There was a time in my life that getting to bed at four in the morning seemed early, that getting up before noon was almost unthinkable and that energy seemed to spout eternally from some unknown source.

Then, five years ago, Max arrived.

To say I haven't had a good night's sleep since then isn't entirely true. But I could count my nights of eight hours or more of uninterrupted sleep on one hand. Kids'll do that to you.

And if you think one is tough, try two. I don't even want to think about three or four or...no, I'm not thinking about that at all. There are parents in comic strips who complain that their teenage children sleep too much. Too much? I can't wait for the day when my boys start sleeping in on the weekends. Though, as I recall, I didn't really indulge my sleep habit until I went to college. I might be waiting awhile.

Kids also take much of the fun out of drinking to excess. You try keeping up with two pre-schoolers when your head is pounding and you feel like selling your 80 grit tongue to Home Depot. Did I mention that kids seem to have a sense when you're not feeling well, and they sympathize by screaming their fool heads off for hours at a time? Not exactly conducive to mental stability, but a surefire deterrent to "I think I'll have one more scotch."

Whenever a friend tells me anything along the lines of "I'm not sure if I want kids," I say the same thing: Don't.

This isn't because I hate having kids. Quite the contrary. Max and Sam have completely changed my life. And while there are things I can't do as often now that they're around (go to clubs, eat at nice restaurants, see movies in theaters, take in a play, etc.) there are lots of things I can do with them that I wouldn't otherwise. I always liked Legos, and now I have a good excuse for playing with them.

More interesting to me is watching how different people grow up. I have two younger brothers, but my perspective on their maturation process is obviously skewed. Watching the very different ways that Max and now Sam are learning and growing impresses upon me the utter folly of most education debates. There isn't one way to teach both of my kids, so how can there be one way to teach all of the kids in our country?

Max at five is an impressive young man. I know, I'm a bragging parent, but there it is. He's popular at school, in a low-key way. Basically, he's able to move from group to group and play with everyone. That's good. He takes an interest in almost everything he sees--the speed with which he picks up new ideas is scary. That's normal for kids his age, I know, but it still impresses me. He just finished six weeks of ice skating classes, and by the end of the session he was (literally) skating circles around the other kids. This physical confidence (and ability) is quite new. And it makes me happy to see him enjoying himself as he moves around.

For me, though, the most important thing is what Max teaches me. Sometimes I can see things I don't like about myself reflected in his actions. That gives me incentive to do better and, with luck, correct my bad influence. Sometimes, though, it's just seeing the world through his eyes. In many ways, Max thinks much the same way I do. And so it's always interesting when he doesn't. Then I'm able to see things I never would have noticed without his presence. In many ways, this is the greatest gift of having children.

And so, despite the lack of sleep and decidedly simpler lifestyle, five years of Max has been good for me. I think it's been good for him, too. He seems to be a happy kid who is always on the lookout for something new to learn. That's about all I would want to ask for in a son, I think.

Jon Worley was often a sullen youth, but he got over all that once he discovered the pleasures of better beer.