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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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Vindicated!!

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

I can’t believe a part of me is happy about this, but I can’t help it.

I came home from work late last night and was immediately greeted with a wife who was almost in tears. She just came right up to me and buried her head in my chest and started to tear up. Obviously worried, I quickly asked what was wrong and where was Will. She pulled back, eyes red and filled with shame, and said:

“We can’t leave Will alone on the couch anymore.”

Apparently the baby was crying, the dogs were barking to be let out and she was trying to cook dinner. In other words, a typical night in the life of a mom. So she put Will down on the living room couch for a minute just so she could let Fenway out. And that’s when she heard the “thump.” When she came around the corner she saw Will in the middle of the living room floor about to burst into tears.

He rolled right off the couch. Thankfully our golden retriever was directly under him and somewhat broke his fall. But as a result he rolled right out into the middle of the floor. MJ said he calmed down and stopped crying in less than 10 seconds and had no bruises or signs of trauma. I examined him too and he was fine, smiling away and then going back to sleep peacefully like nothing had happened.

But something has happened. Something huge.

MJ’s invincible Mommy Armor now has a crack in it. Sure she knew she wasn’t perfect, but she truly believed she would never let anything bad happen to Will. She believed that she would never make a mistake or have a moment of poor judgment. I tried to tell her that was an unrealistic belief, but nothing was going to convince her otherwise. And when I dropped Will from his swing last week I think she took a modicum of satisfaction in it. She even made a few cracks after it happened about me being a butterfingers and dropping the baby.

So when I saw that she had a blonde moment that led to Will tumbling off the couch, I had mixed reactions. My first one was to make sure he was OK. When it was clear that he was fine, my second reaction was smug satisfaction and the overwhelming need to rub it in her face. But I didn’t. Mainly because I value my testicles and if I had started in on her in the state she was in last night, I’m pretty sure she would’ve removed them and fed them to the dogs. But make no mistake…I was smiling the smile of a smug and vindicated man!

But seriously, we should probably stop dropping him all around the house. I mean, he’s insulated pretty well and everything, but I’d rather not test the limits of his durability!

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