My Crash-course in Daddyhood Started 2 Years Ago

Crash Feature

My son turns 2 years old on Feb. 16.

WOW!

I thought I would celebrate our voyage into the “Terrible Twos” by revisiting several blog posts that I wrote since his birth. (That little sucker was a tremendous source of fodder right out of the womb.)

This is the first of four blog posts in four days describing my Crash-course initiation into daddyhood.

This four-part series is dedicated to all our wonderfully great family and friends who have provided love, prayers and support over the last two years. It takes a village to raise a child, and our “village” is nothing short of incredible. Thank you!

• • •

There are some blog posts that simply write themselves – the content is so compelling and/or poignant and/or humorous that you simply let your fingers go crazy and hope your brain doesn’t screw anything up.

This should be one of those posts, because…

I’m proud to introduce my first-born son – Crash Myers – to “the world.”

(I’m putting an emphasis on “should write itself,” because my sleep-deprived brain is working at the same capacity as a bowl of instant oatmeal.)

Right now, Crash is celebrating his 1-month birthday comfortably pressed against his mom’s chest, sucking the varnish off his vanilla-flavored pacifier, and counting down the minutes until he gets to enjoy the steak and baked potato that TK ate for dinner.

It’s so cool – not just the sweet scene described above – but EVERYTHING.

Here is an e-mail that I sent to several family members and friends right after he was born:

I just wanted to share this picture with you. (It was taken by our neighbor, Arlene.)

Update: Crash is a STUD and LOVES his mommy.
(I think it’s the whole breast milk thing.)

You think you’re ready for something like this, but as I was singing him to sleep after his morning feeding, I broke down a little
(in a good way). I don’t mean to be over-dramatic and sappy, but this is the coolest thing EVER! How can people look at a baby and not believe in God and/or love?

Thanks for all of your support through this amazing adventure.

Love,

Drew

That incredible feeling – that hit me like a wave on Feb. 16th at 10:39 a.m. – has only gotten stronger.

Actually, this blog post is kind of difficult to write – because there are so many wonderfully great things to share.

To make it easy on my numb brain – I thought a logical place to start would be the delivery room.

There were several things that really stood out to me:

• My wife was an all-star. I even asked her between pushes if she had done this before. They broke her water at 7:30 a.m. and Crash was stealing our heart before 11 o’clock.

TK rocked the pregnancy, crushed the delivery, and she could have received an honorary degree in lactation consulting. (“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”)

While we’re on the subject of my wife: She is the toughest, strongest, most wonderful woman that I know. She has such a huge heart – more than enough to love all her boys. Crash is a very lucky little man.

• I didn’t lose it, like I anticipated. I thought I was going to cry like…well….a baby. I didn’t. There were a few tears, but the confidence and clarity, that Crash instantly provided, dried me up.

• I’ve always been terrified to hold a baby under the age of 9 months old. Changing a diaper? Ha! Right! When Crash crashed into this world, I instantly became Super Dad. God flipped a switch in my brain, and I just started doing what ever was necessary to provide for my son. It goes back to clarity and confidence. It was awesome!

• • •

After Crash was born, he was catapulted into the middle of his first battle. His arch nemesis: Low blood sugar. This fight sent him to the NICU, but he came through like a warrior.

The experience really brought me and TK closer together, and I was so proud of my boy – but it was all the babies in the intensive care unit that stole my focus and attention.

My Facebook status after we were discharged: “WE’RE GOING HOME! Thank you for all of the prayers. I have one more request, though. Please pray for all the families who still have a baby in NICU – there are almost 40 at All Saints alone. I bet you even know someone living this horrible adventure right now.”

• • •

Since we pulled into the driveway as a family, it has been a “trying” and “educational” experience. Those both carry negative connotations, but it’s totally opposite. In a sick and twisted, former football coach kind of way – this is fun.

I love trying to figure it all out – what works best…can we tweak his schedule just little…what if we did this…how can we improve that.

What do we need to do in order to “win” today?

The funny thing is: Even if Crash screams his head off for a couple of hours and signs off with an up-the-back blowout…it’s still so wonderfully great.

WIN!

Even though he doesn’t know me from Gus (our dog), I still love coming home and holding his perfect little hand and kissing his soft little cheek.

VICTORY!

Even if I’m forced to function on less than 3 hours sleep, it all fades away when Crash falls asleep on my chest during my quite time the next day.

CHAMPIONSHIP!

You know what…several people have encouraged me to write a regular blog and/or a book about being a dad.

They may be on to something.

This was the easiest blog post I’ve ever written.

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