Status update: Ivy is three years old. Ivy is about the size of a five-year-old. She enjoys pizza, lollipops, strobe light dance parties and television. Her favorite phrase is “why daddy (or mommy)?” Her favorite word is “why?” Her favorite question… “why?” You follow? Ok. She also seems to be reaching a concerning state of mind in which the desire for positive rewards is often trumped by the desire to push the boundaries of my patience, and by the desire to create chaos.

A quick aside here as my brain has veered into another realm of thought that needs to be pursued. This may not make it into the blog. I think there needs to be another distinctive phase of childhood after toddler. It would need to be properly encompassing of 3-4 year-old rage, joy, intelligence, sweetness and unpredictability. I like the term: Berserker.

So, here’s what I really wanted to get to in this blog. – Pausing to sip coffee and take a poising breath – I understand why folks without kids would think us parents are trying to trick them into a life of misery. Parents spew so much contradictory information that I’m sure we seem insane from an outsider’s perspective. It must sound to you like I’m just having random thoughts and vocalizing them without regard for cohesion or thesis.

Want to see what I mean? Ask a mother or father of a young child, “should I have a kid?” The most likely first reaction is laughter. Don’t feel insulted; they’re not laughing at you. It’s the body’s physiological response to simultaneous emphatic negative, positive and confused feelings. In fact, it’s not really a laugh at all. Your lungs reflexively muscle out a gust of wind when this feeling occurs. This spontaneous exhalation without a preceding inhalation produces a mild queasiness resulting in a facial “smile” similar to an infant’s “smile” which is really just gas. This queasy, pulsing body wind is your signal that what follows will not help you one goddamned bit. Not a single bit at all.

For instance, I myself have offered something along the lines of: “Ivy is an absolute monster. She is a gigantic beast of a child. She’s too large and smart for her age and, because of that, nothing in my house is safe from her fury. I’m always tired and on multiple occasions I’ve been near tears with rage and love, often felt at the same time. She doesn’t listen to me and the worst part is that it’s not due to a lack of understanding – I think she either wants to see how I will react or wants to laugh at my suffering. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Without the proper context, the receiver of this advice would be justified in assuming I was trying to pull some elaborate prank or conduct a sociological experiment. Because it would have appeared that I just told them how horribly my child has ruined my life and then punctuated it with a glowing endorsement. That’s not crazy-far off of the truth. There once existed a work-hard, carefree, pepper-headed beacon of chill and wanderlust in me. Ivy has effectively extinguished most of that, or at least taken away much of the positively connoted aspects. I still work hard but after work there are so many cares – SO MANY. There’s also, now, more than a pinch of salt in my pepper and, while I still want to travel on a whim, that’s much more difficult to execute and often I just need to sleep.

The aspect of parenthood that is nearly impossible to truly encapsulate in any advice is the unfathomable joy you feel in the presence of your child. Just the other night, my little girl was being an absolute diabolical b-word for hours leading into her bedtime – right up to the second I put her down to sleep. She fought and writhed as I had to force her onto the potty. She wouldn’t brush her teeth nor allow me to do it for her and she swallowed the toothpaste the moment after I asked her not to. I sighed with relief as I hauled her from the bathroom to the bed and just before I laid her down, she hugged me tightly around the neck and said, “I love you daddy.” I never wanted the hug to end. It felt like my heart projected the Care Bear Stare while her’s did so simultaneously and the combined energy enshrouded us in a cocoon of contentment.

When I look at her and see myself and my wife in her little face I get a warm shiver of joy every time – even when I’m upset or exhausted. Every holding of my hand or resting of her head on my shoulder is more invigorating than the last. All of the cliches are true. I feel like she is a part of me and I would never have known how that felt without jumping into this with both feet and hoping for the best.

Don’t get me wrong, some of you absolutely should not ever have a child – not now, not ever. Please for the love of humanity do not ever procreate. EVER…. With respect.

But, to those of you with the proper fortitude and sense of responsibility, who might be on the fence, the honest truth is that you may have to give up a lot of who you are to make room for who you must become. There is happiness on either path. I can only speak from the perspective of someone who knows he chose the right one. Verdict: Incomplete (but on the right track)