For all you newbie parents wondering what life is like on the other side, have some faith. It’s not that bad.
Yes, teen boys are every bit what they’re made out to be. Get the second refrigerator now while you can. Contract with the fire department to hose down their room once a month. And I would buy a stack of greeting cards for the school principals, because you will get to know them that well.
Even with all that, it’s better on this side.
You won’t be always changing diapers, waking up in the middle of the night or attending a black-tie dinner with a burp cloth on your shoulder. You won’t have to worry about feeling guilty before dipping into the strained apricots.
The screaming, begging and the tears in the grocery store will stop one day. No more sugar-fueled, soda pop-induced parties, first day of school, hair clips, mismatched socks, songs at bedtime. You won’t have to attend any more school plays where you pray your son doesn’t ruin his lines. He’s the one who’s a tree.
There won’t be a need to have an in-depth conversation with a can of formula or get the latest e-edition of Diaper Craft magazine.
Keep looking at your watch and the months and years will fly by. It won’t be long before you won’t have to talk to them about sex or listen to the same knock-knock joke for the 43rd time.
You won’t be the dork father I was in elementary school, watching my oldest daughter, Micah, standing up there to get an award. She was so tiny back then, barely able to see eye-to-eye with one of the seven dwarfs.
All the students were lined up in a row while the parents were ordered to the back of the room.
I remember when they called her award and she walked forward. A tear trickled down my cheek when the principal handed her a certificate. I don’t think it was for anything great, like maybe coloring within the lines or walking down the hallway without tripping.
But at that moment, it seemed the most important award in the world. And they were giving it to my daughter.
I quickly wiped it away, hoping she didn’t see me. This could be irreversible harm to her street cred.
I’m sure Micah prayed for the same thing when she got back in line. Until one of her friends leaned over and asked, “Is that your dad crying?”
If I’m not mistaken, that’s when she covered her face with her hands and shook her head.
That same daughter will be graduating soon from college. I plan to be standing there watching, along with several hundred other parents. I’m sure I will cry again, but I won’t care.
I’ll pause to think of the old days, even the very first time I drove her home from the hospital. I kept looking back at her buckled in our Mercury Monarch and asking myself, “Is this really mine?”
Yes, these days will pass before you know it. And they will have been very much worthwhile.
Mike Henneke is the Sunday editor. His blog can be found at mikehenneke.mvourtown.com

For all you newbie parents wondering what life is like on the other side, have some faith. It’s not that bad.

Yes, teen boys are every bit what they’re made out to be. Get the second refrigerator now while you can. Contract with the fire department to hose down their room once a month. And I would buy a stack of greeting cards for the school principals, because you will get to know them that well.

Even with all that, it’s better on this side.

You won’t be always changing diapers, waking up in the middle of the night or attending a black-tie dinner with a burp cloth on your shoulder. You won’t have to worry about feeling guilty before dipping into the strained apricots.

The screaming, begging and the tears in the grocery store will stop one day. No more sugar-fueled, soda pop-induced parties, first day of school, hair clips, mismatched socks, songs at bedtime. You won’t have to attend any more school plays where you pray your son doesn’t ruin his lines. He’s the one who’s a tree.

There won’t be a need to have an in-depth conversation with a can of formula or get the latest e-edition of Diaper Craft magazine.

Keep looking at your watch and the months and years will fly by. It won’t be long before you won’t have to talk to them about sex or listen to the same knock-knock joke for the 43rd time.

You won’t be the dork father I was in elementary school, watching my oldest daughter, Micah, standing up there to get an award. She was so tiny back then, barely able to see eye-to-eye with one of the seven dwarfs.

All the students were lined up in a row while the parents were ordered to the back of the room.

I remember when they called her award and she walked forward. A tear trickled down my cheek when the principal handed her a certificate. I don’t think it was for anything great, like maybe coloring within the lines or walking down the hallway without tripping.

But at that moment, it seemed the most important award in the world. And they were giving it to my daughter.

I quickly wiped it away, hoping she didn’t see me. This could be irreversible harm to her street cred.

I’m sure Micah prayed for the same thing when she got back in line. Until one of her friends leaned over and asked, “Is that your dad crying?”

If I’m not mistaken, that’s when she covered her face with her hands and shook her head.

That same daughter will be graduating soon from college. I plan to be standing there watching, along with several hundred other parents. I’m sure I will cry again, but I won’t care.

I’ll pause to think of the old days, even the very first time I drove her home from the hospital. I kept looking back at her buckled in our Mercury Monarch and asking myself, “Is this really mine?”

Yes, these days will pass before you know it. And they will have been very much worthwhile.