That's the kind of year it was...

When I was a kid, this is what I thought 2010 would look like:

As it turns out for our beleaguered world, 2010 kinda ended up like this:

For me, though, 2010 will always be like this:

I love you. Happy and fortunate 2011, my girl.

Daddy.

Eerste Kerstfeest!!

There it is! The very first Christmas present you have ever opened! It is also the first Christmas present you also have ever put directly into your mouth. You would have done this anyway, but since it turned out to be silverware, I would say that it was a very appropriate first gift to have opened.

Christmas is supposed to be a wonderful time and today has definitely been wonderful. It is also supposed to be a time for family to get together and, well...celebrate being together. Because our family is so spread out all over the world, that just wasn't possible for us to do today. However, to help you know a little bit about this time, I will tell you about what I know of the rest of the family's festivities today:

Auntie Shanna and Uncle Christopher: Are freezing their buns off on a Hawaiian beach right now. Brrr! So cold, I'm sure. Their "white Christmas" consists of fine-grained sand and cocktails from the swim-up bar. Since they are a little bit behind us time wise today, we will be Skyping them later (once Uncle Christopher wakes up from his sunburningly delicious nap at low tide.)

Uncle Joep: I don't know what Uncle Joep is doing today. He lives in a stately appartment in a posh London neighborhood, so I assume he is doing something stately and posh. He may, in fact, have braved the European weather and gone to Barcelona (which, for some reason, is where the Dutch seem to think Santa Claus lives...crazy Dutch and their love of the Spanish). Let's say that he has gone to Barcelona and is also getting a suntan whilst enjoying a stately cup of the poshest Spanish eggnog (I don't know if the Spanish do eggnog, but I am going to assume that, if they do, it would be spicy)!

Grandma Kat and Grandpa Brian: Are visiting with GG Marg and GG Keith today. Their white Christmas actually consists of snow which, much to GG Marg's surprise, Grandma Kat has no end of poetic words for. The night before last, we had a chance to speak on the phone and o raise at least one glass of Holiday cheer. I understand that Grandpa Brian had had more than one cup of holiday cheer recently and paid for it by making a holiday call on the big white telephone. Follow that link when you are older and heed its warning.

Grandpa Neil and Grandma Daphne: Are mysteriously silent when telephoned and so, I will make something up. They are swimming with the Dolphins who, as the result of an amazingly well-timed world tour, are visiting south eastern Saskatchewan and are available for pictures with the kids (but no autographs) between 2 and 4 local time. How delightful.

Grandma Marjo and Grandpa Stan: Grandma Marjo is here with you and is helping you comprehend exactly what all those colored blocks are for. Though you seem to believe they are a form of dense food, they are actually for tower building and, subsequently, glorious tower destruction. We Skyped with Grandpa Stan this morning to discover that his white Christmas involves so much snow that a Belgian church has actually caved in. Yet further evidence that (a) God is clever with His humor and (b) participating in organized religion is at least a little dangerous. Grandpa Stan was, happily, not near the church when it caved in (nor, mercifully, was anyone else, I understand). On the downside, he has had much of his Holiday travel plans curtailed by what seems to be the European storm of the century. Snowstorms AND wet cold. Let's send him lots of warm love!

GG Marg and GG Keith: As mentioned above, Marg and Keith have enjoyed a visit from Kat and Brian today. GG Marg loves Christmas and loves being able to be with her family as often as possible. The snow has been fairly heavy down there where they live too, so unfortunately it has been hard to get around. Understandably, this can bring even the cheeriest elf into a bit of a funk. It's hard, you know, for GG Marg and the family to be so far away from where you are having your first Christmas so it's extra important for us to let everyone know how much we are thinking of them and how much we wish we could be there too (even in the icky snow)! GG Marg and GG Keith are always thinking of you and how happy you coming to our family has made them. They have sent some really wonderful gifts along too to keep you warm, safe, and happy in the days and years to come.

When I was little, Christmas was one of the most exciting times for me. As a kid, you get a lot of attention at this time of year and it can be a lot to get a handle on. As I got older, I still enjoyed Christmas time but the focus changed for me. It became less about the stuff in the boxes and more about the stuff you can't fit into a box (much less describe). It's hard to have your first Christmas away from the majority of the people who love and think about you all the time. It's just important to remember that the stuff in the boxes is just a way of trying to say from afar all those things that can't be wrapped up. You have a lot of people who love you, my dear. The best gift they can ever receive in return is the sight of your happiness and contentment. And, of course, Chapters cards for your Dad.

Love and Blessings to you and the whole family on your very first Christmas ever!

Cheers

Dad.

Oma!

One enduring and wonderful fact about the family you have joined is this:

You have a profusion of grandparents.

To make naming all of them simpler, your Dutch family is easily identified by their Dutch names! And this special lady is your Oma! Today is her birthday and I would like to tell you a bit of what I know about her!

Most importantly, you love her! You love her in a way that is really unique to her. You waved to her first. Your first sounds sounded like "Oma." You laugh every time you see her.

And while some parenting experts will blame all of the above on baby gas pains, I like to think it's because of something I call the "Grandparent's Genius". The "genius" involved is something your Oma has in droves: the knowledge that her primary job as an Oma is to make you laugh, wave, and babble. Omas have the best job because (a) it's one they have done before, (b) it's one they did a long time ago and that they miss, and (c) it's one that's impossible to screw up. Your mother and I are the ones responsible for making all the mistakes and Oma is the one responsible for making you laugh, wave, and babble. There are very few unsightly diapers, arguments about curfew, and no university bills to pay. There gets to be just laughter, waving, and babbles.

Your Oma knows this and loves this. She gets to come see her own little girl and to play with her darling granddaughter as long as she wants and then, when she feels like stretching her legs, she can walk through the park and try to find a place that will let her drink a beer in the sunlight (which are few and far between in our current location...though this rarely stops your crafty Oma...the "Grandparent Genius" also involves knowledge that cops rarely hassle Omas about sneaking a sip of beer here or there).

Your Oma has been there since your first breaths and blinks. Already, she has wiped your runny noses and played with you on the beach. She has rocked you to sleep and comforted your parents when they needed it too. She is here to laugh, wave, and babble with you and she loves you too.

Happy Birthday, Oma!

I'm still here

Hey sweetie. I'm sorry for the relatively emotionally heavy tone of the last few entries (and, if you are reading them backwards, then I apologize in advance that you may have to spend more money on Kleenex...do they have Kleenex in the future?).

