The devil is in... what was it again?

Stephanie says I never pay attention.  She's only partially wrong.  I'm always paying attention to something... it just might not be the exact thing she thinks I should be paying attention.  Like her voice.  Or The Biggest Loser.  Or what color the traffic light is.  To hear her tell it, you'd think I wander through life with noise-canceling headphones and retrograde amnesia.  What little of the minutia of our lives she designates as "important" that I actually manage to catch, I have a penchant for forgetting.  I contend that because she is so enthusiastic about pointing out my fleeting memory, my motivation to keep up with things is only diminished further, but we'll open that can of worms another time.  For the purpose of brevity, I will forgo all defense of her accusation and admit that I, Big Wooly, sometimes have issues holding onto details. 

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I know.  Shocking, huh?

This periodic lack of focus goes hand in hand with the "laid back" trait I often get attributed with.  For the most part, I think it's pretty accurate.  I'm not floating aimlessly through life, bumping into and bouncing off of life's milestones as they pass me by, but I am generally pretty tolerant of what other people want to believe and want to do, around me and apart from me, even if there is some end effect on me.  For the most part.  I just tend not to worry a whole lot.

I worry myself sick over being a father.

For my entire adult life, I have been very comfortable with the fact that my decisions and the fate they determine are my own.  I try to do what I believe will work out best for me... short-term, long-term, karmically.  I also try my hardest to see what other people see when they make decisions that differ from what I would do.  Most often, even if I disagree with someone, I can at least understand the path they took in reaching a conclusion, however divergent that path may be from mine.  Accomplish that, and it takes a lot of potential animosity out of arguments. 

What happens, though, when a child comes into the mix?  You can't let a toddler reach a bad decision and sit back and appreciate the path he took in getting there.   You are responsible for that little rugrat!  You make the decisions for him. The enormity of that responsibility is completely sobering.  Another human, dependent upon ME. 

Truly this is a miracle from God, but still... sometimes I feel like looking up and saying "You DID see me put that entertainment center together inside out, right?"  I wonder if tonight, as I was futilely trying to straighten the shower curtain rod I shoddily assembled a few months ago, He went palm-to-forehead and shook his head.  I know the answer is no... that He has a perfect plan for me and the rest of The Family Wooly... but at the very least, it's proof positive that the big man has a sense of humor.  How else can you explain taking the muttering, chunky, shirtless guy perched precariously on the arm of the bathtub with a shower rod balanced on his noggin and a Phillips head screwdriver in his hand and GIVING HIM A TINY, HELPLESS INFANT to care for. 

I think about it every day.  I can't even fix a flat.  How the hell am I going to suck boogers out of Lil Wooly's teeny, tiny nostrils? 

Ironically, Stephanie is doing spectacularly.  She is a word-class fretter, but she does a 10000000% better job than I do at focusing on the great things we have to look forward to.  It's really a 180 from the roles we have traditionally played.  She has always worried.  About money.  Our house.  Getting rare diseases that she sees on Discovery Health.  It's been my job to talk her back down from the ledge and get her to stop and smell the roses.  With Lil Wooly, though, she is the one who is reminding me of all the wonderful things that will come with all that heaping responsibility. 

While I stress over sucking boogers and not touching fontanelles and frantic late-night calls to the pediatrician, she just wants July to hurry up and get here so she can hold our baby.  There is so, so much I can learn from her.

That's one thing I've made a point not to forget.