Boys

Coming to the end of a second consecutive week off; one of the reasons I’m pretty happy with my company and my boat is that we work out our own schedules, and the other captains I work with are understanding when it comes to family obligations. 

We’ve all worked “over” for each other at this point, and I’m sure each of us will again down the road.

Two weeks off this time because my “old lady” (boat parlance for wife/girlfriend/significant other) gave birth late last week to the newest member of our family: Aidan Ramon. 

Labor and delivery was a breeze (“That was FUN!” she said …. uh, what?!) and everyone’s healthy and happy and home.

Having a child is a life-changing event, an act of faith and hope, and a guarantee you’ll live with some amount of terror for the rest of your life.

More than one is a whole new kettle of fish.

A long time ago, before I was in the baby-making business, I thought that someday I’d have six kids. Don’t know how I arrived at that number, but it popped into my head and stuck for a while.

After the first, and the dissolution of that marriage, I was pretty sure I was done; partly because I couldn’t imagine living in the same house with children I loved no more than the firstborn who did not live with me full time.

Talking about this, gingerly, with the aforementioned eldest, my just-teenaged son rolls his eyes and says: “Seriously? You think I would be jealous?!”

Whether that’s what I think or not, whether it’s true or not, as the father of three boys I do wonder about how to balance my time and divvy-up my attention.

It’s a good thing, I guess, that love is a positive-sum game – just because there are more objects of my affection doesn’t mean that any one necessarily gets less. 

The rest of it is just time management, and that’s something I can work on.