I'm having a hard time lately getting even enough time to Tweet let alone time to write blogs to you (do they have Twitter in the future too?). In fact, part of the point of this entry is to let you know that I'm sorry this is a bit of a theme in our lives right now. I am finding that my new job is making it necessary for me to be away from you for really long periods during each day and it bothers me. What bothers me more is that, often when I am at home, I feel very burned out and I am either too stressy or too tired to be much fun.

I am not complaining. Daddies (and Mommies) who have jobs outside of their homes have to be away from their babies. It's a good thing because it means that we are able to get stuff so we can take care of you properly. I am lucky enough to really enjoy what I do and I promise you that if I ever stop loving what I do, I'll start doing something different (Mommy can tell you that I'm a real grouch if I have to do something I don't want to do). The reason I mention this is because I want you to know that, even though I have to be away from you during the day, I'm still here and I am completely in love with a whole bunch of things that you will never remember doing, saying, being, or trying.

The fact that you won't remember these times is a double-edged sword. I clearly have to tell you that I was gone a lot during the daytimes of your early childhood because you won't really remember that happened. Unfortunately, it also means that you won't remember the cool stuff and the laughs that we get to have when I am home. Your Mom says that you won't remember the actual events but that your heart will remember the feelings you had. If that is true, I hope you remember how happy you feel when I return home at the end of the day instead of the fact that I'm gone for most of it.

Here are some things I wish you would be able to remember:

• How hard you try to find me when I hide behind the corner.
• How often you have used my chest hair as a balance aid.
• How much you love the fact that I won't let you play with my eyeglasses and how hard you consequently try to get them off of my face.
• How you babble to me because you know I need to be able to talk to you.
• How you immediately started licking an old breakfast plate when I was momentarily mesmerized by the new version of Pac-Man for the PS3 (a classic computer system that was used for playing amusing and, clearly, distracting video games).
• The fact that you puke on me often and without so much as a belch to alert me to the coming flood.
• Your face the first time you tasted solid food (sweet potato). I have never seen a more exquisitely balanced expression of both pleasure and alarm in my life. It was like the face you would have if a blessed Angel of God Almighty had just appeared before you and then slapped you across the cheek.
• The fact that you love being spooked and surprised by us. You have the loveliest bated-breath grin every time we figure out a new way to sneak up on you or swing you around. I am in no hurry for you to develop fear.

There are a zillion other things I am forgetting. I'll write other posts about them later. For now, the last thing I would love for you to be able to remember is in this picture:

I haven't shared this picture with anyone until now. I don't know why...mostly because I forget to. But it might also be because this is the moment I met you...and that's something that is just ours. For a few moments, the nurses, your Oma, and Auntie Nicola just left us alone and let us bond. After 30 hours of trying to get into the world, you were born. This is the very first time you looked up at me and I looked down at you. If you could have spoken at that moment, I think you would have said something like, "What the hellllll just happened??" The best part was when I was able to just hold you and you stopped crying. Your alert little violet eyes were still darting all over the place trying to adjust, but your heart was calm. You'd been fed by your Mother and then held securely by your Father (securely because I sat the heck down). In that moment, I looked down at you and told you who I was (I think I told you my name) and that I was there for you.

And I'm still here...even when I am away.

Dad.

Hands of Time

This is your hand in the hands of your Great-Grandfather. His real name is Kenneth Edward, but everyone he knows just calls him "Keith." Today, is his birthday. Even though you have met him in person, you are too young to have remembered it, so I will tell you a bit about it.

Like your Great-Grandmother Margaret, your GG Keith has seen a lot of stuff in his lifetime. In fact, he's just a little older than your GG Marg so you could say he has seen even more! He was the oldest in his family and learned at an early age to take care of his father, brother and sister. He has been a soldier, a bus driver, a barber and a pool-hall owner. He has danced on tabletops and broken more than a few hearts. These are all stories that I have heard. In my lifetime, though, the way I know him best is as a storyteller in his own right. He is someone who loves to share what he has seen and done and, most exciting of all, he is someone who loves you very much (though he has only met you once!)

The first day we took you to meet Grandpa Keith was the day the picture above was taken. It was a beautiful summer day and you were a little finicky (I think it was a lot for you to drive so far and see so many new people in so short a time). When we brought you to see him, Grandpa had been watching news (he likes to do that) and waiting for us. Grandpa doesn't openly show excitement at too many things, but the moment he saw you, he smiled his crooked smile (the same one YOU have, incidentally). We got you out of your carseat and you were excited to be free, but when your eyes met his, you and he both drifted into the sweetest look between you. The best moment, though, was when Grandpa held you and you cuddled up to him. You don't cuddle just anyone, you know. It was beautiful to see. The photo above is one of many that we took that day.

Take a good look at your hands together there. It's important. Why? Because between your two sets of hands there is almost a century of experience and love. Between your hands are three continents of travel (you, my dear, have already been to Europe ;)), years of hard work and joyful play, and the sacrifice of a generation made in the hopes that you could grow up freely. Your hand in his is the affirmation of years of dedication to family and country and the sheer innocence of it often brings a tear to the eyes of people around you. Your hand in his not only made is day that day; it made his lifetime. Your hand in his is the picture of love.

Love,

Sdad (I actually started typing my own name. Thought you'd like that.)

Hey Baby! I Miss You! (And Mommy too!)

Hey snickerdoodles. It has been just about a week since I saw you last. You are with your Mommy in the Netherlands visiting Oma and Opa. I want you to have a record of this because, at this moment, you have already visited more countries in this world than I have (Me: 2 - You: 5 before this trip is over). Right now, you are in a lovely farming area in the south of Holland. The weather, I am told, is not very summery and I also hear that you are rather spooked by Mommy's horse.

I also want you to know I miss you. Even though this includes being sorta weepy when I look at your picture (which, incidentally, is everywhere in the house), it's something deeper than that as well. At the end of the day, it's really a parent's job to make sure that their child can live happily without him or her. It's a hard pill to swallow when, in parenting, a person gives so much of themselves to their children. Now, with you being only 4 months old, it would be silly to think of that happening any time soon, but with you so far away it is apparent just how much I need YOU right now.

I used to have this life. This life where nothing mattered except what I wanted to do at any given moment. It seemed delightful (and don't get me wrong...it's awesome...you should do what YOU want at any given moment...unless I tell you not to). But that's just not the case anymore and I LOVE that. I GET to do what I want to do WITH you. Eventually, you will get to do what you want to do WITH me! I get to SHARE something that I was keeping just for myself and I could never have guessed how much more infinitely awesome it is to do with another person. With you and your Mommy across the ocean, I don't have to worry about waking you up by playing my videogame too loudly but I also don't get to see you wake up (which sucks, by the way. You are a very pretty baby...especially when you wake up!)

