Big brotherly advice on fatherhood

So you’re a dad, little brother! Now what? Oh, the fun has just started. Snicker, snicker, snicker. First bit of advice from someone who’s been a father for almost eight years: When you hear someone say, “Oh, you’re a new father. The fun has just started … Snicker, snicker, snicker …,” resist the urge to run them over with your car. Because you will hear this a million times. They will tell you how you have no idea what awaits you. Because they do know what awaits you, and you don’t. Parenthood isn’t easy. Especially those first weeks and months. It’s like going to Army boot camp, only there you actually get sleep and pretty much everyone is potty trained. Not so with this.

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Dreams of new furniture in a dog-free world

I almost asked the sales clerk behind the counter. Shame — and the thought of further public embarrassment — kept me from it. I was flipping through a catalog in the high-end furniture store. Looking through pictures of rugs that weren’t on the floor. This one? No, too light. That one? Nice, but the pattern is too static. It would never hide anything. I was about to drop some cash on a rug for the living room. My wife has been wanting one for a while. A replacement for the one we threw away. Why did we throw it away? Ha! Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? Like the one I wanted to ask the retail clerk as I thumbed through the catalog gasping at prices and agonizing over what would go with the sofa and the wall color and my general mood and the futility of it all.

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The ‘imprecision’ of waiting on a baby

“Could still be a week, a minute, three days …” said the text from my brother. “The imprecision of this process is a hoot.” Amen! Children. Especially the non-born kind. They have no respect for time. Due dates. Promptness. That people might have lives and need to get on with them. Masters of imprecise processes. Boy, if that doesn’t sum it up! My brother and sister-in-law are due pretty soon. Any day. It’s their first child, and as we all know, it can be an agonizing wait when you’re down to the final days. Uncomfortable. Anxious. Excited. Nervous. Wondering why in the world you thought this was a good idea. How you are ever going to use all the diapers stacked up in the baby’s room. What horrors will await you as you change those diapers! The more you wait, the worse it gets. I mean, it’s great practice, right? A taste of the patience you’ll need throughout parenthood: Waiting for teeth to get brushed. Waiting for shoes to be put on. Waiting for them to remember you told them 18 times to brush their teeth and put their shoes on. It’s a wonder we get anywhere or do anything.

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Could it be, could it really be fall?

“Defibrillator!” I yelled. “Someone run inside and get a defibrillator! It’s just too beautiful out here.” My family scrambled, searching for something that would help. My wife finally rushed outside with a turkey baster and an electric mixer. “We don’t have a defibrillator,” she cried. “How about a 9-volt battery?” In a fit of panic, she wrapped her arms around my waist and gave me the Heimlich. It was just enough to snap me back to my senses. To help me survive the gorgeous fall morning that had been a shock to my unprepared Florida system. I had walked outside that early morning to get the newspaper. Immediately I knew something was wrong. “What’s happening?!?” I asked myself. “No sweat dripping off my forehead. No 400 percent humidity. Toes tingling! Goose bumps up and down my arms! Drunken smile across my face!

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