It is 3:45 pm. I’m at work.
There are a few ways I can think about the rest of the day.
Here’s what typically comes spilling out of my brain:
“So much stuff to do… what with the kettle bell swings, the cooking, the doing of the works and the writing of the blog posts. How can I keep Aiden busy when I get home?”
That is the status quo of my brain in all things: 1.) here’s this thing I want to do, and 2.) oh crap, I have a kid/wife/relationship/responsibility.
I have a four-month-old son, named Levi. He’s our first, which means I’m learning everything on the fly. I try to keep up with each stage he’s in so I know what he’s supposed to be learning, gauge how he’s progressing, and finally do the normal new dad evaluation, inevitably ending up believing my kid is at least a little “advanced.”
OK, maybe he’s not, but what dad hasn’t thought that?
The thing I’ve noticed most about Levi over the past few months is his new-found understanding of my wife and I. He recognizes us now. He watches us walk in and out the room. He laughs when I do something goofy (like dance and make fart noises). He sees what we’re doing. continue »
“… oh me? I’m waiting for a special delivery…”
Man, this video is creepy… CREEPY
But, you know, no family’s kitchen is complete without the Baby Bullet. continue »
As dads we play a heavy role in the grand scheme of things. We’re a major part of shaping people who shape the world that shapes people of the world with shape-ness and world-ness.
As such, no matter where you were before you were a dad, there’s this thing in us searching for “the way of things.” Like a magnet has a charge of sorts built into it, when your baby flops out of your woman’s body it begs questions like: continue »