This trip is good for you. In your life, I want to make it possible for you to see the whole damned world (and own some of it, if you can). Don't ever not go! But don't ever forget how much I will love to see you come back.

Ik hou van jou

Pappa

My favorite things you are doing - Part I

Hey...I know I haven't written in a while...there have been a lot of things going on...BUT...I have to let you know these things when they come up. This isn't the first thing, but it's a big thing:

Tonight, just a minute ago you laughed. And I'm not talking like an accidental little gurgle as you fart...You LAUGHED. Out loud. At me. You looked me in the eye as I bobbled my head and made funny noises and you considered it in all its silliness and you laughed a few great belly laughs.

Sadly, this is sure to cause me to bobble my head and sound silly on a more regular basis. Way to go...you made me into this bobble-headed silly creature.

Love,

Dad

Your Great-Grandma Dyon

This is you with your Great Grandmother Margaret. Her birthday is on July 26th. The first one of these was in 1922. That makes her 88 years old in just three days from now.

Not everyone has a Great Grandparent (like your Mom). And no one has one who loves their Great-Grandchild more than you do, that's for sure. Auntie Shanna and Grandma Kat were pretty sure they would have to lay down a drop-cloth in GGMarg's house for her first meeting with you. Why? Because they were certain she would simply explode with joy when she met you for the first time (she didn't explode, but she did make some amazing noises.)

For her birthday, I am afraid that this blog post pales in comparison to actually getting to hold you, but it's the best I can do at this distance. Few things in this world come close to the happiness a person can feel when they see their own child meet the people who have brought him up. It's like the universe coming full circle as you, now only a baby, look into the eyes of a person removed from you by three whole generations. It's a special gift not many people get to give to their children or, indeed, to their grandparents and so it was really special for you to be with GGMarg so close to her birthday. In a word, YOUR presence was the best present she could ever have gotten.

You likely will not remember the event, however, so I will fill you in on some details that you may not know about GGMarg. She was born in the family home by midwife only miles from the great Saskatchewan sand dunes. She was 17 when the Nazis invaded Poland and about 80 when she sent her first email. She didn't know English until after she was 5 years old but now prefers English to the German she and her parents spoke at home in Fox Valley, Saskatchewan. She was 33 when she had your Grandma Kat - the same age as I was when I had you (well...when your Mom had you...who is also 33). She was a nurse before she married GGKeith and it was at the Antler Hospital that she discovered information about feminism...a full 18 years before most people would ever hear about it. Being deeply Christian she sneakily baptized Shanna and I when she was left alone to babysit us. She only recently told our mother this information.

As you can see, she has had an action-packed life thus far. None of that held a candle to holding you for the first time, though. I was there...I could see nothing but the most youthful excitement about looking into your eyes (and that's saying a lot about a woman who has enough energy to routinely get up at 3:00 am to putter around and bake).

There is no doubt that you are deeply loved by your Great-Grandmother. What was beautiful to see is that you have deeply loved her back. And to know that you have likely now been baptized when I wasn't looking.

Wish your GGMarg a very happy birthday for Monday. I love you, Snickerdoodles.

Daddy

Where do you come from? Part II

Last time, we talked about Netherland (which is the name your Mother informed me that the country currently goes by). Now it's time to learn a bit about the other half of your heritage...Canada.

I have to do less impromptu research for this one since I have been here all my life. In fact, with very few exceptions, I have actually spent my entire life in this beautiful country. I am sure you will be able to tell that I am biased, but I will try not to let it get the best of me. Besides...a country like Canada sells itself, so it doesn't need any help from lil' ol' me.

First things first. In the photo below, you will see Canada and Netherland shown so you can get an idea of their sizes. If it seems like Canada is going to eat Netherland, fear not...Canada knows that doing that would cause it to get WAY too high (I will explain what that is later.)



Yes. Canada is BIG. There is really no getting around it. What's cool about being so big is that you can see and experience just about everything the world has to offer without ever needing a passport. How do I know this? Because I still don't have a passport, and I have seen everything except rain forrest (but no worries...they have them on the Queen Charlotte Islands).

Since I did a blog about Netherland as a person who knew nothing about it, I thought that it would be fun to ask your Mom about her first impressions of Canada. The answers were instructive of what Canada is for people who didn't grow up here. These are her answers:

1) It's big (see above).

2) It's cold.

3) Strangers talk to you (but, just so we are clear, YOU are not to talk to strangers).

3.5) Canada is 270 times bigger than the Netherlands and only has twice the number of inhabitants.

4) Our cheese has very little taste.

5) Canadians are more excited about illicit substances than the Dutch (even though the Dutch are famous for them).

6) We are, for all intents and purposes, America's hat (despite the fact that we consider ourselves to be very different from the Americans).

Please understand that I have taken some artistic license with your Mother's words, but these are basically the spirit of her answers to my questions.

Now, while taking nothing away from Mommy's answers, I thought there might be some other fun facts that you could use to amaze your Dutch family and friends!

7) The Dutch flag is the only other country's flag to have ever flown upon Canada's Parliament.

8) The Dutch Royal Family annually gifts 10, 000 tulip bulbs to Ottawa as a remembrance of the kindness shown by the Canadian government to the family during World War II.

9) The Dutch Princess Margriet was born in Canada when the family was taking refuge here in 1943. In order to make sure that she was considered a Dutch national, the Government of Canada passed a special act that declared the birth "extraterritorial."

10) In the Groesbeek Canadian War Cemetary, the children from the town tend to the graves of the Canadian soldiers who died in the liberation of the Netherlands.

I guess your Mom and I are meant to be together!

Happy Canada Day, love!

A Post from Ella Luna and Mommy for Father's Day

Hi Daddy
We hijacked your blog to wish you a very happy father's day and to make you cry a little.
You have made mommy cry many times with your sweet and touching blog posts and this time it is our turn to see if we can do the same for you.

She made this video of you and me and my job was to be as cute as I could be in it, which as you know is VERY cute. Just so you'll never forget how much we love you, what a wonderful daddy you are and that we'll keep you forever!

Lots of lovebombs
Ella Luna and Mommy

My Father's Day Gift

So, as you read these, you will read them from the most recent post to the oldest posts. You may notice at this point that, from your point of view, the posts start coming more frequently. That is because I have had less and less time to sit and write since your birth. I do not begrudge this at all, but I want you to understand why you were getting all of this wonderful stuff towards (from your point of view) the end of the blog.

Which brings me to the other thing: gifts. This blog is intended to be a lifelong gift from me to you. In a way, it's the best thing I can give because it keeps on going for as long as I have time to write down my silly little thoughts. From your point of view, however, this blog ends with its first entry...so it's kind of like a way for you to travel through time to the beginning of your life and the beginning of my life with you. As I write this I am hoping that you will use this list of posts as a way to know the things you just can't ask me at the moment...to know the depth and the breadth of my love for you and a little bit about me as a person (we sometimes have a hard time seeing our parents as people independent of ourselves.) To paraphrase Elton John, my gift is my blog and this one's for you!

