Eight

A year before I started the blog Poop and Boogies my oldest child was born. I never did document in the web log form all of those "firsts". Or all of those first time parent feelings of being awed and scared and excited and tired and happy and scared and proud and scared.

A few days after he was born I drove Maxfield home from the hospital doing 15 MPH and cursing under my breath all of those people on the road who would dare drive at 25 while I had a new born in my car. I remember waking up in the middle of the night just to check on him to make sure he was breathing. I remember the overwhelming feeling of being afraid that I would somehow break this new child.

Eight Years later he is still not broken.

I think.

I hope.

My dad used to call me on Max's birthday and wish me a Happy father's day because that is the day I became a father. He would wish Lauren a Happy Mother's day for the same reason.

Happy Father's Day to me.