Like Any Good Story It Starts with "Little Did He Know"

On the eve of my 30th birthday I thought I had found perfection in the combination at a Seattle bar named Shorty’s with a frosty pint, A Tribe Called Quest playlist and thousands of points on a vintage Evel Knievel pinball machine. Pretty awesome indeed. Little did I know that just a few days later in addition to a new decade of my life I’d be embarking on something I was woefully unprepared for, fatherhood.  

My wife and I both were excited and certainly had sounded that familiar refrain on having children of “oh yes someday.” Well it was someday and I also soon learned I’d face what I thought was my biggest fear. I was going to have a daughter. To be clear my fear was based on unfamiliarity. I grew up in a house with 3 older brothers so my frame of reference for how to be raised bordered on a mix of Lord of the Flies meets Wrestlemania. That and my mother rooted for the shark in Jaws so as you might guess I never really learned about the softer side of life. You know things like “feelings” or “a good cry”. 

As the months towards her arrival neared, I approached my new role the only way I knew how. I worked like a dervish to finish renovating our house (never watch too many HGTV shows before you buy a house, it warps your perception on fixer upper) and took my precious home office with authentic 1966 Batman poster, thoughtfully acquired vintage lunch boxes (I mean come on. Welcome Back Kotter lunch box, classic) and dark blue walls and transformed it to pink walls with stenciled butterflies.  

I also like any most soon-to-be dads searched for wisdom of those who had been down my path. I’d talk to anyone and sometimes got great advice and more often smiled politely and crossed them off my mental “ask them things list”. What I found was for soon to be Moms there is rightfully a bevy of information. And for new dads plenty of good clinical info or people who considered it some sort of moral crusade (which is cool if you do, no judgment here), but I didn’t find anything that I felt talked to someone like me. Someone who prides himself on my ironic t-shirts, vintage sports jerseys, tries to keep up with music just to avoid those cringe inducing comments like “well they don’t have good songs like Eye of the Tiger anymore” and basically though far past it, clings desperately to the balcony edge of trying to be cool. 

Fast forward to today and I’m the proud dad of an amazing two-year old girl who has completely transformed my world. From the time she made her appearance, I have tried to slow down and savor each step along the way and it’s brought me a level of happiness I never thought possible. It’s also made me keenly aware of how much of what’s out there for new Dads is a little lacking. From the moment I went to a hardware store as I finished her room and there was only two light switch covers for girls while about twenty for boys (and felt the urge to grab a manager to point it out) I knew I had a new view of the world. And maybe some other Dads might find it helpful. So this brings us to this blog. 

Living in Weymouth, I’ve been amazed at how many great resources we have on the South Shore that dads just don’t know about or never thought to try. I’ve also somehow managed to have my daughter join me on many of the things I enjoy from camping to watching Batman and found that princesses, tea parties and making my daughter smile are new things I never get enough of. So I thought I’d share my thoughts, any lessons I learn and fun adventures along the way. If nothing else maybe this will make some people laugh and new dads know that there a million ways to do it and here is one. 

One thing almost every father of a girl told me before I had one was just wait she’ll have you wrapped around her finger. I’d muster my faux bravado about how that wouldn’t happen to me. Well as you can guess by the blog’s name I quickly lost that battle and couldn’t be happier. My precious lunch boxes and Batman poster now sit in her toy room and each time she excitedly points to them I know that all along they really were hers and so was I.  I just didn’t know I had spent my first 30 years getting ready.