Now, whatever I may say later in life, the only gift I need from you is your happiness. I want you to take full advantage of the blessings we have been provided in our lives together and for you to be the fullest and best you that you can be! That's it! I think, at the heart of it, that's all any parent wants for their children...to have them smile and to know that he or she helped provide that smile. These days, you smile when I help you burp or fart but I know it won't always be so simple.

You are the best part of my world and that is the best gift I will ever know. Thank you for letting me be your Daddy!

S

Meet your Uncle Christopher: The "Cool" Uncle

This is your uncle Christopher. It's his birthday today and I thought I would let you know a little bit about him. He lives in sunny Vancouver (at present) with your Auntie Shanna in a dreamy palace called a "condo." Uncle Christopher is the person whose company you will prefer to your father's when you are about thirteen years of age.

Why is that?

The reasons are numerous, but first and foremost: because he's not your father...he's your uncle. The second and secondmost is that he's your uncle with beer.

I will say this right now: there is far more to your uncle Christopher than beer. He is an accomplished businessman and is a caring partner for my sister, but to a thirteen year-old you, he is going to be the fun uncle that hikes up mountains for fun and then hoists a frosty beverage at the summit. And the coolest part? He made the frosty beverage he drinks.

Your uncle is in the volatile but never boring beer industry. I would not feature this so heavily if it did not have so much to do with how he came into our lives. I first came to know of him by way of an alarming phone call from my sister's friend one morning before I was on my way to work. This friend had taken auntie Shanna and my van out the night before on an uncharacteristic night of bar-hopping (uncharacteristic for Shanna...I think her friend was more accustomed to it). When I answered the phone that morning, I learned that this "friend" had allowed my delicate sister to be spirited away into the night by a sterling swashbuckler she identified only as "some beer guy."

I was, of course, livid. How could this girl have been so irresponsible as to misplace my sister? A "beer guy?" These roving bandits are the greatest Lotharios alive! Would I ever see my lovely and modest sister again? Most importantly: where was my van? I had to get to WORK!

After some time (4 minutes and 37 seconds) of intense panic, my sister (and my van) showed up safely and soundly. She explained that she enjoyed a glorious and colorful night at one of the city's less reputable but more exciting all-night coffee shops with a delightful fellow named "Christopher." It turned out that he was, in fact, a beer guy but he was more of a beer-selling guy in town to make sure that business was solid at one of his more profitable accounts.

A nice guy. Who takes my sister to coffee shops and protects her from roving weirdos at 4 a.m. A guy with a job and a plan and respect for women (are you taking notes here?). That didn't sound so bad.

I wish I could say that my suspicion ended there, but it did not. Greatly assuaged though it was, my concerns did not fully abate until uncle Christopher came to the city some weeks later and introduced himself to me. He looked me in the eye, shook my hand, and treated me to a beer (or two...Daddy never has more than two of those).

Since then, I am happy to report that we have grown very close. Uncle Christopher is a valued and loved member of our family who has demonstrated time after time that he isn't afraid of the oddity of our small Saskatchewan clan or the panic-attack babysitting that comes with it (sea kayaking, anyone?). I think for people like your Mommy and Uncle who come to us from experienced and well-traveled people, it might take some getting used to our relatively unadventurous prairie natures. But I'll tell you a little secret...one that only you, me, and (now) the whole internet knows: I may have taken some getting used to, but he had me at "Full-Bodied and Refreshing Lager."

So, let's tell him together: Happy Birthday, Uncle Christopher! Feel free to stop by our house for 2 (and ONLY 2) beer!

Love, Dad

Diapers? THIS is wayyyy harder...

Alright...I am going to level with you: I am not fashion-forward. I am typically found in the least-dirty superhero-themed T-shirt I can find and have no compunction about sleeping in my jeans. As you might well imagine, then, my understanding of your outfits leaves something to be desired.

Case in point: This evening, I changed your diaper and then was directed by Mommy to put a new outfit on you. I would likely have left you naked as the temperature upstairs is nearing that of the ninth circle of hell. Your Mommy, though, thought you might be cold so I was directed to locate a "short-sleeved and open-bottomed" outfit for you. I searched for whole minutes as you lay patiently waiting on the change table, but I couldn't find any garment that fit this description. Mommy, hearing my panicked bickering from afar then lightened her criteria and told me to just find "anything."

Anything! I could find that! There were a whole BUNCH of things in the drawer. My eyes went directly to an outfit I have seen your mother call "her favorite" and thought there was no way to go wrong! Warm baby AND happy Mommy: what could be better??

The outfit I spied was a pink, long-sleeved and legged jumper. It has approximately 42 buttons on it and opens from both the top and the bottom. I placed you atop the open getup and commenced the operation of getting you into it.

For the record, you are far too interested in moving to be co-operative right now. You prefer mostly to flail your new little arms and legs about rather than be dressed. I get it: you are part European and clothes are optional for you. I was, however, woefully unprepared for the task of fitting you into and then fastening a suit of this complexity. To your credit, you lay there quiet as a mouse watching with bemusement at my obvious struggle. At the end of several minutes of playful jostling, you were IN and I was about to be the victorious baby-dressing daddy!

When your Mommy saw the outfit, though, she maintained her excitement very well.

"Look at you dressed up like a Princess for bed. Daddy put you in your best clothes as pyjamas!" she said to me by speaking to you.

"What do you mean? You said put anything on her. I have heard you call this one your favorite!"

She laughed as if to chastise herself for expecting a monkey to type the text of Hamlet, "Yes...for the daytime."

The good news? I got your diaper on JUST right so you won't get anything on your best outfit...for the daytime.

Love you BOTH

Daddy

Hey Baby's First Videos!

These are videos from your first walk. See how awesome I am when I get a camera in my hand. Mommy can barely stop laughing!

Day 5 of your life

Good day my little love. You are off to a banner start! You love to eat, poop, cry, and sleep! In baby terms, that means all is well!

It might be interesting to note that, since your birth (and quite by coincidence), everything I have been seeing and reading has been about parenthood. In fact, I walked into the library yesterday and the first thing I saw was a pamphlet about reading with your baby. Of course, I picked it up and even picked up some of the books that were suggested. Did you KNOW that babies like you really like high-contrast images and melodic tones? Well you DO! And now we have some books that have those things in them.

