Micah checking things out
27 March 2005
26 March 2005
Actually going to write one
Don't worry--there'll be more pictures to come, but I'm here alone in the public library, don't feel like grading any more, and have four hours of solitude to overcome.
So I'll write on my blog!
Micah is now nineteen days old. Since nobody in my house gets sick on a weekday, we spent some of the wee hours this morning in the emergency room getting him checked out for pink eye. Mary tells me it'll go away with relatively little pain, but it still pains me to see gunk coming out of my son's eye.
The grand existential shift from "not-father" to "father" hasn't been all that traumatic for me, though I do love my son dearly and know that his presence is redefining my own life. But the day-to-day is actually far more telling than the big-question with regards to having a new son. My body has gotten used to little sleep, but my mind wants to be working on something when I'm home, so the rhythm that a newborn imposes on one's life has been one of those "costly grace" experiences for me--in other words, I'm going nuts. I should be thinking about my next project or spending hours reading important books or at the very least working on my Madden football franchise. But instead I'm waiting for the next poop to come so that I can change the next diaper. I'm waiting for Micah to wake up so that I can take him over to Mary to eat for the tenth time today. My life is not accomplishing anything that will bear recognition or accomplishment or professional advancement, and I just have to keep at it. And I believe that God is shaping me through all of this drudgery. No wonder I've been accused of being a Protestant!
So I'll write on my blog!
Micah is now nineteen days old. Since nobody in my house gets sick on a weekday, we spent some of the wee hours this morning in the emergency room getting him checked out for pink eye. Mary tells me it'll go away with relatively little pain, but it still pains me to see gunk coming out of my son's eye.
The grand existential shift from "not-father" to "father" hasn't been all that traumatic for me, though I do love my son dearly and know that his presence is redefining my own life. But the day-to-day is actually far more telling than the big-question with regards to having a new son. My body has gotten used to little sleep, but my mind wants to be working on something when I'm home, so the rhythm that a newborn imposes on one's life has been one of those "costly grace" experiences for me--in other words, I'm going nuts. I should be thinking about my next project or spending hours reading important books or at the very least working on my Madden football franchise. But instead I'm waiting for the next poop to come so that I can change the next diaper. I'm waiting for Micah to wake up so that I can take him over to Mary to eat for the tenth time today. My life is not accomplishing anything that will bear recognition or accomplishment or professional advancement, and I just have to keep at it. And I believe that God is shaping me through all of this drudgery. No wonder I've been accused of being a Protestant!
17 March 2005
14 March 2005
09 March 2005
Pictures coming soon
I'm a father! Micah was born 7 March 2005 at 1:25 PM. He was seven pounds, four ounces, and twenty-one inches long. If I can get Hello working, there'll be pictures soon.
05 March 2005
What kind of pirate am I?
What kind of pirate am I? You decide!
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