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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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6 Weeks

This post also appeared on www.capecodonline.com/blogs in the opinion section of the Cape Cod Times, a division of Ottaway Newspapers, Inc.

Will turned 6 weeks old yesterday.

That’s significant for a lot of reasons. He’s now pretty much outgrown his newborn clothes and he’s fitting into all the 3-6 month outfits we had stored away. He’s starting to do some cool things like almost roll over and smile all the time. He’s really getting used to his arm and leg movements and he’s able to focus on things a lot more with his eyes. He’s gotten very grabby and wants to yank on anything he can get his hands on. But for all the milestones 6 weeks of age means for Will, 6 weeks is significant for another reason. A reason that involves mommy and daddy more than Will.

Let’s see, how can I put this in a way that isn’t too graphic? Ah, OK…got it. Here goes:

The doctor said MJ and I are allowed to…eat sandwiches again 6 weeks after Will was born. Medically it’s not a good idea to eat sandwiches together before that, because a woman needs time to recover after going through the trauma of giving birth. We both loved eating sandwiches together before Will was born, so I had this date circled on my calendar. Because frankly, I’m starving and I’m getting a little tired of eating sandwiches all by myself.

So when I got home yesterday, I kindly offered to make MJ a nice big celebratory sandwich. I thought she’d be as hungry as I am, because it had been so long since we were able to have one together. But to my surprise, my wife no longer craves sandwiches. Her not-so-exact quote was:

“No thanks. I’m not hungry for a sandwich at all. Actually I don’t know if I’ll ever want a sandwich again at this point. Nothing personal though.”

Well, you might as well just kick me square in the genitals with an iron-toed boot. She’s not hungry?? She never wants a sandwich again?? I mean I know it’s hard to think about sandwiches when you’re trying to run a household and take care of a demanding baby all day long. But you can’t give up sandwiches. I can’t give up sandwiches! It didn’t even need to be a big sandwich that takes a long time to eat. It could’ve been hastily thrown together and scarfed down in 90 seconds! I just want to eat a sandwich with my wife again like old times. I’M STARVING! And sure I can eat alone but it’s just not the same.

Sandwiches are meant to be shared and honestly, if I continue eating sandwiches in front of the computer I’ve been told I might go blind.

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