Now, to be fair, you aren't paying much attention to the books. You mostly just suck your finger and look around. But you do seem to like when Mommy and I sing Mother Goose nursery rhymes to you. You even snuggled your ear closer to my chest as we sang to you tonight...it must be easier to feel the vibrations in my chest than to make out the clamor of our voices.

It might also be interesting to note that you are already smiling and communicating with us. You can't really smile properly yet, but you sure try. Like me, you seem happiest just after you have eaten or slept. Also, you make a lot of different faces that we are gleefully mimicking for you to see.

Your eyes are blue and your hair is red-gold. Your mood is generally happy and you are very content unless you are hungry (which is fairly regularly). At all other times, you are pretty blissed out and even a bit floppy in your relaxation. I would be alarmed by this except for the fact that I used to be exactly the same and would be still if anyone could pick ME up and carry me around between feedings.

I'm sorry this is a hodgepodge of tales. I have heard all my family and friends talk about how they regretted missing out on all these little things when their kids were just little. The little things, they have said to me, all went by so quickly and they didn't always take the time to appreciate them. Well, for me, I have one more day before I go back to work and I am happy to say that your mother and I have barely been able to take our eyes off of you. I am happy to say that we are just taking each moment we can to enjoy every little face you make and every little peep that escapes your mouth. We delight in the brief moments of recognition when your eyes and ours meet. We even delight in your cries and your dirty diapers (though I am sure the delight will give way to other feelings soon). In short, we are savoring each of these little moments with you because they are each unique and too brief.

We love you with all our hearts and are so glad to finally meet you. Goodnight our gorgeous little lady.

Love,

Dad

YOU'RE HERE!!! Welcome, Ella!

You finally arrived! It wasn't like you wanted to come, either...we worked really hard for over 30 hours and finally, we had to reach in there and get you!

But now that you are here, we can't think about anything other than how wonderfully beautiful you are.

Welcome.

More pictures to come!

Mom and Dad!

You're Late!

Well, Baby...it's time we talked about punctuality. I know that there are places and times where being "fashionably late" is acceptable. It is, however, rare for one to excersize this style when it comes to their own party. Furthermore, while one to two hours is often acceptable if one decides to be late, it is almost never befitting the guest of honor to be more than twelve days late.

I suppose, in this one case, we can make an exception. It is, after all, the first time you have ever had a birthday so I guess it's important to choose well (though I am not sure your Gemini father is prepared for the awesome power of a Taurus child who also happens to be a Tiger).

We, your loving parents, would appreciate if you would heed all future arrival and departure times as directed. These include, though are not limited to, dinner times, bed times, school times, homework deadlines, good times, bad times, and date curfews.

Addendum:

In the Chinese Zodiac, both your mother and I are Snakes. You are a Tiger. We are potentially incompatible signs. Here is what one website has to say about our relationship:

For a husband and wife, parent and children or brother and sister relationship that falls under such combination, there will be quite frequent disagreements. The possible reason for meeting in such circumstances in this life are partly due to destiny or previous unresolved deeds, depending on who is the debtor or debt-collector.

In the case of the Western Zodiac, you will be a Taurus and I am a Gemini. Your mother is a Capricorn. Here is what it says about Gemini/Taurus:

Gemini Parent/Taurus Child: The flirty and flighty Gemini adult in this relationship, coupled with the accompanying hectic social schedule, may prove somewhat unsettling to any peace-loving Taurus child. The little Taurus craves comfort and security with few interruptions. However, any home run by a Gemini is sure to be filled with callers and weekend guests. Nonetheless, beneath his or her stubborn exterior, the little Taurus does find enjoyment in the company of others and takes great pleasure in the fine food and extragagant gifts often associated with the "social whirl" of his or her Gemini parent. It is beneficial to the young Taurus to learn how to mingle and natives of Gemini have perfected this social grace. In return, the Taurus child can provide the unsettled Gemini parent with a solid ground to return home to after all the guests have departed.

And here is what it says about Capricorn/Taurus:

Capricorn Parent/Taurus Child: Both being governed by the element of earth, this parent/child combination will be a compatible one. Both will be practical and sensible and share a love of material security. The Capricorn parent will set boundaries with which the Taurus child is happy to comply...it makes he or she feel more secure. In addition, the Capricorn parent is one upon whom the Taurus child knows he or she can depend. In turn, the Capricorn parent knows that when he or she sets a task for the Taurus child, that task will be done and done correctly. There will be much love and appreciation in this parent/child relationship and the Capricorn parent will work hard to provide the luxuries so loved by both the child and the adult.

I guess, in the end, I can say I am happy you will get along with your mother ;). I'll love you just as much, but will likely annoy the crap outta you. Oh well...Off to buy a cardigan sweater so I can embarrass you in front of your friends by talking about the good old days of "Grunge." Hahahahaha. This is going to be hilarious!

Addendum #2

Your mother just yelled at me from the other room. She was born in January of 1977 which, in the Chinese Zodiac, makes her still a Dragon rather than a Snake. Dragons and Tigers:

Tiger	Steady relationship since they are familiar with each other's talents, and a good team in business.
Tiger-child -	Disagreements may happen if the DRAGON-parent does not understand the child.

Love,

Your star-crossed Dad!

Our "Guru Baby."

You will be excited to know that you already have a name of sorts. Around Guru, where your mother and I met, you are already famously-dubbed "The Guru Baby!" Here is a little Google Search Story that I made to sort of sum up the prelude to this world.

You should also know that tomorrow is your birthday. Or rather, it is supposed to be...but you are already being stubborn and not showing signs of arriving any time soon. It's OK, though...we will be here for you when you are ready.

Love,

Dad!

5 things we should have gotten Auntie Shanna for her birthday instead of this lousy blog post

So, it's Auntie Shanna's birthday on Thursday and this is how I will introduce her to you: She will be your favorite Auntie.

Not only is there a strong possibility that you two will share a birthday, she is one of the kindest souls there is in the world. How do I know? I used to tease her all the time and she still returns my phone calls!

Now, I have written other blogs about Auntie Shanna at different times. Most of these have made her cry and so, as much fun as that is, I have chosen to take a different route. As a way of introducing you to this wonderful Aunt of yours, I am going to list five things that I should have gotten to let her know I was thinking of her on her birthday.

Why should I have gotten her these things? Because these are the things she really deserves for being such a great person.

5) An autograph from Corb Lund. He and I were recently at a birthday party for a common friend. Shanna is nuts about this guy, but I just thought it was tacky to ask for an autograph at the party. She deserves one, though, because often, in the face of famous people, she is unable to ask for autographs herself. Instead, I resorted to teasing Shanna by text message (Hey, Shan! Corb and I just cleaned up some wine that got spilled. Hope you are having fun. Bye!)

