Lazy Days

Yesterday I took my last final. It feels nice to wake up in the morning and not have to worry about studying for another test. Then again, I am 26 years old, it seems crazy to still be worrying about finals and tests. Shouldn't I be past that yet? Apparently not. They tell me that as a doctor, the tests never end. You are constantly studying and learning and taking new tests. So, I guess this is just a way of life. Which makes the day after even better. It's really nice to wake up, walk in to get Maya out of her crib, and know that I get to spend the whole day with that little angel. Today we crawled around on our hands and knees, played her drum, did push ups, tried to learn how to walk and took a nap (both of us). It's days like this that make the rest of the days worth it.

Do I Feel Different?

A few days after Maya was born, my friend Dave asked me if I felt different. I said that I did, but at the time, I couldn't put my finger on exactly why. Of course, there are the obvious reasons: I was sleeping less. I was more irritable. I swear I have started losing more hair. I had someone to teach and to care for, to guide and to love. All those things are obviously different about becoming a parent. But when I became a father, I didn't just feel temporally different, I felt, and still feel, spiritually and mentally different. A few days ago Dave asked me the question again, and I told him that I did feel different, but once again, I couldn't really explain why. In the time that's past, I've thought a lot about that question, and I think I've realized why I feel different.

I am a very religious person. I hold my relationship to God as one of the most precious things in my life. I know he exists, and I know he has a plan for me as a human being. Do I think God has every detail of my life planned out? No, of course not. However, there are a few things that I know God wants me to do with my life. Becoming a father is first and foremost among them. There are feelings we feel as we go through life. These feelings guide us through the ins and outs of normal existence. They tell us when what we are doing is right or wrong. They help us make difficult decisions. I believe that those feelings are God's way of guiding us through this complicated mortal experience. When we continually do what God wants us to do, those good feelings are reinforced. As a result, we develop newfound and strengthened confidence in our course through life. This is precisely why I, as a father, feel different than I did before. Through the sleep deprived nights and the countless difficulties of parenthood, there has always been this feeling within me that I am doing what God wants me to do with my life. I feel a newfound confidence that God wants me to be a dad so that I can teach Maya, whom He knows and loves, how to be a person who lives her life by doing good in the world. More so than he has ever done before, God has given me the strength and reassurance that fatherhood is the most important thing that I could be doing with my life. As important as medical school, work, or other pursuits are, in the end, God wants us to be parents, and to find happiness in our families. I know that over these last six months, I have felt the hand of God telling me to be better, to sacrifice myself, to be a real man, and to give all my effort and heart to my daughter and my wife.

In so many ways, being a father changes your life. But of all those changes, the most important one comes from the knowledge that I am doing what God wants me to do with my life. And that is why I feel different, and why I am different.

Firsts

One of the things that has surprised me the most about fatherhood is how truly amazing it is to watch Maya discover the world around her. Yesterday she had a big day. We fed her food for the first time. The rice cereal we fed her didn't look terribly appetizing, but nonetheless, it was so cool to see her reaction at this new food that had been placed in her mouth. At first she didn't know what to do. The taste was entirely new, the texture was novel. You could see her mind processing it as the cereal touched her tongue. What must that be like? To taste food for the very first time, to feel a texture on your tongue that you have never felt before. I could see the wonder in her eyes, like she was instantly realizing the world of possibilities that lay ahead.

Later that night, I was giving her a bath, and she accidentally kicked the water and splashed herself in the face. At first she was startled, but after the initial shock wore off, you could see her thinking about what had happened. She got a little smirk and her face, cocked her leg back, and kicked the water again... and again... and again. She has been taking baths for almost five months, but this was the first time she had realized that she could use her own body to affect the direction of the water. It was awesome to see her put that together in her mind. She kicked her legs and splashed some water in my face, and looked at me and smiled. She was having so much fun, so I just let her kick and kick for about 20 minutes. By the time she was done, my clothes were wet, there was water on the ceiling, and there, laying in the bath was the happiest baby I had ever seen. I know this is just the beginning of new discoveries, and that's what makes it so fun. Hopefully every time she discovers something new and good about the world, it will bring her as much happiness as the time she learned how to kick in the tub.

Can You Say Hi to the Nice Lady?

There's something so disarming about having a new baby. Complete strangers feel the need to talk in strange voices around you, all in hopes of evoking some sort of a happy expression from the baby. I can have entire conversations with people without actually saying a word to them. All I have to do is tell Maya to say things to the nice people. "Say hi to the lady." or "Tell the nice man what you think about his toupee" It's really amazing if you think about it. She obviously doesn't ever say anything to them, and neither do I, but no one seems to care. They all leave happy to have seen a baby.

