MetroDad

Patria Potestas (Daddy Power!)

When I first started this blog, I never really believed that anyone would be interested in hearing a guy blather on about fatherhood.

After all, let's face it. We still live in a world where men are not really encouraged to discuss their inner feelings. Most of us just don't want to hear about it.

If society has taught us anything, it's that there's a fine line between being a strong, confident man who is in touch with his feelings and being a giant wuss who cries at every father-daughter dance, likes to bake banana bread, and loves Jane Campion movies. Iron Man meet Iron John.

So yeah, really, who the fuck would want to listen to some random NYC Asian-American dude talk about being a dad?

But four years, ten pounds, and two colonoscopies later here I am. Still standing.

In fact, this is my 337th post. It's hard to believe. 337 times I've released my mental diarrhea out into the public arena. Who knew I even had that much to say?

Since its inception, this blog has been my own personal soapbox. It not only serves as a place for me to transcribe my personal journey into fatherhood but also lets me vent about the truly important issues of the day that seriously affect all of us.

Like sitting at the pediatrician's office yesterday, I jotted down an observation. Look, I wrote it on this napkin. It says: DO SOMETHING FUNNY ABOUT BABY DROOL. You see, that's the joy in writing this blog. Taking on the big guys.

Anyway, four years ago when I started this site, there weren't really any dad bloggers around. In fact, as far as I knew, it was just me, Greg, LOD and a small handful of others.

Then, along came Dutch, Danny, and Matthew. Pretty soon, more and more dads started entering the blogosphere. It's almost as if they started springing up in waves. I loved it. I've always enjoyed reading new dad blogs and wanted to give all of them as much attention as I possibly could. In fact, whenever I had free time, I'd do various write-ups introducing all the new dad blogs as they came online.

As I've said many times before, mommy blogs are like the giant 800-lb gorilla of the parenting blogosphere. They are an amazing revolutionary force of sheer will, spirit, and determination. They're fantastic and I love all of them. (Don't forget I was always on your side, ladies, 'cause I don't want to get hurt in the coming revolution. And by the way, don't you all look sexy today! Did you lose some weight? Is that a new haircut?)

What the hell was I talking about again? Ah yes, mommy blogs as 800-lb gorillas. Well, if that's the case,  then daddy blogs are like the tiny gnat on the gorilla’s ass. Although our numbers are growing larger by the day, in all honesty, most people don’t even know we exist.

That's why I was so surprised to learn that Guy Kawasaki's amazing new site aggregator, ALLTOP, now has a channel featuring just Dads!

Alltop is an amazing, new kind of site. If you are interested in celeb gossip or politics or gaming or fashion or geeky stuff, the top posts in a wide variety of different genres are covered all in one place, without you having to load anything into a feed reader. It's absolutely brilliant.

The fact that there are now enough dad bloggers out there to justify their own channel on Alltop is amazing to me and warms the cockles of my soul. At last count, Alltop listed 81 different daddy blogs! How cool is that? I can't wait to see more and more added to the list.

Thanks to Guy and AllTop for recognizing the growing popularity of Dad bloggers. Now, go check them out here.

And if any of you know some other dad bloggers out there who either aren't on the list or I've never mentioned before, leave their URLs in the comments below.

Speaking of fathers...Al Copeland (the mack daddy of fried chicken and legendary founder of the Popeyes restaurant chain) passed away this week. I was so upset that I poured out some cajun gravy and dirty rice for my homie last night. Rest in peace, Al. Thanks for making the world a better place than it was before you entered it.

Korean DJ Wunderkinds

Back in the day, NYC was the birthplace of mixing and scratching.

Growing up as a young kid in the early 80's, my friends and I were always on the lookout for new mixed tapes from legendary DJs like Kool Herc, Grandmaster Flash, Grand Wizard Theodore and Afrika Bambaataa. The tapes were always sold illegally on random street corners all over the city. And while other kids from the suburbs were trading baseball cards, we would spend our free time trading mixed tapes.

Back then, I briefly entertained the idea of becoming a professional DJ. My buddy had a turntable and mixing board set-up in his apartment and the two of us would spend hours mixing and scratching until the break of dawn.