4) A new tummy. Auntie Shanna lives with a disorder called Crohn's. It's a disorder that causes some of her insides to feel awful from time to time. Happily, she has it as controlled as possible and so she gets to do everything she wants. She goes beyond just that, though, by raising thousands of dollars each year for the Heel-and-Wheel-A-Thon for Crohn's and Colitis. She deserves a new tummy because, even though she hurts from time to time, she is always still doing things to help out people who have a harder time of it than she has.

8) Some new teeth. When I was a little kid, I had a toothache. In my suffering, I wished my tooth pain on various other creatures like the family pet and, yes...my sister. She now sometimes has to get expensive dental work done. While I am a big jerk for having wished this, it is clear now that this has caused some suffering that she definitely did not deserve. Shanna deserves new teeth and it's all my fault.

3) A chess set with actual instructions. Another awful thing I did when I was a kid was to teach Shanna chess incorrectly. I did this by showing her inconsistent rules so I could win all the time. Luckily, her attention span was too short to have this matter too much, but she deserves to be able to play this game free from my influence. Maybe you can teach her?

2) An actual letter from the actual post office. When I was a kid, there was this place you could go and, for a very small amount of money, you could drop off letters (written on paper) and the nice people there would take the letter anywhere you wanted. Today, we often refer to this service as "snail mail" because it moves so slowly. I avoid it as much as possible. My sister, however, LOVES this form of communication and jumps for joy when she gets an actual letter in the mail. She deserves this joy jump because she actually takes the time to mail things to people (even me).

1) A job. Auntie Shanna is great at everything she does. One of the things she really likes to do is organize things. Since she likes doing that so much, she went to school to learn how to organize things in libraries. A library used to be a place where you could borrow bound collections of paper called books to read. Now, it's mostly where people check facebook and...well...that's it. Anyway, Auntie Shanna really loves library work and wants to work in one. She deserves a job in one because she is pleasant and would help people discover all sorts of cool things they didn't even know were there! If she worked at my library, I would check facebook only, like, four times per visit.

At the end of the day, with the exception of the Corb Lund autograph, these are things that I would get for your Auntie Shanna because she really deserves them. The cool thing, though, is that she is getting them all by herself. She is a person I admire for her ability to move through tough stuff and keep smiling. Someday I hope to be as enlightened as she is.

Until then, maybe you will teach me a little. Why you? Because I can already feel that I'll admire you in just the same way.

Love,

Dad

Super Baby

This is why I already love you. You know today is a big day for me and this is what you send me:

I love you.

Dad.

A word on my adorable appearance.

Your mom wants to show off how adorable I am. It would appear that you and I have successfully tricked her into thinking I am adorable. I will give you a high-five as soon as your hands are free! Now it's on to the next phase of the plan: Parenting.

This is going to be harder. It's hard to be "adorable" while parenting. Sure, it's easy at first: All I will be expected to do is change a poopy diaper and make funny faces from time to time and I will be golden. In fact, if I take you for a walk and do things to make you giggle, I will even be rocketed to "Great Daddy" status.

In a few years, though, that won't cut it. We can't expect for me to keep up my adorable appearances just by playing with you and making funny faces. We are going to have to work together on this one. I will have to make sure that I am taking you to various kinds of practice and helping with various kinds of homework. It would really help me out if you would be sure to teach me about soccer or basic math so I could look like I was doing a good job at these things...you know...for appearances. I know that you will be much better at these things than I am, so this won't be hard.

What we have to keep in mind is that this is a marathon rather than a sprint. It will be staying power that is going to really sell the adorable title. Later, you could pick one or two awful-but-benign boyfriends that I can chase away from the house in a show of adorable, middle-aged strength. It wouldn't hurt if you wanted to pretend to make some unpopular career choices so I can demonstrate my adorable capacity for understanding and wise guidance (like Obi-Wan Kenobi without a lightsaber). I will have trained you in the arts of Aikido and career-management by this time, so I know you won't be in any real danger, but your cooperation here would be really handy.

What's that? Why am I trying to keep the wool over your mother's eyes? You see...you are already so naturally capable and knowing that I wouldn't change a thing. I will be there to keep you from serious bumps and bruises along the way, but you already know everything you need to be a beautiful human being. I just have to make sure your Mom doesn't catch onto the fact that I'm not actually doing anything in the meantime or else she will make me wash the cutlery more often. As long as she thinks I have something to do with how wonderful you are, then I am in the "adorable" clear.

Alright. Let's do this. Synchronize your...Circadian rhythm...and I'll be there in a few weeks to catch you.

Love,

Dad.

Lost in Translation

This morning, your Mom wrote a beautiful blog entry. It was a lovely expression of love in the moment. Here is an excerpt:

As I scoot back my big pregnant bum to be welcomed by daddy’s warm sleepy arm wrapping around me for our daily morning cuddles (loveliest and most cherished part of my day every day) and baby is hiccuping in my tummy, the little morning giggles bubble up inside and then bubble over. I just can’t believe how incredibly lucky I am.

I read this and was moved. Since the blog is bilingual, I decided to use my brower's Translate feature to see if the people in the Netherlands were getting the same message. This is what I found:

While my fat pregnant ass to slide back and be welcomed by a sleepy arm around me daddy who is beaten for our daily morning hugs (my favorite time of day, every day) and to the baby hiccups in my belly, deochtendgiechels bubble up from inside and then bubble them over. I can my luck.

And THIS is why we are definitely making sure you are bilingual. Can you IMAGINE the fun you can have with this?

Love you!

Dad.

"Dry" Run

Alright. Let's be honest. For the first several years of your life, you are going to be a poof-factory. You will also be wholly incapable of cleaning yourself, so it will fall to one of us* to clean you up.

Just to demonstrate how committed I am to your comfort, I have been practicing changing diapers. I have pictures in case you don't believe me. By the time you enjoy these, I am likely to be suntanned and all buff as I will be retired in Maui, but at this time I'm a bit fleshier and more hirsute.

Here are the materials:

1) Beanie-Baby baby substitute.
2) XSmall diaper from your distant "Auntie" Karen's New and Green Baby Company.

And that's how it's done. See? You are in good hands!


* Mostly your mother.

T-Minus One Month...

Well...the day is almost upon us. It has been a few weeks since I left you a message, so I will try to make it a good one. You are almost here, so I want you to know a bit about what you are putting your mother through right now. She can use it for guilt leverage when you want to go to that party in high school.

First of all: you are BIG. Shanna and I were fairly large babies. I am told that your Uncle Joep had an abnormally large head and had to be encouraged from Nana's womb with suction cups. Size matters in our family and it would appear, at this point, that you are no exception to this rule. What's more is that your mother is intending to bring you forth without a single drop of pain-killing medicine. However, after watching the baby-birthing video I saw this week, I think I'd like to order a batch for myself.

