Kids are great. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself. But as they rapidly advance from diapers and immobility to ambulating all on their own and developing amusing little personalities, there’s a downside. Namely, they start forming their own opinions and proceed to share those opinions with you at every turn. Not only that, but then they start telling you what’s what. Will has learned what is and isn’t appropriate to say. Which is good for the most part. The thing that sucks is he’s like a little language Nazi, not letting us get away with anything anymore. [...]
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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.
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It goes without saying if I was making a Top 10 List of Kodak Moments I’d have limitless options. There are stories, videos and pictures of meaningful occurrences involving Will. A cornucopia of Kodak moments and instances of self-discovery that have forever changed my life. That have made me alternately swell with pride and tear up with joy. Memories I will always have in my heart that will make me smile whenever I think of them. This is not one of those moments. [...] And somewhere in the middle of this tempest of misery and heartache I’m stuck in traffic either on my way to or from work. I can’t move. All I see are brake lights. I’m hemmed in while my son grows up without his beloved pets, without his friends and with a father he sees for an hour a day. The roof over his head isn’t even one I’ve provided. If I’m not providing enough financially and I’m not providing enough emotionally and I can’t give him the things he wants and needs…well, then what exactly am I doing? [...] It’s important not to drink and drive or get so drunk you lose control. But drinking at a football game is fun, it’s not against the law and Tom Brady did nothing wrong by encouraging it. Yet these yuppie, do-gooder morons can’t help but tell us that drinking and swearing at a professional sporting event built on violence and brute strength will somehow irrevocably harm our nation’s youth. [...] What I thought was dead turned out to simply be dormant. Despite having neglected the fire and poured water on it, the unseen embers were still burning hot. Hot enough to reignite the fire when neither of us thought it was possible, all on its own. But only because we took great care in making sure it was built right. Built to last. Built to burn not with early intensity which ultimately fizzles, but a long, slow heat that will see us through the rain and the times we don’t tend to one another properly. [...] |
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