At the same time, MetroBro ended up developing a love for freestyle rap. He was fucking fearless. He'd go out on the streets and trade battle raps with anyone. He was like the illegitimate love child of Yeats and Eminem.

But let's face it. Two Korean-American prep school kids in blazers weren't going to have much of an impact on the future of urban street music.

That's why it warms the cockles of my aging turntablist’s heart to see these two young Korean kids burning up the decks. Big props to the next generation. Word on the street is that the little girl is seven years old and the boy is five!

As I like to kid all my white and black friends when we're talking shit on the hoops court and I'm dropping threes on them, "Koreans take what you make...and we make it better! Boo yah!"

By the way, while doing a random surf on youtube, I came across THIS. How is it possible that this movie never won the Academy Award for Best Picture?  Is anyone else out there old enough to remember this classic scene or am I dating myself again?

Fuck, I'm old!

A Dying Professor's Last Lecture On Life

Beloved Carnegie Mellon professor Randy Pausch recently discovered that he has incurable pancreatic cancer and has only a few short months to live.  This week, he addressed his students in a final farewell lecture, which he entitled "How To Live Your Dreams." 

The Wall Street Journal called it "the lecture of a lifetime" and it's undoubtedly one of the more inspiring and moving lectures I've ever heard in my life. I can't stop watching it and, every time I do, I find myself with tears in my eyes. Even with death at his door, Randy Pausch remains one of the most life-affirming people I've ever met. 

At the end of the lecture, he reveals that the life lessons he was discussing weren't for the audience - but rather for his three children. As his oldest son's just five, he's focusing on making videos during his remaining days so that his younger kids will have something to remember their father.

"I find that I am completely positive. The only times I cry are when I think about the kids -- and it's not so much the 'Gee, I'll miss seeing their first bicycle ride' type of stuff as it is a sense of unfulfilled duty -- that I will not be there to help raise them, and that I have left a very heavy burden for my wife."

His wife and children, he said, "mean everything to me. They give a purpose to life and a depth of joy that no job can begin to provide. I hope they will remember me as a man who loved them, and did everything he could for them."

Here's a video of excerpts from the lecture.

Read the story here. Visit his website here.

My deepest thoughts and prayers to Randy Pausch and his beloved family.  May his story help inspire all of you to pursue your childhood dreams and appreciate the value of the life you have. 

Life is short, my friends. Kiss your wife. Hug your kids. Tell your loved ones how much they mean to you. And always remember to seize the day.

'Cause you've gotta have faith, baby

I spend an absurd amount of time thinking about my daughter's future. 

Now don't get me wrong. I'm a fairly laid-back guy so I rarely get myself too stressed out about parenting.  However, there probably isn't a single future event/milestone that the Peanut will ever face that I'm not already thinking about: the cost of pre-school, making friends, belly-button piercings, the SATs, orthodontist bills, shitty boyfriends, college, marriage, career, global warming.

Honestly, the list goes on forever.

Now it's bad enough that I spend so much time thinking about my daughter's future but recently I've started to concern myself with something even further removed...HER AFTERLIFE!

I'm more than a little embarrassed to say that my own experiences with organized religion have been somewhat spotty at best.  I like religion and I'm interested in theology.  I'm just not a big fan of church.  I abhor organized religion's growing intolerance and I'm extremely turned off by the scandals that seem to constantly plague them. In general, I like to consider myself a spiritual man who has always chosen bits and pieces of various religions in order to suit my own personal needs. 

For example, when I was younger, I really did believe that idle hands were the Devil's workshop, so I was constantly jerking off. 

Just kidding! 

In all seriousness, despite the fact that I was baptized and confirmed in a Korean Methodist church, I've also fasted on Yom Kippur, sought guidance from Buddha, celebrated Ramadan, and dragged my hungover ass out of bed on many a Sunday morning in order to attend Mass.  It's like I couldn't decide on a religion so I picked all of them!

To their credit, my parents did try to expose me to church when I was younger.  But for them, church was more of a social event where they could meet up with fellow Koreans and eat some donuts.  Although my father donated a lot of money to the church, I'm not sure he was ever motivated by faith or charity.  I think he just wanted better seats so he could be closer to God.   

