Dad On His Feet

I'll be a new father in August. The clock already started.

Due date is August 1st. The baby’s room is all set up. Clothes and diapers are washed, rewashed, washed again. Now, the waiting has begun. It’s difficult to think of much else. How does one distract from the birth of their first child? How does one focus on the present, on the deep breathes between today and tomorrow?

Should be in bed. Should be asleep. Instead, I’m wasting time. At least that’s what it feels like. I’m between books. I’m not working on a story, poem, or the novel. I’m looking at Craigslist and IKEA. Thinking about all the stuff that needs to get done in the next few months. Thinking about having a daughter and how so much will change. My metaphor has been high-diving. You don’t know what it will be like until your in the air and, so quickly, entering the water, a moment, an instance flashes by. The transition that you’re thinking of, or planning, happens and you find yourself there.

Soon though, the semester will end, and then we’ll have time to get the baby’s room ready. To shift things around the house. To welcome a new life into the world.