Diary of a Wimpy Adult

I have one month until my daughter Emillie Eloise is born. And in the time leading up to the day, I have been getting anxious. I’m excited to be a father, I’m just scared of being a bad one. I know I will love my child unconditionally, but whether or not I will be a good father is yet to come. From what I see, fatherhood is more than just buying the material things. It’s about molding your child to be a better person, with the right influence and a positive environment. Unfortunately we’re in the midst of the concrete jungle known as the Bronx, where there is no sense of community, nor a positive influence, but Lord willing, we’ll make it out of there. Fortunately she’ll be raised along side my wife and myself, and though there are many differences between us, we would never put our child between us. We’ve experienced our lives with broken homes, and what has come out of that for us, is something no child should ever go through. I hope to have a strong relationship with my daughter, where we will be open with eachother in the future as she grows to be my little princess (a term I’m not a fan of using…) It’s funny how I say “strong relationship”, and “being open”, as if she will come out a teenager, but that’s another legitimate fear I have. That I would be a shunned father much as I had done to my own, and many others have done as well. But the bond I had with my father was very estranged. He wasn’t a man of many words, many emotions or expressions. Wasn’t over religious nor careless, but stricter than a drill sergeant. Not that it wasn’t Vietnam that damaged him, I’m sure, but him and I could have been different, and much better with eachother. That’s the inspiration I gather in myself. The hope to be a better person as I raise my child. The hope to be a better father than my own. In all honesty, I’m just glad to be a father, opportunities like this don’t happen to often to the ones who seek it, so for that, I feel blessed.