When I'm at home with the kids, I try to be a good dad. Admittedly, I'm not perfect -- mostly because of the drugs, alcohol, and my collection of feral lions. But I hope I maintain a fair balance between being entertaining and effective as a father.
While making breakfast for the kids one morning, I thought I would make them Mickey Mouse pancakes. The pancakes themselves looked rather naked, so I washed some blueberries and apples and created this delectable treat:
Pretty damn cute! So cute that's why I have this picture. I grabbed my camera and took this picture so I could show Lisa when she got home from work. As I sat proudly at the dining table watching the kids gobble up Mickey's face, something hit me. Why did I get so giddy about these pancakes? What the hell happened to me?
One minute I was stoked about my breakfast, and the next I was depressed. I started to recollect a time when I didn't even know how to make a pancake...and I was proud of it! Breakfast was a pop tart and a can of soda: the breakfast of true champions! But look at me now...taking photos of beheaded rodent pancakes. My testicles have disappeared.
For a few minutes, I sat quietly at the table trying to sort things out. There's certainly nothing shameful about being a stay-at-home dad, but has the person I used to be two years ago disappeared? Today, I am a geeky, nonathletic, bespectacled dweeb. Two years ago, I was a...umm...well...let's just continue on reading, shall we?
But I realized I am not the same person I was two years ago. I have two kids. And whether you like it or not, things are going to change. Your priorities shift as much as your waistline. So no need to be ashamed about cartoon pancakes, goofy dancing, or paying off people to tell you you're a great father. Just looking at the kids smiling at their breakfast made me realize two things: being a dad is great, and I better not forget to take my lithium the next time.
1 comment:
It's funny to look around sometime at how different we have become. Two years ago, I thought I would be married now and just enjoying married life. We did not want kids and it was no where near the surface of my mind. I would cringe at the thought.
Two years later, I am a widow. A mere 28 years old (29 in a few days) and now I want kids.
At first I was appalled that I could change so much. But besides just going through grief, I am changing all the time. I am not the same person I was two years ago. And that's okay...
Sorry for the long comment...
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