As I look back, I realize that my personal disillusionment with religion started when I was 8 years old and got kicked out of Sunday school.  The bible teacher was asking us whether we knew God's name and I kept yelling out, "HOWARD!  God's name is HOWARD!"  When the teacher asked me to elaborate, I replied, "Haven't you ever read the Lord's Prayer?  You know, the part where it says, 'Our Father who art in Heaven, Howard be they name.'  Jeez, lady!  And you call yourself a Sunday school teacher?"

In a fit of fury, she kicked me out of class.  However, I was being completely serious at the time and her misplaced rage only served to confuse the hell out of me.  In typical fashion, I just shrugged my shoulders and went down the street to grab a slice of pizza.  Man, my ass still hurts thinking about the beating I got from my dad that night!

Sadly, I never did find God in that church either (but thanks to the basketball court in the basement, I did find one hell of a great jump shot.)

My lovely aunt, on the other hand, is a devoutly born-again Christian.  After losing her teenage son to leukemia and her asshole husband to infidelity, she found great solace and comfort in religion.  And although she's given me enough rosary beads and bibles to start my own congregation, I find her faith to be a beautiful thing.  If anything, helping people cope with life's many shitstorms is the greatest benefit of organized religion.  I truly believe that church saved my aunt's life. 

Sadly, the only times I enter a church these days are when someone dies or gets married.  However, BossLady and I are seriously contemplating attending one again so that the Peanut doesn't automatically assume that our peculiar brand of Agnostic Secularism is the natural order of things.  If the Peanut chooses to eventually opt out of organized religion, we want it to be HER choice, not ours.  As parents, we feel that, at the very least, we owe it to our daughter to make sure she is exposed to religion (or religions) so that she can eventually make her own decision about the role it's going to play in her life. 

And who knows?  Maybe in trying to help the Peanut find her faith, we'll find our own as well.

It's funny being a parent, isn't it?  You spend so much time thinking about how you're affecting your child yet you rarely notice how sometimes your child affects you more.  As I've mentioned, I became disillusioned with organized religion many years ago.  Then, after 9/11 and the loss of one of my best friends, I was convinced that religion was the core root of the world's problems.  Now, a scant two years after the birth of my daughter, I'm contemplating going to church again for the first time in years.  Who would have ever guessed that? 

Certainly not this jaded New Yorker. 

But honestly speaking, there's a part of me that is curious about attending church again.  After all, I see the Lord's work all around me.  A beautiful sunrise, my wife's gorgeous face, my daughter's heart-warming smile, the infield grass at Shea Stadium, and, of course, seeing that asshole driver in the Hummer who cut me off on the Jersey Turnpike getting pulled over by state troopers for a full-body cavity search.

Hmmm...maybe God does have a sense of humor!

In all seriousness, I'd really love to hear your thoughts about religion in regard to parenting and raising kids.  Or your own religious experiences growing up and the role your parents did or didn't play.  I know religion is generally a taboo subject in the snarky world of blogging but let's talk about it nonjudgementally just this once, ok?  A truly inquiring mind wants to know. 

Life is short

Part of being a Met fan is having your heart broken. 

Every spring brings glimmers of hope and optimism.  And every autumn tends to bring sadness and disappointment. 

However, I'll never stop rooting for my beloved Mets.  I was born under the shadows of Shea Stadium in Flushing, Queens and my heart will always belong to the Mets until the day I die. 

As many fans understand, seeing one's team in the World Series may only happen once in a lifetime.  The Chicago Cubs last appeared in the Series in 1945. They last won a championship in 1908.  How many Cubbie fans have lived and died since then? 

So when the Mets made the division series and World Series tickets went on sale, I knew I had to be there.  Thankfully, my beautiful wife understood how important this was to me.  She sold an arm, a leg, one of her kidneys, and the naming rights to all of our future children in order to buy me an early birthday present...the now-worthless souvenir ticket that you see here.

Tied at 3 games apiece in a best-of-7 series, down two runs with the bases loaded and two outs...that's about as close as you can possibly come to making it to the Series.  But with a single strikeout, the Mets season ended.  As the saying goes, close only counts when it comes to horseshoes and hand grenades. 

Oh well...there's always next season.

