Clara's pregnancy has officially reached full-term. I was thinking we were going to celebrate with an elaborate costumed ball but Clara said she'd rather organize the nursery closet and then stretch out on the sofa and have me rub her feet. Maybe we can have the ball to celebrate the start of her labor.
We've purposely left October's schedule fairly open: there are no trips or bike rides or other major events on the horizon except, of course, for the birth of our first born. It is an odd sensation to go about one's business knowing such a major life-changing event is imminent without knowing exactly when that event will occur. We know if all goes as it should, we'll be nervously and perhaps awkwardly holding a little girl in our arms within a few short weeks. And yet, it's hard to imagine that other side and how, exactly we get there.
As I stand at the precipice of fatherhood I know I always thought I'd be in a different place when I became a father. I thought I'd be more established and wiser and would know better who I was and where I was going. Put another way, I always thought I'd be older than I feel. Then again, at 33 I'm no spring chicken and I don't know that being another five, ten or fifteen years older would see me feeling any different about the situation at hand. I suppose you go into the delivery room with the person you are and not the person you want to be. I suppose it was unrealistic to think that when you take your baby home you are automatically an omnipotent father from day one. I suppose the idea of an omnipotent father is a fairly bogus concept in the first place. I always knew that parenting would be a partnership with my wife, but I'm starting to think that fatherhood will be as much of a partnership with my baby girl as it will be with Clara. Perhaps that is for the best.
Either way, I'm partnered with two girls from here on out and as Clara has already observed, I will be outnumbered.
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