Working Myself Out of a Job
Dear Marshall & Maggie,
As you know, your Daddy works in Construction. This means a lot of things, such as: I have a potty-mouth (at work, sorry), I work long hours (sorry), and I get to wear ugly, bright-ass orange shirts (for safety) with my boots and jeans. My field is also pretty unique because my projects and goals are always changing. From the minute I start a new project, from the time the first shovel hits the dirt, I am getting closer and closer to being done with it. Now since these letters are written for you, you are probably wondering what my chosen career has to do with anything. Well, as it turns out, my career has prepared me better than I could have imagined for my most important job, being your Dad.
There is a phrase an old Superintendent told me at my first job, who summed it all up when he said, "Every day we come in, we are working ourselves out of our job." The people I meet, the teams I am on, and the things I build, are always changing. My goal, if I am doing my job, is to finish projects. If I have done everything correctly, I will no longer be needed. If I do a bad job, then the people whose buildings I finish working on will always need me around to fix things and answer questions. It is not all bad though, because the best case scenario is I do a good job, and clients call me back again and again to build more things for them!
This can be a harsh reality to accept for some, but I knew what I was getting into. I like the thrill of always being in new places with new teams, doing new things. Accomplishing things and moving on is rewarding to me, which is fortunate, because being a parent is all about changes, and the rewards of doing that job.
Don't get me wrong, change can be terrifying. When you both went from cute little blobs who couldn't move, to unsteady toddlers who had to inch along walls, I was always a step behind you, chewing my finger nails off. But I ultimately knew that when you were an immobile, milk-drinking, and mute little bundle of joy, that was just the beginning. If I did my job correctly, along with the rest of the village raising you, you would no longer need us to take care of you the same way. Instead of constantly moving you around, and making you bottles of milk (through all hours of the night), you then needed to move on your own, and for me to just be there to catch you, instead of carrying you always.
As time goes on, at what seems to be a million miles an hour, I get a new realization every single day that you have moved on to a new phase in life. You learn new words, and how to do new things, and that means we get closer and closer to you not needing me anymore, in some way. As you learned to feed yourselves, you no longer needed us to do it (Yay!). As Marshall learned to pee all over everything, instead of in a diaper, you no longer needed us to change diapers (Yay, sort of!). As you learn to ask for things more and more clearly, you no longer need me and your Mom to translate your crazy baby language.
As I write this letter, I am finishing up the biggest project I have been a Manager on. In a couple of weeks, I will no longer see the same people I have seen every day for the last 2+ years (which is fine by me :). I will no longer be looking at the same plans and schedules, which I could now recite from memory. If I only talk about it as a memory, and sparingly, over the next year or so, then I will have done my job.
Now, work does not matter even a fraction as much as family does. But it does take a lot of your time, and is still a big part of your life, so you need to love what you do. I am fortunate enough that I do, and am able to use it to prepare me for life with you guys. As I move on from something that is less important (work projects) to my most important's life work (you guys), the feelings and consequences are that much more intense, and the changes even greater.
You both fill me with pride every single day, and that is mostly because in a lot of ways, you are needing me less and less. In fact, you will soon be in school, and your family won't be your only source of education (probably a good thing). And from there, you will eventually not need help getting up every day, and then driving places, and ultimately, you will not need even need a place to live anymore (goodbye to my pants!). Every day we are working towards that, and I couldn't be prouder to go along this journey with you. While you won't need me to do things I have been doing, you will always need someone to be proud of you, give you advice, be a friend, and maybe spot a couple bucks (or a beer) here and there.
Here's to many more milestones, and me working myself out of jobs. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Thanks for reading
Love,
Dad
PS: If you want to slow down just a little bit, your Mom would appreciate it :)
As you know, your Daddy works in Construction. This means a lot of things, such as: I have a potty-mouth (at work, sorry), I work long hours (sorry), and I get to wear ugly, bright-ass orange shirts (for safety) with my boots and jeans. My field is also pretty unique because my projects and goals are always changing. From the minute I start a new project, from the time the first shovel hits the dirt, I am getting closer and closer to being done with it. Now since these letters are written for you, you are probably wondering what my chosen career has to do with anything. Well, as it turns out, my career has prepared me better than I could have imagined for my most important job, being your Dad.
This can be a harsh reality to accept for some, but I knew what I was getting into. I like the thrill of always being in new places with new teams, doing new things. Accomplishing things and moving on is rewarding to me, which is fortunate, because being a parent is all about changes, and the rewards of doing that job.
As time goes on, at what seems to be a million miles an hour, I get a new realization every single day that you have moved on to a new phase in life. You learn new words, and how to do new things, and that means we get closer and closer to you not needing me anymore, in some way. As you learned to feed yourselves, you no longer needed us to do it (Yay!). As Marshall learned to pee all over everything, instead of in a diaper, you no longer needed us to change diapers (Yay, sort of!). As you learn to ask for things more and more clearly, you no longer need me and your Mom to translate your crazy baby language.
As I write this letter, I am finishing up the biggest project I have been a Manager on. In a couple of weeks, I will no longer see the same people I have seen every day for the last 2+ years (which is fine by me :). I will no longer be looking at the same plans and schedules, which I could now recite from memory. If I only talk about it as a memory, and sparingly, over the next year or so, then I will have done my job.
Here's to many more milestones, and me working myself out of jobs. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Thanks for reading
Love,
Dad
PS: If you want to slow down just a little bit, your Mom would appreciate it :)
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