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.