12 Months and Counting

There's something seriously wrong with my mind. I'm in here listening to History by Jay-Z and I got to the part...

Now victory is mine, she tastes so sweet
She’s my trophy wife, she's coming with me
We'll have a baby who stutters repeatedly
We'll name him history
He'll repeat after me
He’s my legacy, son of my hard work
Future of my past, he’ll explain who I be
Rank me among the greats
Either 1, 2 or 3, if I ain’t number one
Then I failed you victory
Ain’t in it for the fame, that dies within weeks
Ain’t in it for the money, can’t take it when you leave
I wanna be remembered long after you grieve
Long after I’m gone, long after I breathe
I leave all I am, in the hands of history
That's my last will, testimony
This is much more than a song
It’s a baby shower, I’ve been waiting for this hour
History, you're ours

He rapped this at Obama's inaugural dinner for obvious reasons, and a normal person would probably think about that when they hear this song. I'm not normal. I keep thinking about my daughter's first day of preschool. After all the smoke is gone, and the battle's finally won. Victory is finally ours!

The new school year for DCPS starts next week and that means I have twelve more months before my daughter goes to preschool. And this is a fact that I've been annoying my wife with for the last month or so. She's in mommy-mode and has that whole, My baby is growing up so fast. How can I slow down the hands of time?

Meanwhile on the battlefield...

I'm thinking How many more months before this tour of duty is over and they ship me back to the states? Don't get me wrong, I love, love, love my daughter. I don't say it enough. My wife says that one day she's gonna find this blog and think that I hated her. Nothing could be further from the truth. I joke a lot about her being a gremlin and I share all of the headaches only because I detest those people who dote on their children at the expense of others.

You know the type. The ones who beat you over the head with how intelligent their kids are because they blinked when exposed to light. They're the same ones who equate getting pregnant with curing cancer and are quick to bash someone else for either not having children or not raising them according to their standards. I promised to never be one of those people, so that's why I give you a truth-in-advertising parenting blog.

Life's all about balance. There's heaven and there's hell. You have millions of websites telling you how this is the most rewarding job you'll ever have.I'm here to tell you that you will cry uncontrollably in the shower one day. You will spend all of your hard earned money on toys that they will chuck into a corner in favor of the box the toys came in. You will learn to calculate how much of your money just went down the drain in the form of unconsumed formula, baby food and diapers that you have to change because just a speckle of baby-shit came out and it would be cruel to leave it on them.

Friends without kids will forsake you. The friends whom you secretly consider to be horrible parents will be dumbfounded by your refusal to take their advice. In the end it'll just be you and the kid (and the other parent if they're in the picture). You'll cling to little milestones like didn't take a dump in the tub today, but when something big like preschool comes along...it's different. It's that glimpse of a lighthouse in the distance signaling me through the fog. And like everything else, it represents balance. Heaven and hell.

I only have a little longer to go until I reach land. Heaven. But that means that our journey is coming to an end. Hell. She's growing up, moving on to something new and soon all the things that make me want to pull my hair out will be the memories I cling to as she begins a journey of her own that will ultimately lead her away from me. Now of course, I'm not going anywhere soon, but if the time when I see her 24 hours a day can fly by so fast, then I'm sure the next 16 years before she goes to college--when I only see her in the evenings and even less when she starts hanging out with her friends--will go by even faster. And that brings me back to the song, History.

She's my legacy, daughter of my hard work
Future of my past, she'll explain who I be.
Rank me amongst the greats
Either 1, 2 or 3. If I ain't number one
Then I failed you victory

Ain’t in it for the fame, that dies within weeks
Ain’t in it for the money, can’t take it when you leave
I wanna be remembered long after you grieve
Long after I’m gone, long after I breathe

Maybe she won't be the only one crying on the first day of school.