Oh, you're a boy...

Before I knew the sex of my future child, my mental state was a muted excitment with a tinge of fear. I knew that I was having a kid of some sorts, so the normal pressures of parenthood were there, food, shelter, protection, love. Those were the base expectations I had for myself as a father. In my heart I thought it was a girl. I dreamed of "Daddy's Little Princess." The little girl was going to be the most spoiled person on the planet and I was prepared to be wrapped, until nothing but my big toe dangled, around her little finger. I would hug her and kiss her and take a trip to the gun store the moment I dropped her and mommy off at home for the first time. My expectation of myself for her, was to destroy any thing that would try to destroy her peace in any way. 

 Milliseconds after I found out we would be having a boy, my mental state totally changed. I was so pensive for a few days because my expectations went from protecting a princess to raising a responsible Man. Not that my daughter wouldn't have become a responsible woman, but the responsibility of raising a man punched me in the gut. I totally skipped his infantile, toddler, preteen, puberty, wet behind the ears years. I saw the end result. I was preparing to raise a leader, a father, a husband, a responsible man. I was prepping for war. I was in the gym, vowing to be up to the challenge; pushing myself so I could push him. One of the funniest moments that stuck in my head thinking about his future is that I really want him to be that guy that when he shows up on prom-night, all pimple-faced and awkwardly tall, the parents of that princess will have peace of mind.