Gloria Patria (In Praise of the Father)

For the first several months after I started this "Daddy blog," I had no readers except for my lovely and encouraging wife, the BossLady. This was fine with me. I really just wanted an anonymous place where I could keep an online diary of my impending fatherhood and chronicle the journey into parenthood. Though I tend to kid around about it a lot, I'm not entirely joking when I say that one of the main reasons I started the blog was because it really was cheaper than therapy.

I also enjoyed the idea of having a creative outlet for my writing. I don't have much use for it in my daily life but I've always been the kind of person who, instead of sending postcards on long trips overseas saying, "wish you were here," would instead send 2,000 word e-mails to my friends about getting drunk with Muslims in Pakistan or explaining how "Falcon Crest" is actually much funnier in Hindi (whereas, on the other hand, "Joey" is not funny in ANY language.) I missed having a place to release the strange machinations and observations that bounced around in my brain on a constant basis. 

In no way did I think that my blog would ever be read by more than a small handful of people.  However, soon after I started, my two blogging godfathers, Jay and Greg, started linking to my site and pushing people to come over and read various posts I had written.   

Suddenly, for the first time, I had readers (which is a weirdly strange phenomenon, kind of like picking your nose in bed and looking up to see 50 people peering through your window.)  But more important than readers, I found an amazing community of people with whom I've become friends. Some are parents. Some aren't. But connecting with so many people as a community in this online internet thingy has been, by far, the most rewarding aspect of having started this blog.

However, since MetroDad primarily deals with my ongoing experience of fatherhood, I've got a soft spot for all my fellow dads out there.  There aren't too many men writing online about fatherhood so I try to promote all of them as much as possible.  We've done this here a few times before and I'm glad to say that many of these guys have become good friends of mine. Some I've met in person. Others are friends whom I just haven't met...yet!

Anyway, the great thing about daddy bloggers is that there are always new ones that are starting every day.  Here are a few new ones that I've discovered recently. Enjoy!

Corndog & Rootbeer

There's a small possibility that Henri is my long-lost twin brother.  French-name?  Check.  Korean-American?  Check.  Unhealthy obsession with scotch?  Double check.  However, if my strange sense of humor is derived from juvenile drug use, I think Henri's weirdness comes from being dropped on his head as a baby.  He's a loving father and husband who thinks he's an Irish ninja.  I got such a kick out of reading him, I even recruited him for the Rice Daddies blog.  Go check him out.

Flailing My Arms

A self-described "dad, partner, theatre-maker, graphic designer, writer, and flagrantly flailing 20-something living in Austin, TX," Jonathan is a very cool dude whom I've enjoyed reading a lot lately.  In many ways, he reminds me a lot of myself when I was younger.  And although he sometimes struggles to find balance in his life, I continue to be impressed by the fact that he's an introspective guy who is always asking the right questions of himself.  For a kid in his 20's, he's a refreshingly mature guy and a very talented writer.  I think if Dutch and I were ever to have a baby together, he'd come out a lot like Jonathan! We like Jonathan. A lot.

Spit Up & Shut Down

Sandy is a stay-at-home screenwriter dad living in Long Beach with two kids, a dog, and a hilarious take on life. He dresses his kid up in an Elmo costume just to hang out around the house, has actually peed at a supermarket urinal with his son on his shoulders, and is teaching himself how to play cricket via a book. Best of all, he's the inventor of the bologna-melt paternity test. Clearly a man after my own heart.

L.A.Daddy

Tim is a displaced Ohioan who has been working as a marketing director and writer/director for the past 11 years.  In his spare time, he's an avant-garde raconteur, retired gigolo, and a proud papa to a two-year old girl.  I enjoy reading Tim because we're both around the same age so we can relate to one another. When he writes about Colecovision or I write about Brite-lites, we each know what the other is talking about. Not like all you young 'uns out there!

Abba-Daddy

Abba-Daddy is a fellow New Yorker who's been married for 8 years and has two wonderful daughters.  Whereas I'm more Jewish by affiliation, Abba-Daddy is a proud Israeli man with a deep love for his homeland, music, and Elmo porn.  Ok, just kidding about that last one (sort of.)  He's just starting out but I'm enjoying reading him. I think you will too.

