Just about a week ago I thought to myself how these blogs were once a regular part of my existence; Putting it all out there, sharing my experiences or thoughts via a social media outlet, revelling in the number of people who would say they enjoyed what I had to say or catching up with what is happening in my life. Then I reached a point of writing these articles, and then not publishing them. Coming up with an idea, or a topic, but deciding to keep it private. Well, there is an element of that to this post too, only this time I want it to appear in my memories and I want to share with others. It is as much a diary entry as it is a letter to my future self.
Of all the positives and negatives about socials, the memories function of Facebook is wonderful in that it allows you to look back at things you did, people you hung out with, trips you made or even games you played. It also allows you to realise how much you have grown and continue to grow as a person by highlighting what absolute crap you used to post, and by "you" I mean "me". Obviously with age we mature, and thus I usually go through my memories each day and delete the meaningless sports statuses or attempted sharing of humour. Why? Because it just isn't relevant, or even funny. And it took some time to see it.
So I won't lie, posting regularly to social media used to be a terrible habit. Reacting to stories, commenting with attempts to correct or even joke with people ultimately achieved nothing. I have to credit my wife and other family members as they post nowhere near as often as I did/do and their content is always good. Quality, not quantity. I'm still working on posting less, but still sharing what I feel I need to. It is a tough balance to strike, but sometimes it is hindsight that allows it.
I write this from a cabin in Cessnock where I am currently holed up for work, New South Wales is in lockdown in the midst of a major surge of the COVID19 Delta variant pandemic. I have had one dose of my vaccination. My pregnant wife is at home, and has just started her maternity leave. And that is the reason for this entry.
Evenings are currently spent dreaming of the future, dreaming of playing with my incoming son/daughter (not everyone knows yet, although we have been told), and dreaming of what it is really like to be a Father. I'm in a job where I spend a lot of time in an aircraft, a lot of time looking out over our wonderful landscape, in my zen, music playing through my head but not my headset, getting lost in the spirituality of how small and insignificant we really are. And how soon we will have made an addition to the population of this beautiful world.
Children have a magic ability to show you what it is really all about. I love spending time with my nieces and nephew, and I think they enjoy spending time with me and that's probably because it doesn't happen all the time. With our son/daughter, that will be an every day challenge with all the magic moments combined with the sleepless nights, the nappy changes, the crying and screaming, the need for constant care. It all combines to define what motherhood/fatherhood really is. We know it's coming, and we know what to expect but we also know that there will be many things to take us by surprise and stretch us to our limits. That is why I am writing this now; to be able to read this in a year, two years, ten years time and say "Oh, you have no idea!" or "Yeah, you got it right."
Anyway, to have the responsibility to care for, raise, shape this person's life, is not one we take lightly. The magic and the madness that is about to come is all part of the story. How that story unfolds is all part of the magic, and whether there are any brothers and sisters in future as well. All I can really say is that I don't know if I'm ready for what's about to come, but I've never been more ready in all my life. We can't wait to meet you, little one.
