on children
by the time i reached my mid-30s i’d packed more into my life – certainly more fun and debauchery – no apologies, Sarah! – than many thrice-reincarnated hindus. i was ready for a new challenge, a new story to tell, but mainly – in the words of joanna lumley – i was ready “to be the frame, no longer the picture”. also – this is a detail many readers may not appreciate – the libedo of many men is linked strongly to reproduction, and i’m one of those men.
to cut a long story short, i thought it was time to start a family, so i did. ever the impulsive one. my current wifey and i found out she was up the duff (she likes this phrase – not) 4 days before our wedding on a remote beach in australia. daughter followed son, and we’re now a “nuclear family”.
one’s life before children seems quite surreal after they arrive. i look back at my pre-kiddy passions with a sense of amazement. could i really have been that shallow? oh yes – shallower. did i really take those risks with my life, with my health, with my sanity, with my career?
the first six months with both of my babies was hellish. it wasn’t because of the sleep deprivation – i’d be a shite astronomer if i couldn’t stomach a few nights without sleep. it’s more the way they tie you down – normal life stops, dead in its tracks. it didn’t help that both of those periods coincided with scottish winters, which are enough to depress the hardiest soul.
thereafter, though, i have fallen head over heels in love with them. they bring levels of happiness it’s hard to describe, and similarly intense feelings at the other end of the spectrum. they “extend the dynamic range of life” – that’s the best way i’ve found to describe it, at least to geeks. i wasn’t expecting the fear though – the long hours, imagining the worst – monte carloing the world, in the hope that i can predict and forestall some of the nastiness that will inevitably come their way.
this is where “living a good life” must have it’s greatest reward (i wouldn’t know, but i can speculate). the self-imposed chaos of my own life, and the imagination that drove me to ever-wilder antics, come back to haunt you later in life.
maybe the best thing a father can do is bugger off. sometimes i’m sure that’s true, but i love my children with the kind of passion i used to reserve for vodka, or the top of mauna kea, or the grand canyon, or the first-class lounge at honolulu airport, so i can never see myself leaving them of my own free will.
well, not for longer than it takes to spend a few nights on mauna kea, sip a few margaritas in NYC, stroll up a few hills in san fran, and ingest a few cakes in Amsterdam. no kid wants a dull father, right?