I Hate Snaps

I feel like I've known Kaz forever. He was such a loyal and frequent commenter over at daddytypes that I think Greg finally just told him to start his own blog. What I truly love about Kaz is that he's a passionate man. As a tree-hugging environmental vegetarian, Kaz shares tips to help other parents live "green" and discusses the highs and lows of raising a loving daughter. As a meat-eating, non-recycling urbanite who drives a car that gets about 11 mpg, I still got nothing but love for Kaz. Go check him out.

Dad in Progress

There are many cool things to like about Michael. He's a great guy who spends a lot of time and energy in trying to figure out how to be a great dad. He's also an avid reader of parenting resources who always has an interesting take on the articles he references on his site. However, the coolest thing about Michael may be the fact that he is the head of North American brand communications at Lego. The dude works at Lego Land!

As always, if you know of any new dad bloggers out there, feel free to shoot me an e-mail or leave a comment. Otherwise, enjoy these newbies. I think you'll like them.

GO METS!

Mommy Dearest

Over the past six months, the Peanut has been treating me as if I were the living embodiment of Christmas, Elmo, and an all-you-can-eat ice cream buffet. 

When she woke up in the morning, she demanded that I be the one who got her out of the crib, changed her diaper, and dressed her.  When she hurt her knee at the playground, it was me that she always came running to.  When she was hungry, only I was allowed to prepare her dinner and feed her.  And every day, all she ever wanted to do was hang out with me. 

Man, is there any greater feeling than the complete and unadulterated love of a child?  I was on top of the world.

While I felt badly for the BossLady, I couldn't help but take some pleasure and satisfaction from the fact that the Peanut's universe revolved around me.  In some way, I felt that this was perfectly natural and actually SHOULD be the state of things. 

After all, I was the one who came home early every day to play with the Peanut.  I was the one who read to her before bath time.  I was the one who made all the fun bubbles in the tub.  And I was the one who cooked her meals and fed her every night.  Why shouldn't I be her favorite parent?  It made perfect sense to me.

Internet...those days are over!

Right now, the Peanut's sun, moon and stars all revolve around the BossLady.  It's mama THIS or mama THAT.  Without a doubt, mommy is the new and improved center of the Peanut's universe and she wants absolutely nothing to do with daddy any more.  All of sudden, I'm like the bubonic plague.  Now, she actually pushes me out of the way so that she can go hug and kiss the BossLady! 

The whole transition occurred so quickly, I'm not even sure what happened.  My head is still spinning from the demotion. 

The hardest part of dealing with my recent change of status is the fact that I am a seriously competitive bastard.  I don't like being second in anything.  To quote the famous faux-Nascar philosopher Rickey Bobby, "If you ain't first, you're last."

Now, I'm man enough to admit that I was filled with jealousy, confusion, envy, bitterness and bewilderment that I had suddenly been displaced as the Peanut's #1 fan.  When the fuck did they send out THAT memo?  Man, this was horrible!  I didn't like these new feelings at all and I was ready to break out ALL the tricks to remedy the situation quickly...giant piles of chocolate chip cookies, huge fountains of strawberry milk, unlimited quantities of Elmo juice.  Hell, I even started surfing the internet to try and find the nearest pony dealer. 

Thankfully, I regained my senses.  After all, if parenthood has taught me anything, it's that everything I do is for the benefit of my daughter.  So, once again, I realized that I needed to change my perspective and alter my way of thinking.  I couldn't allow my sense of competitiveness to manifest itself.  If I followed that evil path, I'd end up doing something destructive like bribing the Peanut for her affections (a path I definitely didn't want to go down.)  I also couldn't allow bruised feelings or parental snubs to alter my opinions, my emotions, or my feelings about her.  If I couldn't handle her little baby snub now, how would I deal later when she's an obnoxious teenager chucking telephones at me and yelling that I'm "the world's worst father?"  Clearly, I needed to get a better emotional perspective on things. 

Besides, it wasn't that long ago that BossLady had been in MY shoes.  And, sure, I tried to understand what my lovely wife was saying about not feeling loved by the Peanut.  It's just that, like going to watch the Knicks play, you don't really know how horrible the situation is until you see for yourself. 

