Grown up already?

My friends have always said it: “The first time you become a father, everything changes.” In one way or another, they were right. And yet, all their tales of sleepless nights and “can’t let them out of your sight for a moment” were, for me, far outweighed by the overwhelming sense of what an immense gift a small baby was. When I tried to tell my friends who weren’t fathers about what changes most with the birth of a child, I always came back to the same analogy: it’s like coming home to a gift every day. You can’t unpack it, but it will bring you surprises and joy every hour, and the feeling of connection and love will last forever. 

When my first daughter was born, I instantly became much more aware of everything, and I could barely imagine that sooner or later my time with the baby would ever be over. The moment that I realised just how precious this time was, was the moment that I changed our baby’s nappy for the last time. That moment came a little too soon for my liking. Yesterday you were bottle-feeding them – today, they’ll do whatever they please if you’re not careful. 

There’s no doubt that some might say I was naive but, before I became a father, I fondly imagined that they would start walking at around 3 and be able to have a proper conversation by the age of 6. 
The truth is ever so slightly different: they’re walking by the age of 12 months, and, before they’re even 4 years old, they’ve wrapped you all the way around their little fingers – and you don’t even notice. 
You always think “They’re only six,” but to be honest, I sometimes have the feeling that they’re already secretly planning to move out. It’s all just happening far too quickly for me to want to miss a single crucial moment of this rocket-fast growth. I want to give them as much as I possibly can. But don’t they get more input today that any person could ever process? And besides, they need to find their own paths too. It’s all so true – so how does one deal with it, exactly?

The ultimate patented recipe, unfortunately, does not exist. Karin and I both agree on that. We also agree on the fact that we want to make the most of the time that we have with our children, and experience it as intensely as possible. I was excited to see what impetus this project would bring us as we continued along the path. 

P.S. A note in retrospect: I always used to joke that when my daughters were older, they would be ashamed of their dad and ask me to drop them off a block away or more from their friends’ houses. My first ouch-moment went like this: at 11 years old, my oldest daughter casually informed me as I was driving her to a birthday party: “You won’t be getting out of the car in front of my friends, will you?” So much for growing up quickly and exploring the world for yourself. 

Reflections of Arnold, host and father