Fatherhood is...

High-res (Stay-at-Home) Fatherhood is Stage 5: Satisfaction.
It’s the giggle you thought you’d never get.
The grunts and gurgles and rattles and bells they ring on the floor.
The dance you lead as she glances excitedly around the room; the smile he flashes when he flies like an airplane.
The sucking sound, the burping sound…and the smelly sound too.
The whine that follows the panicked cry, and the bottom lip you get to kiss.
The work you miss but still get done, the presentation you give over Skype to 80 attendants while entertaining the audience of 2 in your living room.
The nap you accidentally take when they don’t wake up from theirs.
The persistence of that itsy bitsy spider.
The brief moment you spend outside, protecting bald spots from the sun with your shadow.
It’s every thank you for every “Twins? How precious!”
It’s every sure enough for every “Looks like you got your hands full.”
It’s the heavy eyes shutting on the bedtime bottle and the endearing weight on your shoulder as they give up the fight.
It’s the hardest job you’ve ever had, the only one you wish you did. It’s the most accomplished you’ve felt in months.
I’d call up Mick and let him know, but I think I lost his number.

(Stay-at-Home) Fatherhood is Stage 5: Satisfaction.

It’s the giggle you thought you’d never get.

The grunts and gurgles and rattles and bells they ring on the floor.

The dance you lead as she glances excitedly around the room; the smile he flashes when he flies like an airplane.

The sucking sound, the burping sound…and the smelly sound too.

The whine that follows the panicked cry, and the bottom lip you get to kiss.

The work you miss but still get done, the presentation you give over Skype to 80 attendants while entertaining the audience of 2 in your living room.

The nap you accidentally take when they don’t wake up from theirs.

The persistence of that itsy bitsy spider.

The brief moment you spend outside, protecting bald spots from the sun with your shadow.

It’s every thank you for every “Twins? How precious!”

It’s every sure enough for every “Looks like you got your hands full.”

It’s the heavy eyes shutting on the bedtime bottle and the endearing weight on your shoulder as they give up the fight.

It’s the hardest job you’ve ever had, the only one you wish you did. It’s the most accomplished you’ve felt in months.

I’d call up Mick and let him know, but I think I lost his number.