Of course, I probably didn't help matters for the BossLady by constantly running around the apartment with the Peanut on my shoulders yelling, "I'm #1!  I'm #1!"

However, there was an instance last week when I had a true moment of clarity.  The Peanut, once again, snubbed me and quickly ran over to give the BossLady a giant two-handed neck hug (always the best kind.)  Then, the Peanut planted a big, wet, sloppy kiss on the BossLady's cheek.  As I witnessed the two of them sitting together, holding hands and singing, I saw a look of sheer joy on my beautiful wife's face that I'd never seen before.  It seemed as if every fiber of her being had been filled with the rapture that came from knowing that the Peanut's universe now revolved around her and that her daughter really, truly loved her!  The moment may have only lasted for a nanosecond but I immediately knew, right there and then, that not only would I never again try to compete for my daughter's affections but also that I would do anything in the world to see that look of joy on my wife's face forever. 

Hell, I would die to see that look on her face forever.   

Anyway, like my man L.L. Cool J says, I know I'll be back on top sometime again.  Besides, as they say in the fashion biz, everything old eventually comes back in style again at one point or another. 

Right? 

Hello? 

Anyone? 

Ahhh...fuck it!  Have fun, BossLady and Peanut.  If you need me, I'll be on the couch.

 

Happy Anniversary, BossLady!

Five years ago today, the lovely and beautiful BossLady and I exchanged vows to one another in a Tribeca loft.  It was one of those gorgeous summer evenings and the perfect time to celebrate our union together. 

After all these years together, I still can't believe she agreed to marry me and my smelly feet.  I don't even want to contemplate my life without her.  A life without her is no life at all. 

.

Happy Anniversary, honey.  Not only do you rock the Casbah, you make me make me make me make me hungry again!   

You're the coolest cat in town and I'll always love you forever.

In Nomine Patris (In the Name of the Father)

Daddy bloggers have always been the red-headed stepchildren of the internet. 

When the mass media covers the the "phenomenon" of blogging, they usually focus on blogs pertaining to politics, technology, celebrity gossip or media.  In the parenting realm, the coverage usually only focuses on the so-called "mommy blogs."  Very rarely do you hear anything about the XY chromosomal component of the parenting equation.

However, as my favorite daddy-blogger Greg pointed out, recent articles highlighting Father's Day have led the media to shed some light on the phenomenon of Daddy blogs.  As Greg puts it, perhaps dadblogs are the new hotness.

Here are links to some articles featuring Daddy blogs:

Hey Dude, are you there?  It's me, daddyblogger  (Austin American-Stateman)

21st-century dads turn to blogs for help (Seattle P.I.)

Rise of the Daddy Blog (NY Daily News)

I'm proud to be mentioned in the above articles.  However, as I've always said in the past, the one thing I love about Daddy blogs is the great sense of community that they engender.   I think it's a great tribute to modern day society that there are so many fathers out there taking very active roles in parenting and struggling with issues that have traditionally been pigeonholed into being the domain mainly of mothers.   And while mothers have often used blogs to document their forays into parenthood, it's nice to see more dads do the same. 

That's why I've always tried to recognize and promote other daddy blogs.  There are so few of them out there and I truly enjoy reading all of them.  Though, as individuals, we may be wildly different in our personalities and characters, there is a unique sense of bonding due to the fact we're all experiencing fatherhood in a way that's much different from previous generations.  Men traditionally haven't spent a lot of time thinking about being good fathers.  While reading all the various daddy blogs, it's nice to see that the old attitudes are changing for the better. 

Anyway, here are some of the newest daddy blogs that I've been enjoying lately...

The Bradstein Household

Coming at you from Northern Virginia, Papa Bradstein is a soon-to-be father who happens to be the real-life neighbor and real-life friend of my blogging buddy Banana (personal connections are so confusing in the 21st century, aren't they?)  He and his wife (affectionately called "Mama") are expecting their first child this summer.  Not only is Papa Bradstein a truly great guy but also it's been highly entertaining to watch him struggle with the pending arrival of his child.  It brings back fond memories of all the sleepless nights I had either staring at the ceiling or trying to build baby furniture.  Go visit Papa B and tell him to relax!

And then there was a pickle...

