I'm a 33-year-old father and husband born and bred in Massachusetts. I have a beautiful son named Will, a gorgeous wife named MJ who is far too hot to have married me, a dog I love and two cats I put up with. I'm a smart-ass former newspaper reporter with a penchant for turning a phrase, who decided to go corporate and is now enjoying life as a content manager for a website.
This blog is not just another "daddy blog." Sure I write about my son, but these pages are a record of my life. I don't just highlight the fun milestones like first steps, I also chronicle the "other stuff." The fights, the torment and the doubt that inevitably come with being a husband and father. It's not always puppy dogs and rainbows, but it is very real. And often there is beauty in the sadness, redemption in the struggle.
Thank you for checking me out, giving me a try and sticking around for the journey. If you'd like to contact me you can email aaron_gouveia (at) yahoo (dot) com.
I don’t particularly enjoy hockey, but I would love to see the entire country of Canada collectively commit suicide over this game. My son has similar feelings. Check it out. Nothing like teaching blind nationalism at an early age. [...]
I’m a dad at a play group. And I am trouble. Odds are if you’re a dad and you’ve attended one of these local get-togethers where parents bring their kids to a predetermined destination for play-time or story-time, the first thing you notice is the sound of a record scratching when you walk in. And [...] [...]
Someone recently asked me what the most difficult part of being a father has been. The answer, hands down, is patience. Whether it’s having it, maintaining it or not losing it, patience is a virtue I lack. Unfortunately for me, when you’re dealing with a toddler it’s the one quality of which you need to [...] [...]
Hello, I’m what’s left of the American middle class. And I’m dying. I’m in my 30s and I have a wife and one child. I own a house, and although a man is only a man once he buys land and a domicile, it is this very house that is crushing my will to live. [...] [...]
I hate Tiger Woods. I fully admit, he’s probably the best athlete to ever don funny pants and walk around hitting a small ball with a crooked club. He’s only a few years older than I am, so I distinctly remember being a teenager and watching him make his meteoric rise to stardom. The world [...] [...]
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