Posts Tagged ‘ my son ’

I Kind Of Have A Man Crush On My Son

Wednesday, August 1st, 2012

20 months.

I don’t envy new dads.

There’s that token “I’m holding my kid for the first time” picture on Facebook that automatically gets like 53 comments and “likes.” I know, because here’s my version of that picture posted 20 months ago.

And then comes the culture shock and the learning curb.

Months later arrives the anger resulting after someone pulls you aside and tells you that it’s normal for an infant to start sleeping through the night at 3 months old and that “crying it out” is just a natural part of it.

“You mean all three of us could have been getting sleep this whole time?!”

Even worse, no one really tells you how to get your baby to sleep through the night, anyway. Meanwhile, the extreme parents try make you feel guilty for even exploring the idea.

Again, I don’t envy new dads.

Hallelujah, I am well past that stage now! I’m no longer a “new dad.” I’m a father of a toddler.

New dads, I am writing you this from the future. It gets better.

A lot better! It took me a while, but I’m finally at that point where I can proclaim, “I LOVE being a dad!”

In fact, I kind of have a man crush on my son.

I add him to my current list of man crushes: Ron Paul, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and Bruce Springsteen.

What really propelled me into this state of fatherhood nirvana was probably this past weekend.

There was nothing monumental about it: We took Jack to swim lessons, and on a wagon ride, and just hung out a lot with him.

But the whole time, he was cool. Not high maintenance, not needy in an annoying way, just chillaxed like Jack Johnson.

Sure, it’s easier to feel good about myself as a dad when my kid behaves well the entire weekend. But his 48 hours of perfect behavior which allowed our family to have fun and stay in good moods was largely a result of my diligence with him.

I love to see those moments of “it paid off!” in parenting.

What topped off this perfect weekend was when my wife handed him over to me to put him to bed for the night. He ran right up to my face as if he was going to awkwardly kiss me like Paul Rudd or something.

Instead, he gave me an “Eskimo kiss.” (My wife has been working on teaching him to do that.)

I can’t explain it. But that somehow melted my heart… but in the most manliest of ways, of course.

 

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