When I wake up in the morning I wait. It usually happens about an hour or so after I post my morning quotes. I hear a little rumbling from down the hall, and then I hear a faint voice that say’s “da da”. I stay in my bed for a little bit longer because I know the routine. A bottle has to be made, and an over anxious dog has to be let out before I can find the person behind this voice.
As mommy and I do rock, paper, scissors to choose who actually has to bear the cold and take the dog out I hear the voice again, this time it says daddy.
The bottle is in the warmer the dog is out, and now the shadow inside the crib is standing up and excitedly yelling daddy as I walk down the hall towards him. It’s the best part of my morning, and in all honesty I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
I love being a dad. Let me rephrase that. I absolutely love everything that comes with being a father. From the dirty diapers, to the tantrums, to the boogers that end up on the shirt I just put on, I love it all. Because despite the months of sleep deprivation, the gallons of thrown up milk that ended up on me and mommy or anything else, hearing Bryce call my name in the morning makes it all worthwhile.
Daddy’s are starting to become extinct. The term single mother” is becoming more prevalent every day. Fathers are forgetting what being a father actually means. Being a father isn’t throwing the ball to Johnny once a month. Being a father isn’t just about your credit card. Being a father is about your time. Being a father is when you’re present. Being a father is your child knowing that when you’re home nothing else really matters.
I have so many big dreams that I want to accomplish, but the biggest one is being a great father to my child. It’s showing him how to be an even better father than I am when the time comes. I want him to know what real love feels like and how to give it back to others. I want him to know that there’s nothing more important than mommy. I want him to know that time is the most precious gift you can ever give someone else.
I want Bryce to look out in the crowd when he’s the tree in his school play and see mommy and daddy cheering him on, not just mommy. I had a dream the other night that Bryce (whose 19 months) was talking to me in full sentences, and I forgot the conversation but I remember waking up so proud of him. I can no longer watch father/son commercials without getting choked up (thanks Super Bowl) and you know what? I love it.
Baby number two is coming in June, and the cycle will repeat itself. Sleep deprivation, explosive poops, baby spit up, teething, getting sick every week, and all sorts of other fun activities, but I can’t wait. I never thought the best job of my life would involve me changing diapers, but like most daddies I was wrong. (brownie points guys forgive me)