myopic pilgrim

In short, there isn’t one, at least none that I sensed even though I was there for the birth of my first son. Despite being told it would be a mystical experience, I didn’t receive any spiritual revelations. Full disclosure: I didn’t cut the umbilical cord. Perhaps that’s where the magic is. Read the rest of this entry »

What I Expected at My First Son’s Birth

When my wife was pregnant with our first son, I would talk to fathers about what to expect, mainly during labor and delivery. Many of them, like my Uncle Brian, described seeing your child born as a mind-blowing experience. I remember him saying “dude” a lot.

Fathers told me I’d see this miracle taking place and would receive this clarity of thought. My place in the universe will be solidified when I’m asked to cut the umbilical cord—and I must cut the umbilical cord! It will all be a mystical experience and I’d better pay attention. As the due date approached (and passed), I prepared myself. I expected fireworks and angelic choirs. I was ready to receive some sort of epiphany about, dude, my life and the world. Read the rest of this entry »

Last Sunday after Sunday worship at church my wife tells me she’s going into the men’s restroom to get Mateo. She didn’t see him right away. She finds him in the stall, scooping water out of the toilet into his mouth. Or maybe just to wash his mouth.

We had lunch at Lamppost Pizza (which is really good, by the way) with a two other young families. Mateo was being willful. He didn’t want to eat. He didn’t want to sit down. I spent most of lunch standing outside with him. We figured he was tired because on Sundays he doesn’t get a morning nap.

When we’re saying good-bye to everyone in the parking lot, he vomits on me. Twice. Read the rest of this entry »