It really has been surprising to see how universally people of all different kinds are drawn to babies. The other day I was at Hollywood Video and this Hell's Angel type guy was behind us in line. Maya was smiling at him, which then inspired him to talk in a baby voice to her, which didn't surprise me until I really thought about it. It took a second to hit me that this tough guy had resorted to baby talk in a public place, all because Maya started smiling at him. Seeing the way people react to Maya in public places leaves me hopeful that most people, no matter what they look like, really are good people with good hearts.

However, people's reactions to Maya are not always heart warming. Some people just shouldn't ever try to talk in baby talk. They look like nice people, but then they start to talk to Maya, and it seems like they become possessed by some evil reincarnation of Barney the dinosaur and/or Poe from the teletubbies. It's really kinda creepy. All Maya can do is look at them with a weird look on her face. Bless her heart, she can't judge people yet, but I can. All I can tell myself is that their intentions are good. So there's that.

Overall though it really is inspiring to see how a new baby seems to foster love and acceptance from so many different kinds of people. And it's always nice to be able to disarm awkward situations by talking to people through my baby.

Mother's Day

If there's one thing that I have learned from becoming a dad, it's that you never really understand how much your parents have done for you until you have your own kids. Case in point: Weekends used to be a time to sleep in and relax. Unfortunately, babies aren't born with this important piece of information wired into their consciousness. For me, it feels like I can't ever catch up on sleep, and I know Melissa feels the same way. You know the crazy thing? We don't mind. Sure we'd rather sleep, but when I see Maya's eyes and beautiful smile at 6:30 on a Saturday, the only thing I can do is smile. The truth is, parenting is all about becoming more mature. In every case that I can think of, becoming more mature means that we become less selfish. This is something that I struggle with constantly. Who doesn't? It takes a lot of effort to train yourself to think of others first, and yourself second. For some reason, mothers seems to be better at this than anyone else I know. I can think of my own mother making endless sacrifices to satisfy my needs. I watch my sweet Melissa day after day, sacrificing her own comfort to make sure Maya is happy.

So for all the weekends that my own mom and Melissa have and will sacrifice, for all the nights that they have and will lay awake worrying, for all the early mornings and the countless other sacrifices that have and will be made, I say thank you to the wonderful mothers in my life. Your own selflessness is the quintessential, tangible example of Christ-like charity.

Happy Mother's Day!

Welcome to the Hood...Fatherhood

First Impressions of Fatherhood

The hair. The first thing I saw was the hair, and it blew me away. You see, I was bald until I was 3, and as luck would have it, my hair never actually grew in all the way. Apparently my hair was contractually obligated to come late and leave early, because as it turns out, I seem to be losing my hair rather early in life as well, which left me wanting more from my relationship with my hair. I guess we just never clicked. Which is why the hair was so amazing. There was my little girl with hair all over her head. Amazing! Don't worry, I knew she was my baby because, as luck would have it, she had my receding hairline. Good genes!

Her cry came next. It tugged at my heart strings like nothing before. As I watched the Doctor's hold her up, I waited for the first breath. She took a deep breath and her lungs filled with oxygen for the first time - the moment of truth! And then, she let us know how she felt about the whole birthing experience. And cry she did. Our tear ducts must have been hooked up by wifi, because just as she started to cry, so did I. The doctor's took her over to the heat lamp to try to warm her up a little. I walked over and put my hand on her chest and she stopped crying. I however did not. How could I? She stopped crying when I touched her! This parenthood thing couldn't be so hard, right? From this moment, I knew that I would love being a daddy. I knew full well that it would be hard. I thought of all the crap I put my parents through. I thought of all the corrupt influences that the world would try to throw at my pure, beautiful daughter. Regardless of how difficult I knew it was going to be, I knew that being "daddy" would be enough to make me happy in life.

Mostly it was her eyes. That's what I remember most. She wouldn't stop looking at me. I of course didn't mind. It was like she already knew who I was, and she was trying to tell me hello. I could feel love in her eyes. She couldn't say it, but she could tell me with her eyes. Those of you who have really looked into a baby's eyes know what I'm talking about. They were the biggest, most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. They made me wonder what she was thinking. They reminded me of the sanctity of life, that we had created an entirely new person. This moment in time gave me a glimpse into the way that God feels about us, and what he wants us to do in life; An ever present reminder of what life should be about. Her eyes will always remind me that life is about people, more specifically, that it is about losing your own selfishness and devoting your life to making other people happy. Looking into those eyes, I knew that the rest of our life was going to be about her. And how couldn't it be. This is the ultimate victory in life. To love someone more than yourself.