Well, here we are the night before my wife and I become parents. One of my friends named it “Bodie-eve”. Very appropriate. And as I’ve talked to friends and relatives today the same question has been asked by everyone.
Are You Ready?
And there’s really only one answer.
Of course not.
Prepared? Sure, we’re as prepared as first time parents can be.
We’ve got a mountain of new items which are either bright plastic, absurd softness, or some strange combination of the two. We’ve got a car seat. And stroller. And bottles. And enough clothes to uniform a little person army. Books about newborns. Long discussions about our approach. Advice both warranted and non. Meetings with Pediatricians. The list goes on. And on.
But Ready is a different question.
“Hey soldier, you’re about to storm Normandy Beach… You ready?”
Prepped. Cautious. Apprehensive. Thoughtful. And weighed down with gear.
But we really don’t know what we’re in for until we’re storming the beach. When parenthood finds us neck deep in the surf with bullets whizzing by we still won’t be ready. But we’ll live through it or die trying, right?
It’s not like we’re going to Mars tomorrow. People have been doing this since… well… as long as there’ve been people. And it worked out. Even back in the dark ages before the internet and iPhones.
“Parenthood… there’s an app for that.” Actually, there probably is. But it still wouldn’t make us ready.