The first year of parenting – a retrospective

The last twelve months have been the fastest of my life, but at the same time I feel like I’ve lived every single day of them in a way that I can’t say for the previous 32 years’ worth of them. Parenthood is like that: time becomes fluid.

I’ve tried to reflect here on what I’ve learned in this first year as a dad. This blog as a whole is intended to share the things that surprised me or that I thought were worth preparing others for, but this post is more of a summing-up.

In some ways, I feel prepared now for the rest of my parenting as Ted grows up. That probably sounds naive when he hasn’t even started speaking yet. But parenting is a process where you learn to adjust to a constantly-changing responsibility, and figure out how to regularly alter your own life, processes, reactions and emotions in response to the child’s. Having done this for a year now, I feel like I now have some idea of what this game is all about and can picture myself continuing the journey as Ted grows and evolves. Which is just as well, really.

Here are twelve things I’ve concluded from the first twelve months of being a dad.

1. The hard work starts after the birth

Okay, okay: I’ve never had to push a baby out of my vagina – I’m being facetious here. But I remember that back in March 2019 (a month before Ted was born), the prospect of childbirth overshadowed everything we were doing. We were grappling with finishing driving lessons in time for the baby’s arrival, figuring out what things to pack to take with us to the hospital and practicing meditation and hypnobirthing. All of these things were important (and needed grappling with!) but we forgot about almost all of them within days of the birth – today, those concerns feel like they belong to another person (which is true, really).

Nothing in all our NCT classes or books or conversations prepared us for the reality of being in an intensive care ward a few days after the baby was born, for example. We hadn’t really thought much about what would happen when we got home with the baby and were alone. It’s for good reason really—you’d go insane otherwise—but at the time you can’t imagine thinking about anything else.

2. Your network is key

A social network, that is – quite a difficult thing right now in the time of the pandemic, but we’re all figuring it out. A year on from Ted’s birth, we have dozens of new friends we’d never met prior to parenthood, who all have kids of similar ages. Having a WhatsApp group to ask questions of (in the early days), share anecdotes and cutesy baby photos that nobody else wants to see, arrange meetups with (not forgetting sneakily comparing baby progress with, too) is crucial for your survival here. Your non-parent friends will still be there, and will (probably) be interested in your kid too, but you won’t be seeing them in the same ways you used to. Spending the time to build your own network of local parent friends will be hugely valuable.

3. Nobody knows better than you do

You’ll be inundated with advice about how to do everything for your kid, plus what gadgets to buy, what food to give them, what sleep techniques to try and what books to read. Ignore them all (including this blog). Especially ignore the older generations who make wry “in my day…” comments—laced with scepticism—when you talk about something you’re doing with your kid. I can barely remember what a newborn baby feels like to hold and how to care for one, and it was only last year. If someone who’s raised kids is telling you how to do it when they themselves haven’t been near the business end of a nappy for a decade or more, their advice is past its sell-by date.

4. This too shall pass

All of the difficult parenting moments feel overwhelming and insurmountable. Especially in the early weeks I felt an almost tangible sense of dread and fear, like I couldn’t handle the enormity of this task. When you’re cradling a bawling infant at 4am and running on about 30 minutes’ sleep yourself, it feels like you’re going to lose your marbles and have to give up. But it passes: your child will sleep, you’ll get some shuteye yourself, and after even just a couple of hours’ unbroken rest you’ll feel incredibly refreshed, somehow (sometimes). The child you’re raising is developing at an amazing rate, the fastest they’ll ever do so in their lifetime. Whatever stage they’re going through currently, whatever regression or leap they’re undergoing – it will pass.

5. YAGNI

This is a software development term – You Aren’t Gonna Need It. On the first night we brought Ted home from the hospital I crowded his crib with every sleep aid and gadget we’d bought, with no idea which one would sooth him to sleep and calm us down. It was all pointless – he would sleep on his own time at his own pace. Maybe a third of the toys and games Ted’s been given since have ended up in a big toybox, where they stay unplayed with. He’s excited and amazed by things as basic as a cardboard box or an old computer keyboard. Put down the Amazon Prime app and just spend some time exploring a random household object with your kid – it’ll be just as novel to them.

6. Time is now your most precious commodity

You’re going to find yourself budgeting your personal time more than your money. A free evening when the baby’s asleep and you can—gasp—watch a movie in peace, chat with friends or even cook an adventurous dinner: this is a rare treat. When it happens, you can’t afford to waste it. This can sometimes mean being blunt with non-parent friends, especially during this lockdown period, where time is a resource everybody else has way too much of. Be bold and in control of the time you’ve got to yourself, because there won’t be much of it.

7. Be kind to other parents

Before becoming one, I never really understood why people shoehorned their kids into conversations, put pictures of them on their phone wallpaper, or organised big birthdays for them before the kid in question could even remember them. Now, of course, I get it. Obviously everyone can conceive of a parent loving their child, but if you haven’t done it yourself, you might not realise quite how much new parents need support and reinforcement: a child’s first birthday is really a celebration of the parents making it through the first year still in one piece, not the baby. Make a fuss of the other parents you know when these milestones happen, because they’ve earned that recognition. And when it’s your turn, be grateful to people who do it for you, too.

8. You will become That Parent

I really didn’t think I’d be Instagramming cute photos of my son, picking up and eating his leftover food, or singing songs to him in public on the pram. I didn’t think I’d construct impromptu dance routines in my living room for the amusement of a ten-month old. All of it goes out of the window: unless you’re as strict as a monk you’ll inevitably break whatever “I promise this account won’t become #babyspam” pledge you make. That said, I have stuck rigidly to my pre-baby insistence that our home remains a #babyshark-free location.

9. Everyone else is winging it too

You kind of get let into this secret once you’re a few months in and start socialising with parents of older children. You’ll watch their routines and processes much more closely now you know it’s a preview of your future, and that’s when you’ll realise that far from all your mates being pre-ordained parenting experts as soon as they saw that clear blue line, the reality is that they’re figuring it out as they go along, improvising based on what they think is probably the right methodology, or just being inventive when they’re too knackered to do anything more mainstream. Follow their lead and don’t feel guilty.

10. Trust your partner – you’re a team now

Forget moving in together or getting married, this journey you’re on is going to be the biggest thing you’ll ever do and the toughest test of your relationship. You’re going to need to work together like never before, be able to function and communicate when you’re both at your lowest, and problem-solve and collaborate when you’re tired, covered in mess and trying to keep an infant alive. It sounds daunting, and it is, but it’s crucial you go into this knowing what you’re up for. On the plus side, it can bring you even closer together as you forge unique new memories and traditions, and the sheer realisation that your love has formed life is an incredible bonding tool.

11. Joy will find you unexpectedly

You might be missing out on things that previously made you happy (the pub, the cinema, free time, going out, etc) but you’re about to discover tiny little joys in life that you didn’t know existed. The giggle that Ted makes when I tickle his face by gently brushing it against a flower is my favourite sound on the planet, and it’s not even one I knew existed a year ago.

12. It’s the best thing ever

And of course, to end on a high: you’ll never have happier moments. Children are amazing at making you forget all the challenges they put you through when they do something sweetly unexpected: Ted saying “dad” when he sees me (“did he really just say that?”); having endless tickle fights and hearing his overjoyed giggling; the way he tenses up his whole body with excited anticipation before the dragon makes an appearance in Room on the Broom because he knows it’s coming: these moments make my life worth living in a way I couldn’t conceive of before parenthood.