Second: you are WIGGLY. By all signs, it appears that you will be a night-owl (like me!) Around 9-10 PM each night, you start hiccuping and wiggling like mad. Either you are in dire need of a sobering coffee or you are going to be a wild one. If this is any indication of what you will be like on the outside, I solemnly swear to wake you up at 6 o'clock every Saturday morning of your teenage years.

Third: You cheer for CANADA. During the Olympics, while your mother and I were glued to the television, it was clear that you have a preference for the home team. When they sang O Canada you wiggled more; when Sidney scored the winning goal you were nearly born on the spot (though, to be fair, that might have been due to the commotion and carrying-on in the basement). You delighted in the pairs figure skating and, I think, might have had a crush on John Montgomery's rapier wit (stay away...he's a sledder AND an auctioneer!) Don't worry, since your birth year was Canada's coming-out party to the world, we will have lots of 2010 inukshuk stuff for you to play with and wear for years to come.

Fourth: I'm READY. Everyone is asking me if I'm "ready." Am I ready for the big change? The new arrival? The bundle of joy. Well I'll tell you and everyone...I'M READY. No, I haven't read as many books as your Mom. No, I haven't gone to any classes. No, I haven't ever changed a diaper. No, I haven't done this before. But in spite of all of that stuff, I just know. I know I am ready to meet you. I know I am ready to do things, say things, feel things, and be things that I am supposed to. I know.

And I want you to know it too. I'm ready to meet you and I can't wait.

See you soon.

Dad

Go World, Go Baby 2010!!

Your birth year is a special one for your birth country of Canada, baby. I am going to tell you more about Canada in a later entry, but this year is the second time that Canada has hosted the Olympic Winter Games. This is where the best athletes in the world all get together to see who is the best of the best. Time around because it's being held in Vancouver, where auntie Shanna lives.

It's extra fun for your Mommy and I, though, because she is from a different country than I am. We are having lots of fun cheering for our own countries for different events or, whenever possible, cheering against the United States of America because everybody likes to beat them in sports.

What's the most fun is how your Mommy and I understand all the sports differently from one another. Most of our conversations about the sports we watch really show how we are from different cultures. Below are some examples of how this works for us:

Hockey

Hockey is Canada's Sport. By the time you read this, you will likely know what I mean but Hockey is to Canada like sand is to your shorts: it gets into every part of you whether you want it to or not.

I never played hockey officially or anything, but if I wanted other kids to talk to me when I was younger, I had to learn to skate and shoot a puck. Your mother didn't have this experience growing up, so she is always surprised by how big it is here.

Me: Canada is going to measure its success at these games by whether or not we win gold in the Men's hockey.

Your Mom: That's ridiculous. I can't believe that it's even in the Olympics. It's a team sport...

Me: You're so Dutch.

Curling

This one is a stretch for your Mother. Whereas hockey can reasonably be defended as an athletic competition, curling is one of the only Olympic sports where alcohol could be considered a "performance-enhancing drug."

Your Mom: Look! (After seeing Kevin Martin's face on the screen) Old men can do it! It's not a sport!

Me: It's totally a sport! Do you know how hard it is to get those rocks down there?

Your Mom: It's just a lot of rubbing the ice to me.

Biathlon

Biathlon makes sense to me in principle, so I am surprised we disagreed on this one. It is the one winter sport that seems tied to the original spirit of the Olympics because it is actually a competition in some useful skills. Cross-country skiing and then accurately firing a weapon could have had some very practical uses in northern countries.

Your Mom: What the heck is this sport about?

Me: It's biathlon. You ski and shoot targets. It's really hard to shoot if you are huffing and puffing.

Your Mom: It looks so silly.

Me: Animals don't care what you look like when you are hunting them.

Speed Skating

This is a big one for your Mom. The Dutch didn't send a big team to these Olympics, but the ones they did send can skate.

Me: Why are you guys taking all of the speed skating medals?

Your Mom: Well...that's what we have...there are no mountains to ski on in the Netherlands. It literally means "Low Land."

Me: Are there lots of rinks to skate in?

Your Mom: No, but in the winter, if it gets cold enough, you can skate on the canals between eleven different towns.

Me: Wow. You guys are hard-core.

There are lots more sports that we watched, but these are the ones that gave us the most fun talking. You will be interested to know that you really like the I Believe song and lots of the music at the figure skating. You actually kicked when Sven Kramer (the speed skater in the picture above) won his record-setting gold medal for the Netherlands. And you really kick when Canada scores goals in hockey. You are the best parts of both of us.

Thanks for watching these games with us.

Hey Baby! Happy Valentine's Day!

I brought you a flower tonight. Your very own. It's for your first Valentine's Day. Your flower is a pink rose and it's your very first flower. I will bring you one every Valentine's Day. Only a few months until you can enjoy them!

:)

Fun in Jasper!

We took you to Jasper this week. Sorry you had such a crappy view, but I guarantee that when we go next time, it will be much more vivid for you.

Here's a picture of you and your Mommy:

That's her jumping around on partially frozen ice with you in her belly. It was pretty thick, but I guess they don't watch Ice Road Truckers in Holland*.

We had a great time. As the lift operators at Marmot Basin tend to frown on gravid snowboarders, we went on lots of walks and ate lots of good food. On the first day, we walked almost 20 kms up and back down the side of Maligne Canyon. There, we saw things like this:

and this:

Your Mommy was so excited that we walked all the way up that we realized that we were almost too pooped to walk back down again but we made it back (even though I got a bit grouchy when it seemed like we got lost.)

The coolest picture we got, though, is of this awesome train engine:

* Just on a note of sensitivity, this is NOT meant to equate your mother with a tractor-trailer that has fallen through the ice. It is merely to represent the dangers inherent in taking ice safety lightly.

We can't wait to take you when you are out and about. It's going to be one of our favorite places.

Your Mom is going to put up more pictures from our trip on our website, so take a look!

We're going to Jasper tomorrow!

Hey Baby! We are taking you to Jasper tomorrow.

I agree...you don't have the best view at this moment, but your mommy and I wanted to go before the winter was over, so I just wanted to show you what you will have to wait until next year to see.

Yes. It's bad. I know. But you laughed, didn't you?

Hehe.

Dad

This is your Grandma Daphne

Whew! So many birthdays!

Grandma Daphne is married to my Dad and they live in a gorgeous house on a lake in Saskatchewan. I haven't known her as long as I've known Grandpa Brian, but we are no less lucky that she is part of our family. In fact, if writing these posts has done anything for me, it has helped me reflect on just how lucky our little (or not so little) family is*.

