Everyone just relax. My new dad blog is not called “My Bullshit Life,” because after all, that would be overtly crass and would alienate most of my readers. BS actually stands for Ben and Sam, my two sons. At this very moment, as I sip a delicious Kraken (the most awesome dark rum on the planet) and Sprite at 3:10am, Ben is just over 4 years and 4 months and Sam will be 2 months in a couple days. Yes, Sam is still a fresh clump of infantile mush. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. He’s just, you know…a baby. Guys don’t excel at babies. We’re “helpers” in those first few months. We change diapers. We melt frozen breast milk. We fetch the butt paste. We work hard to perfect our calming sway. We drive to Walgreen’s in the middle of the night to find dye-free, grape-flavored baby Tylenol. We tirelessly run through our repertoire of funny faces and silly noises, hoping to crack that very first smile. True Super Dad status doesn’t kick in until the toddler years. That’s when we start to shine.
The warm soft truth is I love my boys immensely. I’ve done many cool things in my first 40 years, but there are no accomplishments in that list that make me as proud as Ben and Sam do. I look at them and just feel good about life. But parenthood can still be a bitch and when I’m having one of those head-scratching, what-the-fuck-do-I-do-here moments, you’re going to feel it too. I intend to vent as much as I boast. If I do this any other way, it wouldn’t be honest.
That being said, I hoist my late-night libation and salute you. Blog #1 is in the books. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my wife will be up in a matter of seconds to nurse Sam and I need to be ready to be an awesome helper. Even if it is with rum on my breath.