I first posted this two years ago today, in honor of my oldest son’s birthday – I remain immensley proud of him – he’s taught me so much over the years, and I treasure the time we get to spend together. Happy birthday, Jon, with all my love and respect.
On September 5th, 1985, at about 8:30 P.M., I became a father. Our first child, our son Jon, was born.
Talk about “Labor Day” – my wife was in labor in the hospital for more than 36 hours before Jon was finally born. Even then, the doctor had to use forceps, a device that resembled a giant salad tong, to get him out. But the moment when he finally said “It’s a boy” made it all worth the wait.
I thought I was well prepared and ready to be a father. I had everything figured out – what rules I’d enforce, what beliefs and principles I’d instill, how fair and balanced I’d be. Little did I know that you can never be adequately prepared, because, once born, it turns out that this thing you’ve been obsessing over and reading and theorizing about is alive, and as unpredictable as any…
View original post 478 more words