On Fatherhood and Time Management

I've been late a lot these days. No, really, it's true. I'm having trouble being on time for the things in life that I've usually been very good about arriving promptly to. For example, I have never once in my life been late to work! Even in my teens I always delivered the paper early and showed up to Taco John's with plenty of time to eat some potato ole's before clocking in. But twice I'm the past two months I have been late to work. Both events were due to simple errors on my part, a causal slip in judgment, that resulted in tardiness at work.

I grew up in a home where being on time meant arriving 20 minutes early... For everything! I can't tell you how many times I sat with my family in the movie theater a half hour before the show began, All the popcorn eaten by the time the lights went down. I don't even want to begin to think about how many hours we spent waiting for others because we were ready so early. And this same sense of timing followed me through college and into my career! My brain was a specially calibrated clock fifteen minutes ahead of the rest of the world.

Where has my superior sense of timing gone? I love you, Rowan, but I think you might be responsible for this! Suddenly, tasks that took two minutes now take twelve! I never knew how challenging putting on socks could be until I attempted it on a wriggling two month old. Talk about slippery! All of these extra challenges result in some serious timing issues!

How do we rectify this, Rowan? I guess we could start preparing to leave even earlier, but an hour before departure seems excessive. I will just have to suck it up and settle for being late more often... I just hope my boss doesn't mind!

Adventures in Fatherhood: Part 1

The first few moments I saw my son were filled with joy, terror, and then extreme joy.

Heather and I spent the nine months previous to Rowan’s birth wondering what our little guy might look like. I hoped he wouldn’t get my ears (I didn’t want him growing up being called “Dumbo” by all of his classmates the same way his father was), and I wanted him to have his mother’s blue eyes and pretty nose! But nothing could compare to the first time I saw this little creature in the flesh!

My first glimpse of Rowan was when he was yanked free of my wife’s body, his tiny torso swinging through the air (okay, he wasn’t all that tiny, weighing in at over 9 lbs, the little porker!). The nurses plopped him down on the warming bed for some quick prep work before they launched him into Heather’s waiting arms for some skin to skin time with mommy.

Looking down at the two of them I thought, “Wow! That’s my son in my wife’s arms! He sure is beautiful! And such a funny shade of blue too. Should he be moving more? OR AT ALL?”

Everyone in the room realized that our little boy had not yet taken his first breath. The nurse grabbed him and launched him once more back to the warming table. They poked, prodded, and rubbed his legs and feet to try and get a response from that little blue bundle.

Panic took my wife and me. For just a few seconds we had held the little guy we had hoped and dreamed about for nine months. Now he was snatched away, and we could only stand (or lay, in my wife’s case) and wait and hold our breaths until he took a breath! That was the first moment in my life that I truly understood helplessness.

A cough! Our little man took his first breath! Another cough or two (probably triggered by the blue bulbous tool stuck down his throat to suck up his lung juices) followed by his first real cry. Such a beautiful sound (at the time, at least)! His color returned and his cries continued.

Heather and I exclaimed over how beautiful he sounded and how relieved we were. And then the most exciting thing happened! He heard our voices, opened his eyes and turned his head to find us. We had talked to him in the womb for months (sometimes reading, sometimes singing) and he recognized our voices and wanted to find us. What a thrill! I know he couldn’t see very well, but he looked all over to find us. Our boy was breathing and he recognized the voices of his parents!

After a few more minutes we were finally able to hold him. His crying stopped and he stared up at us calmly for two hours before falling asleep for the first time outside of the womb. It was an amazing two hours! It was such a long day, and being able to hold, talk to, and love our little boy made it worth it!

That was the first few hours of my adventures in fatherhood, and all I really did was stand back and wait. It would be the next few days that proved to be the real challenge!

The First Two Months

I’ve been a father for all of two months. Do I deserve a medal yet? Absolutely not! Not because I suck as a father, but because this fathering thing is so easy! Okay, not actually easy, but the first two months are certainly not like the horror stories about parenting that my wife and I stumbled across as we prepared for our little man’s arrival. He has been a true joy, and I wake up everyday looking forward to his smile! I plan on going into a bit more detail about my experiences, thoughts, anecdotes, and nuggets of wisdom in time, but for now I just want to share how awesome my little Rowan is!

Here are the past two months in seven Rowantastic moments!

 Day 1! What an angel! You can't see them, but he already has his father's dashing sideburns.

 

Still his first week and still a cutie! 

My little lion man! (Actually, we’re calling him “bear cub”!)

 

All smiles for mommy!

 

He’s a deep thinker, just like his daddy.

Yup.

 

Mr. Serious

 

Classic Rowan

So that basically sums up fatherhood for me. Yes, I'm leaving out dirty diapers, 2:00 am feedings, that dreaded second night, and screams that pierce my brain. But I'll get to those in time. Besides, its the good times that matter the most! The challenging times just get us there.

A Day Late and a Dollar Short

Yesterday was his due date and he continues to camp out in his mother’s belly. I have chosen Leo the Lion as a suitable stand-in to satisfy my fatherly cravings until he is born.

Waiting on the Edge of Fatherhood

                                         (22 weeks!)

In the months leading up to the birth of my son I often find myself standing over his empty crib, contemplating things to come: What will his smile look like? Will he have my color hair? I hope he has all ten toes.

It usually takes me awhile to get deeper with my thoughts, but as I stand there I begin to think about him as he grows up.  Will he want to play games with me? What will he be interested in? What kind of person will he grow up to be?

I suppose a lot of the answers to these questions depend on me… What kind of father will I be? Will I be loving and kind? Strict but fair? Do I also have all ten toes?

There are a lot of fathers out there. I’ve met many in my travels. Some are great. Some are awful. None are perfect. Most try to be the best they can with what they have.

I’d like to be the best dad I can be. With this blog I will document my ongoing pursuit of fatherly (im)perfection. I’ll share my triumphs and successes, as well as my humiliating (but hopefully humorous) defeats.

As I write this, my son has not yet been born. We’re expecting him any day now… I still have a few more days (hours?) to prepare myself to be a dad.

Fatherhood, here I come!