With Ian starting school, this couldn’t have happened at a worse time. I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that my son is smarter than me, and will start to talk more slowly and use smaller words once he realizes that fact. But I could comfort myself in the constants: gravity, DNA is DNA is DNA, a negative times a negative equals a positive (say it!), and that our solar system is comprised of one star and nine planets. Nine!
Kelly knows she can call me during the day; Ian knows exactly when I’ll be home. I met my son when he first took breath, and we haven’t been apart for longer than two days. And this is such a priveledge, such a luxury. Such a blessing.
…fatherhood itself is a constant struggle, a battle. It is not passive or meek. Good fathers must be intentional and vigilent, not simply toward the well-being of our children, but also toward ourselves.
If the headlines of Men’s Health are any indication, the only health problems I need worry about are fatted abs and an idling sex drive. But, really, I don’t think much about my health. For a twenty-eight-year-old male, the only message I’ve heard is that, at some point, I’ll need to have my prostate examined. Even that usually comes with a punchline.
The best quotation on parenting, ever.
After we were finally allowed into the building and staging area, the son started dancing. Knees bent inward, hopping from foot to foot, standing on his toes. Even if you’ve never had children, you know what this means….The closer we came to the ride, the stronger the urge. A combination increasing exponentially toward the moment when the father came to a Father’s inevitable conclusion.
‘Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.’ We are all unique, and God has given each of us our own special talents. Why these gifts if we aren’t intended to use them for His glory?