Sometime late in my teenage years, after it became clear that neither me nor my two sisters would turn out to be ax murderers, Cardinals fans or Republicans (we do have a sense of humor though, so relax!), it dawned on me that I didn’t really know what my parents did to ensure we became good people.I don’t remember any landmark moments when they sat us down and said, “This is what you do to avoid being a jerk.” Or “This is how you become a productive member of society.” Or “This is why you shouldn’t hate yourself or other people.” Maybe they did those things and I just don’t remember them, but I don’t think so.So even though I was years away from having kids, I worried that when I did have kids I wouldn’t know what to do. I don’t mean I wouldn’t know how to handle the easy stuff like changing diapers or feeding them. Even if I couldn’t figure that stuff out on my own (or with the help of an awesome wife, which I just happened to luck into), I could have read it in a book.I’m talking about the really difficult stuff. Like how do I make sure my kid doesn’t become the Unabomber, or J.R. Ewing, or Biff Tannen? What if I do it wrong? If they were already on the road to Assholevania could I interject and change their ways?But then a funny thing happened after they were born: I didn’t worry about it as much. I didn’t look at my oldest daughter when she was two and think, “What if she turns out to be a mean girl?” And when my youngest son was born I didn’t hold him in my arms and wonder, “How many ponzi schemes will he operate?”At some point I realized that I’d uncovered the secret to being a good parent. There was no moment of genius. It just sort of dawned on me one day that by spending so much time with my kids I might be helping to shape the sort of person they’ll become. And the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. The best thing any parent can do for their child is to spend time with them.Time.It’s the one thing we can’t buy for our kids. We can’t get it back. We can’t slow it down. And despite the popular phrase, we can’t makeup for it once it’s lost. If it’s gone, it’s gone.Now, I don’t mean to boil down the complexities of parenting into one simple idea. I know there are other forces at work that affect the amount of time we can spend with our children. And, by the way, if you’re a contemptible human being, then your child might actually be better off with you. So ignore my advice.But for most of us, time can work wonders.Our kids are born and they know nothing. And unless you drop them off in the wild somewhere, they’re going to learn things. They can learn those things from you, or they can learn those things from someone else. I’d prefer they learn them from me.So I spend time with my kids. We read, we play school, we play video games, we go for walks, we go to the park, we go to see scary movies, we watch television, we bake, we eat, we listen to Taylor Swift, we color, we do nothing but hang out.And a funny thing happens after days, and weeks, and months, and years of spending time with my kids. They show me that it’s been time well-spent. They show me in how they treat others, how they think for themselves, how they’re not afraid to show affection, and a thousand other ways.Sometimes my kids are jerks. Sometimes they don’t listen, sometimes they don’t do the things they should, sometimes they do things they shouldn’t. They’re not perfect, but they are good. And I know the bad times won’t last too long.It’s not easy. Spending time with my kids means that I don’t spend time doing other fun things like reading, or bike riding, or going out with friends, or watching television. And that’s fine by me. The books, bikes, bars and bad TV will be there tomorrow. But my kids are only this age for today.No way am I going to miss it!+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++Spend some time on my Facebook page, Brett Baker Writes. Like it, please.
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