler.
Ruffles aren't exactly my thing, though they can look cute if not overdone. And of course there is the color pink.1 I am aware that the color pink is totally inescapable as my Fearless Leader happens to be a girl, but it is not my role to contribute to this. It is my role to try and stem the flow, to present alternatives, and to make wise choices for my Fearless Leader until she can choose for herself. To turn her away from the dark side of Barbie, and Bratz, and My Little Pony, and towards the light of hiking, skiing, swimming, and beating up boys on the playground. I can even admit that she looks cute in pink if it is not the primary color she is wearing, and it does prevent gender confusion in the checkout line at the supermarket, but I refuse to accept the implications and limitations that are implied by this color on behalf of my Fearless Leader.
The war on this front extends even further. We will listen to Norah Jones (an absolute favorite) and Sarah McLachlan, and not to Britney/Christina/Jessica or whoever the current queen of bubblegum is at the moment. Norah Jones definitely does not wear pink. Last time I checked, Mia Hamm's uniform had blue and white stripes. Picabo Street has, on occasion, worn pink, but anyone who has survived that much knee surgery and won that many ski races can wear whatever she damned well pleases, and I will request that my Fearless Leader show the proper respect. It is my simple hope that I can give her enough role models who do not wear pink so that she can make an informed, intelligent, and enlightened choice. Because I know full well that if she chooses pink, there is not a damned thing I can do.
"Father Tubby, do you have any other musings about fatherhood? Folks our age are starting to have babies, and it's such a remarkable experience—and one I have no context for (cats aren't the same) that I'd love to learn about it."
Seeker of the Truth, are you sure you want the answer to that? It is a very, very long answer indeed Very well, I shall attempt to be brief.
The big thought that has kept me up at night is that while everything has changed for me, nothing at all has changed.
I have had this huge change in my life, and my perception of the world. My role in life has changed, my relationship with my wife has changed (not for the worse, mind you), my perception of the world has changed. I go to the supermarket, and see the girls working at the cash registers, and I think, "oh, crap. I've only got 15 years before that's my daughter standing over there." I want some serious changes in education policy in this country right flipping now. World peace would help, too.
Internally, I'm still shaking things out. How much can I do away from her? How much playing is too much? Will I be able to overcome my own internal barriers to acting like a complete goofball, and thus allow myself to play with her? Will my games be creative enough to make her laugh? My responsibility to make the world a better place has just gotten a deadline – will I be able to meet it?
Yet at the same time, life goes on.2 The President of our country is a grade A, 100%, certified moron who can't find his own ass (which is the size of Texas) without not only a map and a GPS, but a few dozen Secret Service agents, Air Force One, the Army, Navy, Air Force and Marines, and the Vice President to boot. Seems the CIA hid it, and his lawyers at the White House are trying to convince him that he didn't really lose it in the first place. Religious dickheads are convinced that some 10% of the population of the world is going to hell for their consensual, faithful, healthy, supportive, and happy relationships, when the divorce rate among those purportedly going to heaven "just because" is somewhere north of 25%. We are busy killing each other in Iraq, thereby pissing off the world in general, a large number of Muslims and Arabs more specifically, and Iraqis in particular (whether or not they are guilty, and whether or not they deserve it - and they certainly don't deserve to be tortured). People still drive like idiots, and drink, and hate, and all the rest. Once my torn ACL has put itself back together I will go back to work, and Mom goes back in early June. There's still too much fat in food, and McDonald's is still selling it. People still think smoking is cool, yet tobacco will still kill you, tobacco execs will get rich, and the War on Drugs, well, it isn't going to end any sooner than the War on Terrorism. On the other hand, the AMA wants to remove a doctors ethical obligation to treat malpractice lawyers — perhaps it's a sign that things aren't so bad, after all.
It's enough to drive you to drink. Or volunteer to work for John Kerry.
Or not, because when my Fearless Leader curls up on my chest, all warm and happy and asleep, all is right with my world, and I'd much rather be here with her than anywhere else.
