Kids

I was just hit today with the thought that I have kids. Yes, I have KIDS. This is a profound thought for me. Just 9 days ago I had a daughter. That's it. I understood her, her needs, her desires (well, most of the thirty trillion), and my place in her life. Now I have kids. That's plural. Sure, to most of the people out there that's no big deal, but this is new to me. I have to learn not only how to raise a boy, which is by the way a task I not completely sure I'm up for, but I have to learn to raise two children.

So, I'm going to start with the basics: no. This is a word that hasn't worked well for me thus far in my parenting career, but one which I plan to use more often. 'Dad, can my sister take me to the mall?' No. 'Dad, can I get that tattoo of my girlfriend put on my forehead?' No. 'Dad, can I learn to drive even though I'm only 8?' No. But it's not just for my son (yikes, that's scary to say), it's for my daughter, too. 'Dad, I can't take it anymore. My brother won't leave me alone. Can I watch movies in your room?' No. 'Dad, my boyfriend wa...' NO WAY TO ANYTHING THAT INVOLVES THE WORD BOYFRIEND! 'Dad, can I use the car to take Jonah to his friends?' No. I think this will work. All I have to do is stick to my guns and I WILL CONQUER.

Your right, I don't even believe that.

I do have to say that I'm a bit scared of this all. I don't know how life is going to look or go, but I'm sure I'll learn quickly. I mean how different can it be? Really, how different could it be to raise a boy? I'm in trouble, aren't I?

On a different note, the bris went well. I was a mess. Andrea was a mess. And my little boy lost part of his penis. The ceremony was great. And the reality is that Jonah did not appear traumatised or bothered. Sure it's true that he had lidocaine, a sugar packet to suck on, and a heaping helping of breast milk... really what could be better.