We are lucky for Daphne because she is the perfect companion for my father. She is definitely the Yin to his Yang and she offers grace and emotion in a land previously inhabited by single-branch Christmas trees.

Before Daphne came into our lives, Dad's decor consisted of various trophy golf balls and a clay cow sculpture whose eyes freaked Shanna out as a kid. Now, there has been the delightful development of tasteful neutral tones and a mostly new bathroom.

We aren't, however, just lucky for Daphne's design sense. We are lucky because in her we can always find a partner-in-crime when we need to have a laugh at the expense of Dad's quirky family. We are lucky because she helped take care of Auntie Shanna when she was really sick. We are lucky because she she will make us Lefse when we are peckish.

The most important thing that Daphne brings to our lives is her care and love for my Dad. She so obviously complements his own nature that we have a hard time believing better partners were made anywhere else for each other.

With that, we wish her a very Happy Birthday!!

Love,

Dad!

* It has also helped me see that out that our family can be a bit confusing to other people...but you aren't other people so I have decided no diagram is necessary.

You said "Goodnight."

Last night, after your Mom had fallen asleep, you were up past our bedtime.

I didn't mind, though. Instead, I just put my hand on your Mom's belly and felt you kicking around in there. You were moving so much I couldn't believe it! It was like you were giving me a bunch of "high fives" over and over again. I like to think you were saying "Good Night" to me just so I could hear since I am not usually the one who gets to feel you move.

I love you and I love your goodnight high fives.

Stay strong.

Love,

Dad.

Where did you get those wonderful toys?

Your Mom just came home with a whole bunch of toys for you! They were given to us by some friends of hers and let me tell you something:

They are a lot of fun.

Now, I don't want you to think we are going to steal your toys, but we had to try them out to see if they are good enough for you. You will be happy to know that we played with them for about a half an hour and have decided that they're perfect for you... though we were hoping you could explain to us what some of them do.

I also just felt you kick harder than you have ever kicked before. You better not be having any wild parties in there. All the toys are out here!

Stay tuned for Daphne's blog tomorrow!

Love you!

Dad.

This is your Grandpa Brian

Tomorrow is Grandpa Brian's birthday. In keeping with the tradition of each member of our family getting an introductory blog entry, I am going to tell you a little bit about this fine man*.

Again, we are lucky that Brian is a part of our family. It's different, though, than how we are lucky that Grandpa Neil is part of our family (see last post). Grandpa Neil and Grandma Kat are my biological parents...they are sort of designed to love us**. Brian, on the other hand, joined our family later and isn't necessarily designed to love us the way my blood relatives are.

We are lucky because he chose to love us.

Now some might say that Brian is a loving man and so his choosing to love isn't that big a deal. He openly finds that some commercials and football games move him to tears***. I say, though, that caring and loving are two different things.

A man might care about his new wife's grown children the same way I might care about your Mother's pet bird: I don't really LIKE him, but it came with the deal, so I might as well get used to it being around!

What's cool about Brian is that he doesn't just "put up" with Shanna and I; we are part of his family! When I drink all of his scotch, he loves to do it with me^. When Auntie Shanna married Uncle Christopher, he was the one who cried^^ while reading the letter from your Great-Grandmother. When my buddies from home call me "gay", he is the one who tells them that I am ..."less gay" than they claim.

When you realize that Brian has chosen to be part of this scotch-mooching, tear-inducing, and questionably-oriented family, you realize that...he should have been more careful because he's STUCK NOW!

We aren't letting him go.

Love,

Dad.



*I know, right? Your Mommy, Grandpa Neil, now Grandpa Brian and next week Grandma Daphne! So many birthdays in a row! Well, one thing you will learn about me quickly is that I am conceited enough to think my very words are good enough to be considered birthday presents! It's also cheaper than buying gifts so we can go VISIT all these cool people!

** The science on this is fuzzy. I am basing this on my experience with really testing my parents' patience and them NOT killing me.

*** Though, in fairness, I think we can all agree that the 2009 Grey Cup is enough to move ANY Saskatchewanian to tears. F*@king "too many men on the f*@king field." F*@k!

^ I'll bring a bottle when I visit. Seriously.

^^ Yeah. He cries a lot. It's cool, though...he drinks scotch.

This is your Grandpa Neil

This is your Grandpa Neil. He is a good Dad and I am lucky that he is mine.

To understand why I am so lucky, let me tell you some things about Dads in general. Most people don't tell their kids this because it's hard to understand without other information, but the bottom line is that Dads aren't like Moms. Moms actually have the babies (ask your Mom how) so they get pretty attached to them. Dads, on the other hand, aren't as physically attached to the babies so some Dads of some babies don't stick around for all the hard parts of having babies (RE: Pooping oneself, crying, etc). I know lots of people whose Dads avoided all that hard stuff.

But not my Dad.

I'm lucky because, to be totally honest, it was a hard job to be my Dad* and my Dad always was my Dad anyway. How was it hard? Well, again honestly, I wasn't always that nice to my Dad. I know it sounds silly...who wouldn't be nice to his Dad? Well I wasn't always that easy to like as a kid (Or teenager. Or young adult. Mostly teenager.) and he just went on loving me anyway.

There were the normal acts of disobedience. I would fight over my bedtime, wouldn't eat my peas, and wouldn't stop bugging your Auntie Shanna. I was also terrified that my parents would *gasp* TALK to me in public and obviously shunned them at every opportunity.

Beyond that, though, was a deeper level of difficulty. I never wanted to play catch, learn to skate, or help fix things when my Dad asked me to**. More than not being able to relate, it was like I didn't want to even try. Later, when my Dad and Mom lived separately, I would make a big deal of even going to visit...like I had something better to be doing (I didn't). Even when I finally lived with Dad, I was grouchy with him in the mornings*** and spent most of my time with my girlfriend.

How could any person, Dad or not, be cool with all of that? Sometimes he wasn't. Sometimes he had fun with egging me on. Sometimes he wanted to kill me. Sometimes, I can't believe he didn't!

Sometimes.

But here's why I'm lucky. He always asked me to play catch. He always asked me to go skating. He always told me corny jokes for a laugh. He always asked how I was doing in school. He always helped when I needed something. He always volunteered for school things. He always said good morning. He was always there...even when I wasn't. He still is.

Always.

Love,

Your Dad.

* It was hard to be my Mom, too...you can ask Grandma Kat about the Vaseline. Whoa.

** To this day, I'm shitty at baseball, hockey, and fixing things. Go figure.

*** I'm still no better in the mornings. Some things never change. Don't talk to me until after I have a shower, please.