Know how you can tell we're in the final prep mode? It has nothing to do with anything being dilated, or a percentage of something being effaced. Those are indications doctors look at. After 10 years, I can read the tells my spouse gives off as she is prepping for the finality of something.
The biggest indication that a second child is imminent: my wife has created a list.
How do I know when I really have to pack for vacation? She makes a list. How do I know when we're serious about moving? She makes a list. These lists are put in an old notebook she's had since college. I know well enough that when the notebook comes out, so does change.
When I got home from work the other day and saw the notebook with a list in it, I knew we were preparing for a change. Nature melts the snow and blossoms the trees to show change; my wife organizes her ordered thoughts and writes a list. The best part of the list? The treat of hearing it read aloud like a children's story. Except it's no Chicka Chicka Boom Boom. She reads it like a general preparing his platoon (no idea if generals lead platoons) for a mission. I never listen to the list either. And she calls me on it every time. "You're not listening are you?" she says. And I search the recesses of my right brain to come up with a creative answer that makes it sound like I was.
The list for the new baby is made. Step-by-step instructions for when I get the call that she's going into labor. All items that need to be brought to the hospital. Everything. The list means it's real now. There is going to be another member to this family sliding it's way into the relentlessly optimistic but often too jaded place we all call the world (you're welcome for the imagery - dull humor is how I cope with stress).
For 8 months I knew this was going to happen. And I've had only one problem when thinking about another son for the past 8 months.
I'm no good with one son, so there's no way I'm going to be good with two.
Let me be specific and honest (two things I'd rather not be on a public writing platform): My wife and I share a staggered work schedule which leaves the both of us alone with him at different points throughout the week. When it's my turn to be on my own with him, I have to take on both the role of mom and dad. I wouldn't mind attempting the dual roles for a few hours here and there, but oftentimes I maintain that role for a very extended period.
And here's where the problem emerges: I am terrible at the mother role. I understand that in an increasingly relative world, gender roles are losing value. But I think that there are some things that mothers are intrinsically better with, and some things fathers are intrinsically better with.
(Before I go on, I'd like to note one thing. In the case of an absent or unavailable mother or father, I believe that one parent can become or find the resources to fill the void role. Each day, the structure of the family becomes more ambiguous and difficult to define. Regardless of how a family is defined, a mother's and father's roles are infinitely important.)
My wife has admirable patience with our Kicker. They communicate in an intimate way that only they understand. They have a connection that only they share. When he cries, she somehow knows why. She sings to him. She is so cued in to his behavior patterns that she can predict what kind of day he will have.
I don't share these gifts.
I'm better at other stuff. And my inability to do what she can has left me with some long nights and days with our son. In response, I'm mentally in battle with my confidence to have another one right around the corner as the formation of the list has predicted.
So when I texted a fellow dad about my concerns, he obliged with advice. He said that I can't expect to continue to handle the situations moms are better at by acting like a mom. In his words, "find your own way to do it. Because you can't do it her way." Which makes sense because I lack the qualities and hips that would make me a good mother.
While I'm still lacking the confidence I need to raise a sequel, I know now that I can't take on the mom roles by being a mom. I have to find my own ways to pacify, communicate, calm, and be patient.
I can only be vulnerable and honest for so long. So it's done here. That took a lot out of me. Pardon me as I go Youtube a few UFC classics.
