First

There.  I did it.  It’s an accomplishment.  Of one sort.  I guess.

You ever read someone’s article or blog online and when you get to the end, where the comments go, there’s one, occasionally two or more comments that say, “First.”?  And that’s all they say.  Makes my head explode.

Somebody went through all the time and trouble to research, write, edit, and then post this article, this idea, this part of themselves.  And all you can say in response once you’ve read it is, “First”?!  Or maybe you didn’t even read it.  Maybe you saw there was a new post and you clicked on the link and then scrolled as fast as you could to the bottom and clicked in the comment box, typed “First” and hit the Submit button.  Maybe, the really good ones at this game pre-typed the word “First” first, like in Microsoft Word or some text editor, hit CTRL-C, then went to the website, scrolled to the bottom, clicked in the comment box and hit CTRL-V, then hit the Submit button.  Maybe they always have the word “First” on their clipboard, so that anytime they’re surfing the net and they come across some poor schlub’s article without any comments, they can scroll down to that comment box, hit CTRL-V, then hit that Submit button.

When it happens, does the second commenter whose comment is also “First” feel embarrassed?  Are they like the runner-up in a Beauty Contest, desperately trying to keep that smile glued on their face like they’re actually happy for the winner?

Well, folks the name of the blog is “While I was Dreaming of Sleep.”  So, sleep addled diatribes will sometimes occur.  It is after all, almost 4 o’clock in the AM and I have to get up in a few hours to go to—  Wait.  Never mind.  No I don’t.  I’m a writer.  I work from home.  I can work whenever I want!  Unfortunately, I can’t pay the bills whenever I want.  Those people have dates in mind of when they want to get paid.  Usually monthly.  So, I do have this other thing I do that brings in the money.  For now.  Until the writing thing takes off.  But I digress.

Many years ago — a little over eighteen now — I became a father.  In just a few days, my BWE (Best Wife Ever) and I are going to drive [alongside? in front of? behind?] our oldest, the girl, as she heads off to University.  She’s taking her own car and we’re driving my truck — with all of her stuff packed into it — so I’m not sure if we’re following or leading or racing side-by-side.  Perhaps all three.  In other words:  Our First.  Is leaving.  The nest.  

She’s fine.  In fact, I think she’s been looking forward to ready for this day since halfway through junior year high.  In fact, she had a wonderful time (You are NEVER allowed to complain that I’ve embarrassed you in public EVER AGAIN!!) today telling several people about how her dad was the first one to cry about all this.  Oh how I wanted to wipe that smirk off her face while inwardly beaming with pride that my daughter has my sense of humor.  

But it’s got me thinking.  Not her having fun at my expense — she’s been doing that for years.  Her leaving.  She’s our first.  Sure, we have another one.  Thank God we had more than one, so if we really screwed up the first one, we’d have a back-up.  Does it matter that one’s a girl and one’s a boy?  So, not a true back-up?  Anyway, she is our FIRST.  I’m sure her brother — if he ever reads this — will once again feel the pain of not only being the second child but also of being the youngest.  He’ll never be the oldest.  But, what he doesn’t realize yet is that he gets to be the ONLY child for the next two years until he graduates high school.  She only had 13½ months as the only before he came along.  Count your blessings where you find ‘em boy!  

She is our FIRST.  Like so few moments in life, this will be the first and only time this happens.  You can’t repeat it.  There have been many “first times”, but not many “only times” on this journey called parenting.  The first time each of my children looked at me — usually moments out of the womb.  The first time I was able to calm a screaming baby with just my voice.  The first time you do something that makes your child laugh or smile.  The first time you make your child cry — with just your voice.  Usually followed by the first time you apologize to them.  There are many more of those moments to happen, but let’s talk about the Only’s.  

• When your wife comes to you one day with a twinkle in her eye and her hands behind her back saying, “We need to talk…”  Then she pulls the little stick out from behind, showing you the bright blue line.  “I’m pregnant,” she says.
  • This is the only time you will become a father.  You may have other children after this one, but you will already be a father when that happens.  You only become a father once.
• When the doctor pulls your child out those last several inches and announces, “It’s a [girl] [boy]!” and all you want to do is wrap that little screaming, bloody, alien looking creature in your arms and hold them ’til they stop crying.  [Sidebar:  Both my kids had squished heads when they were born — something to do with coming down the birth canal — but we thought that an alien from the planet Squishy Head had dropped into the hospital and they were going to make us take it home and raise it as a human.]
  • If you never have another kid, this is the only time that will happen.  If your next kid is a different sex from your first kid and you never have another kid, this is the only time that will happen.  
    • We had the second experience.  When doc told me #2 was a boy, (we didn’t find out the sex of our kids until they were born, but that’s a story for another time) I leaned over to my wife and said, “We got the set.”  “Good.  We’re done,” she replied with that look that made me wonder if she meant having babies or the activity that can make babies.  Desperately hoping she meant the former.  😳 
    • She did.  😂
  • But, this is also the first and only time you become a DAD.  Any idiot with a penis and half a brain can become a father.  Sticking around makes you a Dad.
• When you let go of their hands and they keep walking — tentatively, shakily, precariously — all by themselves.  
• It is the first of many times you must LET GO of your child.  But, each of those letting go’s will be the only time you let go of that particular child in that particular way.  
• When you take your first child out for breakfast on their first day of school — something I have been able to do all but twice in my kids’ lives and highly recommend fathers do every year.  
  • But with the first kid, there’s only that one first time — for both of you.  Afterward, if you keep doing it, it becomes a tradition.  But the first one…that one won’t happen again.
• When you take your first and last child off to college or technical school, or they leave home for boot camp or their first job after high school.
  • You’re not done.  There’s plenty more parenting to do.  I’m just not sure what it is, ‘cause we haven’t hit that next step.  Yet.  Stay tuned.

Feel free to leave a comment about your experiences as a Dad.  But PLEASE, not “First”.  Trust me, we’ll all see who posts the first comment.  No need to announce it.