Happy Father's Day!

While this is technically my second Father's Day (the Bear was just about a month old last year), this really feels like my first 'official' one. This time last year, fatherhood was a very new thing. Specifically, the first month of being a dad now seems like a total blur, clouded with an overwhelming sense of exhaustion, stress, and general confusion. I was absolutely thrilled about being a dad and certainly felt blessed and lucky, but confusion might've been the most prevalent emotion in our house last year, at least on my end. What do I do when I'm with the baby alone and I have to go to the bathroom? How do I know when she's hungry? Will I ever be able to shower again? Yet, for every moment of stress and confusion, there were many more moments when it was just me and my little one. Moments like this one:

Admittedly, as I'm sure is the case with most new dads and parents, Google helped me a lot in my most intense moments of confusion and answered myriad questions about raising a child I was too afraid ashamed to ask another real-life human. Seriously, if you were to check my Google search history from this time last year, you'd think I was the most ignorant dad (or person) ever. But, judging from the autofill results that came up when I began one search 'How to tell if your baby,' I'm not the only dad out there that gets seriously confused. One dad actually wondered how to tell if his baby had gas. Interesting. I don't have much room to talk, though, since I once Googled how to change a diaper. While I can laugh about it now (and change a diaper without the internet's help, thankyouverymuch), there was something slightly comforting that so many other people out there were looking for the same help I was. A lot of other people in fact. For example, there's 51,800 results on YouTube when you search how to change a diaper.  For real. Google provides over 300,000 results when you want to know if your baby has colic. It was nice to know I had a whole crew with me on the S.S. Dad.

Like I said, the first month with the Bear was kind of a blur.  Aside from the sleep deprivation and general chaos that comes with being responsible for a tiny, helpless human's life, what it meant to be a dad hadn't really sunk in yet. Maybe I was so preoccupied and overwhelmed with balancing all my new dad responsibilities with all my other responsibilities that I never took the time to really acknowledge all the changes going on around me. Or maybe I was just too busy doing load after load of tiny laundry. Regardless, the true enormity of being a dad hadn't hit me.

But, a year later, it has.  And the weight of being a dad has hit me hard.

Looking back on my first month of fatherhood, I realize now how silly it was to seek strangers' advice on how to hold a bottle or change a onesie. However, I also realize that my obsessive Google searches were rooted in one very strong, very overwhelming desire: I didn't want to mess anything up.  I've done very few things absolutely right in my life and messed many more things up. I've tried to be the best son, brother, uncle, and husband I can be. I also know that despite how hard I try to be 'good' in those roles, I approach all of them with the expectation that, at some point, I'll most likely mess something up. Honestly, that's probably not the best approach to relationships. Maybe it's the underlying sense of unconditional love in all those relationships that lulls me into complacency. I'm not sure.

But what about my new role as dad? Well, there is one very clear truth that's emerged since I became a dad: being a dad is the one thing I want to be perfect at. And I don't want to be just a good dad; I want to be the best dad for my daughter.  I want to be someone she relies on, someone she looks to for help, someone who'll make her laugh, someone she trusts, someone she seeks for guidance, someone who understands her, someone she hugs when she's sad, and someone who will hold her hand as she walks down whatever path her life takes her. Realistically, I know I'll mess up along the way.  In fact, I've already messed some things up, like letting her spend a good portion of one morning last week wearing a diaper backwards. Or the time we went to the park and she ate part of a woodchip.  Eh, you live, you learn...and maybe you eat a woodchip or two. But if those are the worst things I let happen to her, I feel like I'll be OK.

A second truth has also emerged: I won't be able to protect my daughter forever.  Right now, I'm her sole source of financial and emotional support and pretty much the one she relies on to, you know, stay alive.  I feed her, clothe her, and put a roof above her head.  That won't always be the case.  At some point, she's going to go out on her own. She'll seek her friends' advice rather than mine. She'll ask to be dropped off a block from her destination in fear of being seen with me. She'll probably even tell me she hates me (but won't really mean it, of course). She'll go to college, perhaps even far away. Maybe she'll get married and start a family of her own. The truth is, at some point, she won't need my help anymore. Even though that thought is sort of sad, there's still something inherently hopeful about it. Hopefully, I've done a good enough job that she'll be OK when she's on her own. And that she'll call me everyone once in a while. Until that day comes, however, I'm going to be the best dad I can and savor every single second I have with her.

I can't tell other dads how to raise their kids, but I can offer this small piece of dad advice. Laugh a lot. Smile every day. Play with your kids' toys. Read them stories. Make up stories to tell them. Eat ice cream. Change diapers. Draw a family portrait with sidewalk chalk. Watch Sesame Street. Listen. Swim. Eat animal-shaped chicken nuggets. Eat veggies. Tuck them in at night. Ask questions. Take a moment for yourself. Take the rest of the moments for them. Take them on adventures. Get dirty. Be there for them always. And, even through the most exhausting and difficult times, take a step back every once in a while to understand that we dads are doing something truly remarkable. That's pretty cool.

I like to think being a dad is sort of like baseball: sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, and sometimes it rains. I believe that, even though there will certainly be bumps along the way, as long as I try every day to be the best dad I can be, the rest will take of itself.

To all the dads out there, in whatever form they may come...enjoy your day! I'll be on the swings.