I understand what I’m about to say isn’t exactly profound, but, as I sit here on my day off, I realize that the greatest gift in life, in my opinion, is being able to type away at my computer while staring at my three progeny watch Netflix. Not necessarily the act of watching the three of them veg-out on the couch, but, simply staring at the three of them and realizing that despite all my worry, all my stress, the two master’s programs, work, secondary work, pleasing the better half etc., what really matters, to me, is that all my struggle and heartache, ultimately, enhances their lives. I hope.
For some, seeing their children daily is routine, but, for others, such as myself, having all my offspring together and enjoying our time together is too rare of an occurrence. I often envy those who are simply too stupid to pause and reflect on their good fortune. I despise even more those who are simply too selfish to put the needs of their children before themselves.
In recent years, I’ve watched two very important people in my life simply let go of the awesome responsibility of being a parent. I’ve rummaged through my broken brain for answers. I’ve researched online for hours, searching for an excuse for them, perhaps a genetic predisposition for being an asshole. But I’ve failed. We all experience life differently, and our priorities are all stacked differently; however, I’ve failed to rationalize not prioritizing the little people who are crawling, walking and running through this world who we, the parents, are 100 percent responsible. They didn’t ask to be here. It was either your poor decision or planned decision that created them.
When I lock eyes with my oldest I see one of the two great loves of my life. She embodies everything that was positive about that relationship without any of the baggage. There is no kinder, more helpful person that I know, and she’s seven. My son, my twin, represents everything that was good about my childhood. He’s a brighter, better-looking version of my youth who has the world in the palm of his hands. And with guidance, hopefully, he will realize anything he aspires to do. My youngest symbolizes the greatest love of my life. She’s the prettiest baby, without question. She’s one, so the jury is certainly still out, but she favors a smile over any other expression and has been entirely too easy thus far.
I’m fully aware that I’m lucky. It takes effort. It takes me stepping out of my head to see what’s in front of me. It’s not always easy, but it isn’t particularly hard. I think we can all agree that the world needs fewer losers, and being a parent, owning up to your responsibilities, will go a long way toward developing less losers. It’s at least a start.
I feel like I need to make it abundantly clear that I think it’s great if you decide that not having a child is the path you’ve chosen. That’s way cool; you’re able to look at yourself objectively and realize that the responsibility isn’t for you. We need more people like you.
So far this blog about my journey through life, which is my attempt at looking at my life through a more optimistic prism, has been woefully depressing. But bear with me. It’ll get better, hopefully enjoyable and with a modicum of inspiration. Sometimes it’s important to stop and yell at the idiots who are ruining it for the rest of us.