You've Come a Long Way, Baby

January 1997

For millennia, the human race has replicated itself by making babies. My wife and I, in keeping with that tradition, have just had our first child. I never really gave the whole process much thought. After seeing my wife wired up like a Borg from Star Trek, however, I was amazed about how complex a modern birth really is. After thirty hours of labor (hell, I can't imagine doing anything enjoyable for thirty hours) the doctor finally performed a Cesarean (which hasn't affected my daughter, other than the fact she tries to get out of her shirts through the sleeve openings).

How in the world did people endure this sort of thing before drugs, operations, and Caesar? In prehistoric times, did Og hold his mate's hairy hand, a raptor bone clenched in her teeth, telling her "Breathe! Push! Good, now go back to field, pick more berries"? There are actually modern, thinking people who like this way of doing things, and take Lamaze classes, foresaking centuries of medical progress. I say, "Drugs! Lots of 'em! Both mother AND father!" since I prefer not to see my wife recreate a scene from "The Exorcist."

Modern parenting is so different compared to just a few generations ago. Nineteenth-century parents never had to worry about their kids obsessing over Barney, learning swear words from TV, or breaking expensive electronic appliances buy stuffing them with oatmeal. Modern parents also adopt the "traveling circus" mode and carry tons of baby equipment every time they step out of the house. My wife and I now tote more gear than a touring rock band and move like a herd of turtles wherever we go, toting supplies for a human being who's not even quite sure who we are yet.

Parenting is different now, but there are some things that never change. There will always be too little sleep and too much caffeine, the indescribable aroma of, er, "processed" formula permeating the house, and panicky first-time parents overreacting to their first crisis ("Doctor! She's sniffled twice in the last three hours! Is it serious? Will she need my kidney???").

I never could appreciate the impending task on our shoulders until our daughter came along: a little person, fully dependent on us physically, emotionally, and intellectually. We're now in charge of another human being with lots of demands, and NO instruction manual. So many potential paths for her to take, and it's up to us to guide her as we think is best and pray we don't goof up. As I watch her practicing facial expressions in the mirror like a Muppet in acting class, I dream of what she may become when she grows up. I think about her someday standing at the White House, hand on the Bible, reciting "I shall defend the Constitution to the best of my ability." The other dream, though, has her standing at a cash register wearing a red paper hat, asking customers if they want to super-size their Value Meals.

Even with all the uncertainties and obstacles before us, when you get right down to it, I guess our fears and worries are no different than parents both past and future. We simply want what's best for our kids, and work hard to make it all possible. Our journey is just starting out, but I know we'll give it our best shot. Heck, if Og's kids turned out all right, we just might have a chance. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go further wrap myself around my little girl's finger.

LEGAL STUFF: All content copyright © 1996-2006 Daniel O'Leary. All rights reserved. No unauthorized duplication, publication, or distribution.

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He has previously written online editorials to NJ-shout.com (RIP), Great Society.org, and Songsource.com, among others. He has also been featured in ShoreGuide and AbsoluteWrite.com.

Dan is a current member of the NetWits humorist's collective.

Since his early twenties, Dan's writings have also been prominently featured on the refrigerator in his parents' home. "Sure, they make no sense," Mrs. O'Leary comments, "but we're proud of him -- no matter what everyone else says."