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 »
A month or two after becoming parents, after the fog of the early days and weeks had cleared, my wife and I began to settle into new patterns, and new divisions of labor.
One evening, while our son slept, we sat down to dinner. I said something. I can’t even remember what it was. Though whatever it was wasn’t very important. She caught a certain edge in my tone. continue »
Like any man being thrown into the unknown world of madness that is parenthood, I received tons of advice from others:
- “Always hold baby’s head.”
- “Make sure you stay the husband you were before the baby came.”
- “Keep the baby so warm that he is constantly sweating.”
- “No sex for at least 6 weeks.” continue »
When I was getting ready to be a dad, I was freaked out. You may be too…at least a little. However suave, and un-phase-able, and competent a guy you know yourself to be, however many new and unusual life-changing circumstances you’ve come through with your cool still intact – there is something about the transition into fatherhood that is enough to send you off begging for advice from every dad you know. continue »