The apocryphal tale goes something like this: I tell the guy who is interviewing me to become a part of his teacher credentialing program that the reason that I feel that I would make a good teacher is that "I am good with kids." I learn later that this answer was widely scoffed at, and the powers that be decided to keep me in the program in spite of it.
What made me say it then? It could be that I had spent most of my previous thirty-plus years pursuing a lifestyle that kept me in touch with all things "kid" and remained, in many ways, a child myself. This changed abruptly on May 14, 1997, when I could no longer diminish my role as an adult, because I became a father. Now there was a whole new generation behind me reflect my age and maturity.
In the past twelve years, I have learned plenty of things about being a grown-up. It has been a unique circumstance, as I have found my parenting skills growing and challenged as I have grown and been challenged as a teacher. Being a teacher is different. Eventually you can hand off your student to that higher power, parents, and resume your normal cares and worries. As a parent, you are never free of those concerns. Happily, I have been blessed with a son who is extremely patient and awesomely resilient.
I like to honk my horn from time to time about what a swell job I'm doing raising my kid. The truth is, he makes it pretty easy. Every so often, I find myself in lecture mode, and I can see it in his eyes: "You really need to tell me this?" But he doesn't say it. He knows that what I am secretly hoping is that he will be just a notch or two better at everything that I ever did. No pressure, dad.
And so today I celebrate the day on which we both started to grow up. It's not as scary as I thought it would be. I've had plenty of help from his mother, and along with some of the tricks I picked up from my parents, it turns out that I am pretty good with kids. Of course, it helps to start with a pretty good kid.
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