Kids...

Kids scare the living shit out of me. It's not the kids themselves, but it's the prospect of actually having one, raising it, and somehow having something horrible happen along the way. Am I fit to be a father? Why yes, yes I am. Have I uttered verbally terrible statements about how I hate children and pregnant mothers like venom? Guilty on all accounts.

People's perspective is a great hideout for what you truly are. If more people think I would be a horrible father secondary to pithy statements pasted on Facebook about how I hate baby bumps, mother support groups, and snot nosed parasite kids sucking the potential lifeblood out of my retirement...then that is my intentional evil master plan. Lowered expectations set you out of less easy failure, any roob can see that.

The problem however is when your wife starts to believe the hype and questions your ability and desire to start, raise, and nurture a family.

Look, here is what I hate about kids...it's the obnoxious overbearing judgemental parents. It's the same attitude I hate about people in general. Oversensitive, overly politically correct, and hipocritical folks who only do good so they can stare down their noses at anyone they deem worthy. "Oh, you didn't use the (insert word here) method for parenting?....hmmmmm, Oh, you didn't get the "Specialist" for their sleeping habits and thumb sucking?" Yeah, what the fuck.

When you temper my beef against people with no problems who invent problems just to seem interesting along with my fear of raising a child and fucking it up somehow, you have me, on a window ledge, ready to jump.

The problem however is that I really like kids. For Christ sake, beneath the heavy swearing and innapropriate humor I really like children. I used to teach and guide young minds rather skillfully. I also work in medicine, reassuring people who are dying of horrible diseases. Inside I die almost 5 times a day seeing the shit I see in the hospital. Alas, my fear of seeing it happen to my family somehow makes me shudder.

My solace however is in my wife, and hearing her lament that maybe I just wouldn't be a good dad helped me see that it's time to move on and take that leap we took on our wedding day. It's the proverbial and predictable leap into thin air where anything good or bad can happen. What made me take that leap is that I got to hold her hand. My wife, the smarter version of the Jacobs, who married some blowhard boob who dabbles in blog writing, cooking, and trying to be a better person.

I've not shared outwardly how much I have reveled in holding our friends's new babies (while also holding a beer and letting a horse sniff her...long story), or practicing football holds on the baby while also drinking a beer. How I loved changing diapers, and running around with the baby in the car carrier (also after a few beers). I can't wait to actually emulate my dad who is still my hero and best friend. If only I too could be that lucky to leave an everlasting positive imprint on my child, much like he did me.

And that's where it leaves me. Yes, kids are the suckers of money lifeblood retirement homes. And they can be trouble, and sometimes one can fail in raising them. And most terribly they can die before you do...I think that's my nightmare, my aversion, and my true fear. But what they bring while they bring it makes the life cycle better. And with a woman you married due to her hotness and her smartness who now holds the friend's baby and you say, "Damn, she would be a great mom"...just makes me press forward...perhaps to push through the phobia and enjoy this great experiment of life.