Babies. They can slide into the world at any time, arriving into a situation in which they have no control over. Ideally they're looking to enter the world the child of two loving, committed parents. But they have no say in the matter. They can't pick and choose who they get to call mom and dad. They don't sift through preview after preview of prospective parents and eventually make that well informed, "Them, those are the two I want" choice. Some are born to a mother with no father in the picture. Some are born into an unhappy, unloving family. Some are born into poverty with so little hope and so few chances to live the life that every kid deserves. The lucky ones are born to parents who put them first, who love them unconditionally and without a ceiling. I was born to parents like that and fortunately that was the only kind of upbringing I knew. I wouldn't trade the childhood I had for anything in the world. I would guess that many parents have ideas about how they want to parent. I'd also guess that most of those plans go out the window as soon as doctor hands them the little bundle. You can read, study, imagine, talk to friends, prepare in every possible way and still be woefully unprepared for the moment you gaze at your child for the very first time. I can't imagine there's any other moment that even comes close to that one. Thinking about it makes my face numb.
It's like I'm 11 years old again, back at Noah's Ark in Wisconsin Dells. I was there all day and the ride The Plunge was just looming over me, waiting and beckoning. Finally about a half hour before the park closed, I got up the nerve to give it a shot. As I stood on the top of that slide and looked at the steep drop below me, I had no idea what was about to happen. I only knew that it would be terrifying and awesome in one furious plummet. Seconds later, I was gone, headed down, ready or not. And was I ever right.
Terrifying and awesome. Here we are again...
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