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Parenting

Projectile Poop and Other Things I Like About Parenting

On the day of my 35th birthday, while changing my three-month old son, projectile poop flew out, landed on a space heater and burst into flames.  Which seems a very apt analogy for parenting.

No matter how valiant our efforts, pooh sometimes happens.

As we celebrate Fathers Day, I am very mindful of the day I became a parent — the morning Mason was born.  My now-ex and I were fortunate enough to be in the delivery room,  holding his birth mom’s hands, and I was overwhelmed by how thoroughly all of my senses were engaged.  It was hard to imagine that this tiny child, who would soon clasp my finger, would be entreated to my care, and I vowed to always remain engaged with him and ensure that he, indeed, had an amazing life.

And despite many upheavals in our life, he and I have remained connected.  Now 11, he has grown into a fine young man: smart, funny, a great athlete, and at ease in virtually any social situation.  His sweet spirit is infectious, and he lightens the hearts of those around him. (more…)