Some people were born to be engineers, others artists, and others chefs. I, however, have always known that I was meant to be a Dad.
There was an indescribable moment when my wife and I were seeing our child through an ultrasound for the first time and heard the words, “It’s a boy,” that my world changed forever.
My son is the smartest boy I know. He is my light, my reason to be better, and my heart. He is MAGIC and defies all definition of ordinary.
He has taught me to live more selflessly, to take life less seriously, to build a future that is for him and past myself, and to be the man I want him to learn to be.
Being a father is amazing. Having my son in my life is like reliving the childhood I struggle to remember. He is a series of firsts and joy that make everything I do worth doing.
We had an awesome opportunity to spend a week away from home, away from work, and away from routine. There is something wildly magical about abandoning routine: the moments you discover that otherwise would have been clouded with keeping busy or maintaining efficiency. In a quiet, snow fallen haven, I had the opportunity to watch my son discover his first experience with Snow.
He could have cried- he could have fallen apart or hated the cold- but my son touching snow for the first time was like walking into Narnia. It was the unfolding of innocence and absolute purity.
While he first screamed and fought mittens and a warm hat, he soon begged to put them on. He wanted to be sticking his toddler paws into the snow, shoveling ice into his face, sticking his tongue to the bricks collecting snowflakes, and bending down to stick his face in the slush. He signed “please” repeatedly while reaching for the door handle to go back outside to head knee deep into the snow. Forget the shallow end of the snow, he wanted all in.
Innocent magic. Uninterrupted, undisturbed moments of achieving what I was meant to do and be, my son’s father.