it occurred to me recently- I am a new person.

The speed and weight of time.

In about three hours Penlope starts school. I am, a chaos. I am proud and terrified. I know this is what is best, we did our due diligence and we found what we can say, with some degree of confidence, is the best possible option for us.

But that just isn't calming. I can feel that warm pressure in my eyes when I think about P and her excitement. Her impatience to be there and meet friends and learn. I am happy in a manner I didn't take very seriously for most of my life.

But my stomach is training for UFC. I am tearing myself apart with worry over what might happen. For the first time in my life I am concerned with what other people think of me. I still don't care what they think, just how those thoughts may impact my child. It's scary.
I'm no good at being nice to strangers.

So I got up after too many hours of not sleeping. My intention was to shoot some people on Uncharted. Instead, I wandered off into these autobiographical dramas of faux paux and failure.

Oh, and there's the great looming fear of what P is going to learn from her peers. I'm losing control here. And I know that is the right thing to do, I know it's best for my little girl. But I am still not calm.

Then I'm remembering my teenage years. The trouble I caused and the attitude I carried around like a club. Those loud nights are looming out there as well.

It's difficult to handle all this turmoil with a grin.
No. I'm wrong, when I see Penelope I can put my maelstrom of doubts in a tiny box. I can handle this snarl of elation and alarm when she gallops around the house. It's easy to be strong for her.
No. that's not right either. It isn't isn't easy, but it isn't hard in the same way things were before.

The point of this lies somewhere above, in that traffic jam of language.

It's probably time for this to end.

EDIT

Or, perhaps, change.

It is now time.

We, as a species, figured out how to fly. We developed clothes, shelter, mathematics, language and the scientific method. We have traveled outside the limits of our planet and found ways to make our voices carry across oceans and continents. We have discovered antibiotics and sport and music. We have permeated and made our homes in all different manner of climate, altitude, and terrain.

But i still hear, "I just can't seem to keep track of money, it's too hard." Or, "I tried dieting, but i just can't say no to seconds."

This is pathetic.

i am just as guilty of this disgusting givingup as everyone else, perhaps more so. But i am also tired of it. If we, collectively, are capable of so much, i think i am quite capable of controlling my temper. Quite capable of calming down instead of fireingup. i am entirely within the realm of realism to assume that i have the ability to change fundamentals in my personality or behavior. And i am fucking going to do so. My daughter deserves a father who is in control. i owe her a father worth looking up to. Put simply, i need to be better.

i've known about most of my shortcomings for a very long time. i've nursed shitty lazy habits since i was old enough to remember anything. i've put off taking these hard looks at myself for my whole life. i mean, seriously, why bother? After all, it's just too fucking hard to change.

Or, people know me as the loudmouth shorttemper opinionstuffed drunk, how can i be anything else?
Or, if i try to change isn't that being disloyal to the years i've put in as this person?
Or, there is no possible way i can succeed completely, so why even try?
This is pathetic.

i am over defeatism. i am over giving up. i am over listening to excuses (and crafting them).

The fucking truth is that we all possess the capacity for change. We must. Without adaptability our brains simply couldn't work. So excuses are exactly that. Don't fool yourself into believing that your laziness is a reason. Don't lie to those around you, lamenting how hard you tried, when really it was just more comfortable to stay fat/broke/in your shitty job/dating that person you hate/whatever.

Sure, there are exceptions to what i'm saying here. Of course there are people out there who could defy the adaptability i'm asserting we all possess. But there are people born with no legs as well. That hardly provides a reason for the rest of us to give up walking. We, and i am speaking for the bulk of humanity, are absolutely not locked into our circumstances.

The next time you toss your hands up and lament the difficulty of the task at hand, look at a building. Specifically take a look at an older church. Now i have zero love for religion, personally i find it to be one of the most repugnant forms of lying to yourself possible, but what is amazing is that WE (meaning humans, not some invisible madeup collection of fear and hope embodied in a jealous violent deity) have the powers of engineering and math and collective hard work needed to construct these massive buildings. All because of lies. If supernatural bullshit can get enough people together to build Ely cathedral, imagine what we could accomplish when motivated by truth. Imagine what we could build and sustain on this planet.

And now compare those aspirations to balancing your checkbook.

The point is we can all be better, accomplish greatness, and enjoy our fleeting years on Earth more. Let's all stop judging ourselves based on minority that "can't" get shit done. Let's all stop lying to ourselves and actually TRY before we concede defeat. Let's all take some responsibility for our own lives and make them into something worthy of living up to.

And Penelope grabs a diaper out of the cupboard, dragging the whole package along and losing them into the dirty laundry. She squeals with the mischief of it and looks at me to gauge how she should react. i hang a grin on my face and retrieve the package.
"Ok. Over here, Ppod."
She takes her lone diaper outside the bathroom and motions urgently to me, "Daddy. Over here. Please."
"Baby, we need to change that behind of yours." She stands, still except for her continued handmovement. i catch on, "Oh, are we too big for the counter now?" She fixes both hands on the diaper and holds it up towards me, i go to her.

As i lay her on her back and get to the cleaning at hand she says, "No change me on the counter. No More. Ok, daddy?"
"And why was this change decided?"
"I too big."
 "Well if you're too big, then how big am i"
She starts bicycling her feet into my stomach, "StompStompStomp. You big."
Again, a grin cracks across my face, "How big am i?" Again, she Liu Kang's her feet and describes heavy walking, "Are you saying that my walking is loud?"
She cackles, i walked right into this, "Yes. You too loud. Because you TOO BIG!" and she disintegrates into the squeaks and squeals of laughter only two years evolved.