Am I Ready to Be a Father? Or Am I Still a Child?

I’m on the shitty side of 30.

I’m at the age where I should have things figured out. I should have a 401K or an IRA. I should have something dedicated to my family’s future financial stability. I don’t have either. I have a wife. She’s the one that has figured out all those things. She’s the one that makes the contributions. She’s the one who’s keeping us alive.

I make a good living as a writer and consultant. It’s enough to where I shouldn’t be embarrassed to say I do one or the other, but not enough to retire young.

This is all a roundabout way of saying, I’m not quite where I should be this late into 30.

So why am I telling you this?

Well naturally, this all means that it’s time that I brought life into this world.

Yep. Turns out my dick works. I got my wife pregnant.

I’m going to be a father

For all the great things this represents, it’s also terrifying as hell. I think about my childhood. I think about my father. I think about the things I missed out on or the things I did wrong and I wonder if I will be able to do better for this kid or worse.

The baby is due in October and there is this long list of things I have to do first. Mostly home chores like build a fence and add venting fans in the bathrooms. You know, the important stuff.

I joke, but in reality, I do have this growing list, a long list, of stuff I want to accomplish before the kid gets here. I keep telling myself that if I can just finish this list of tasks, then it’s going to be much easier to focus on the baby. But I’m not naive. I know this is going to be hard.  I also know I’m not the first asshole to think about this shit.

But I have to focus on the things I can fix now.

If I think too far in the future, I’m afraid I’ll realize that I’m not ready for any of this.