I have an unfortunate tendency to tell the truth when asked a direct question. That doesn't mean I lack social tact or anything; it's just that I have trained myself to be as honest as possible. This makes me valuable in the workplace since I can be trusted, but it tends to create socially awkward situations for me. The most recent example I can give you is when people who know about our baby ask me, "So, are you excited?" I have different responses depending on how well I know the person asking the question, but I have never said, "Yes."
From time to time I have found it necessary to qualify my response, particularly to my mother-in-law, who didn't really know what to say when I told her, "No, not at the moment." I went on to explain that while I was not unhappy about the situation, there were too many things for me to take care of between now and September to be excited. I have said Abigail is excited enough for the both of us (anyone who reads her blog can tell).
So today, I found myself with an unusual amount of free time at work, and I had only gotten about 4-5 hours of sleep last night (which, incidentally, is the amount I have gotten every night for about a week). I was somewhat out of it today, and was fortunate that it was a slow day. As the afternoon wore on and most of my work was finished, I found myself lost in thought.
At some point I started thinking about my daughter, and what she will look like. I wondered what it will be like to teach her things, and if I will ever take her to work with me. I imagined conversations with her. I have the feeling that she will be really smart; she has good genes. I thought about taking her to her grandparents' houses, and maybe even on a long trip up to Colorado. She has a lot of family there.
Something unusual happened. I stopped being able to concentrate on the work I was doing altogether, and was seized with an urgent desire to get up from my desk, go home, and get to work early on the baby's room (that we're painting tomorrow). I stayed for two more hours (and did get more work done), but the peculiar feeling remained. For just a few moments, I managed to think of my daughter as someone who will be part of my life, and forgot about all of the things we will have to do in the next few months (and for the rest of our lives). I can honestly tell you that yes, now I'm excited. I'm still probably not quite on the level Abigail is, but I'm not sure that's possible.
In a few months, I'm going to be a dad. For a long time, my dad was really the only man I associated with the word. Now I have another one (or Abigail does, anyway, and so he's stuck with me). My brother Phil and my godfather Tim are dads (which is still very strange to me), and now my friends Josh and Travis are having kids too (June and September, respectively). Whenever I have a problem, or whenever I'm excited about something, I always want to tell my dad about it. Someday there's going to be someone who needs me in the same way. Maybe I should learn more about cars, sports, or something dad-like so I'm up to the task.