Pickle's Papa is an extremely thoughtful and deep-thinking man who started his blog to vent and release some of his deepest fears and frustrations about fatherhood.  He's a complicated dude with an interesting past.  However, I absolutely love the way his mind works.  He often says the things that I dare not say aloud.  In many ways, he might be my dark-sided twin.  Or maybe I'm his dark-sided twin.  Either way, Pickle's Papa is a great guy, an interesting read, and a cool dude with a profound love for his little daughter. 

Zygote Daddy

ZD is a grad student studying ecology.  A San Francisco native, he now finds himself in the middle of Iowa, awaiting the birth of his first child.  Aside from the fact that he shares my love of grammar and is one of the few other people I know who reads "Elements of Style" for fun, I dig reading Zygote Daddy because he carries a healthy dose of skepticism with him at all times, likes to make fun of Iowa and tosses around phrases like "embroyonic gustatory autocracy" in his posts (like I'm supposed to understand what he's talking about.)  In all honesty, he seems to be a genuinely nice guy with a big bleeding heart.  He writes sincerely about becoming a father and I have no doubt he'll be a great one.

The Hygiene Chronicles

Steve is not a new blogger.  He is, however, a very cool dad who recently started contributing to the blogfathers and I highlight him here because it's refreshing to read the chronicles of a gay dad who shares his life with his partner of 14 years and his 3 1/2 year old son.  He's a hilarious guy who doesn't know much about football or sports.  However, we do share a love of American Idol, Aveda bath soaps, and raising a kid.  I don't know whether that says more about him or me!  But go check out his blog and enjoy the ramblings of a cool dad. 

Denver Dad

How can you not like a guy whose profile describes himself as "a dad and and Crusader for Social Justice?"  Denver Dad is another regular guy whose blog chronicles his journey into fatherhood.  He's honest, self-deprecating and sincere.  One of his favorite posts of mine discussed how he can no longer spend money without thinking in terms of how many cases of diapers he could buy with the same amount of money (i.e. a tank of gas equals 1 box of diapers, a used car equals 285 boxes.) 

VampDaddy

As far as I can tell, VampDaddy isn't a vampire.  However, he is a self-described weird guy with a 16-month old son.  Not only does he share my love of alternative 80's music but he also struggles with all the decisions that modern parenthood requires.  But instead of stressing about it, he always takes a very thoughtful and light-hearted approach to parenting. 

p-man

Lastly, I'm including a man who does not have his own blog but should.  P-man is an occasional contributor to his wife's site, mother-woman.  Many of you know Mo-Wo as a much-beloved figure in the parenting blogosphere.  She's nice, thoughtful, polite, and generous.  p-man?  Not so much!  All kidding aside, he's my favorite curmudgeon.  At times, he's pissed off me, Dutch and God-knows-who-else in the parenting blogosphere.  But I truly do love reading the guy.  He's ridiculously bright, well-read and an excellent writer.  Plus, he's got a healthy dose of sarcasm and cynicism that are rarely found among Canadians.  Fortunately, his bark is worse that his bite.  I'm always excoricating him to start his own blog. Maybe you can too!

That's all folks!  Check out these relatively new daddy bloggers and enjoy.  And if there are any other new daddy bloggers out there that I missed, post a comment introducing yourself or shoot me an e-mail.

And always remember...men who change diapers change the world. 

To Dad, and Fathers Everywhere...

Those of you who follow sports may know that Tiger Woods' father passed away from cancer four weeks ago.  Anyone who ever saw Tiger with his father knows that Earl was not one of those parents who pushed his son to play golf in order to fulfill his own ambitions.  He was just, quite simply, Tiger's mentor, best friend, and #1 fan.  The two of them were often inseparable and, every time Tiger won a tournament, he always went straight to Earl and gave him a big hug.  Theirs was a truly special relationship. 

Sadly, this Nike commercial was compiled a few weeks before Earl Woods' death and was meant to be Tiger's Father's Day tribute to "make sure all dads everywhere are recognized and appreciated."  It's so sentimentally touching that every time I watch it, tears come to my eyes.   

I hope all of you watch it and remember what Father's Day is really about.

 

You can also see the video here. The song is The Zombies' "This Will Be Our Year."

From all of us to all of you...Happy Father's Day.