"The cold was remarkably piercing. I found myself hoping that we would get through security quickly so that perhaps the excitement of the day would provide us with some artificial warmth as we waited at our seats for the festivities to begin. Politics aside, I was very excited for Cole to be present at such a historic occasion for our country. Of the millions of gatherers in attendance, I only saw maybe a handful of children Cole’s age. I felt very strongly that this day could create a lasting memory for Cole and that he would leave the Capitol with a story that few other people his age would ever be able to claim. That’s how I felt at 7:30, anyway.At half past noon, I wasn’t so hopeful. Making it past the security gate now seemed unlikely. We had traveled baby step by baby step for the last five hours, and even though we could now see the gate, it still looked to be farther away than we could traverse in thirty minutes. I began to feel sad. I had gotten Cole so close to this, and he was going to leave completely disillusioned and unfulfilled. I began to ask myself why I hadn’t left earlier in the morning; should I have been less cattle-like in my acceptance of the line; what could I have done to secure a better outcome for us? I felt like I should have tried something different. We trudged along with a defeated look on our faces, and I began to talk to Cole about managing our expectations, wanting to ready him for the letdown that seemed to be just around the bend."
This small example is from chapter 2, 'What Is a Family'.
"My father abandoned our family and my parents divorced when I was thirteen years old, but I never once considered that the man who walked out on us was anything but my father. Long after he had passed on, his departure remains one of the most devastating moments of my life. After he left, I would often in the middle of the night stand in our second-floor bathroom and look out on the road that led to our house. Even though I knew he wasn’t coming back, I’d allow myself to feel excited when the lights from a random car brightened the street. In the brief moments between seeing the headlights and watching the car drive past our house, I’d imagine what our lives would be like again if he’d only change his mind and come home. Other nights, I’d sneak down to the living room and pull out the family portrait that my mom had taken down and stuffed into the back of a coat closet. It was in a big frame, and I’d sit with it on the couch until I felt better."
Lastly, chapter 22, the night Arden was diagnosed with type I diabetes. 'Her Breath Smells Funny'.
"It was sometime around three thirty in the morning when a man we had never met before told my wife and me that our daughter had type 1 diabetes and that “her life would never be the same.” I’ve always been thankful that Arden was sleeping when we heard the news because I couldn’t stop crying. I would have been even more devastated if I had cried in front of her. They ushered us into a tiny room outside of the ICU. I hesitate to call it a room, actually, because it was a space with a door, just large enough to hold an ugly vinyl loveseat and a small table with an outdated magazine. The nurse told us that they were going to stabilize Arden’s blood glucose and then come and get us. She told us we should rest, but what I think she meant was to get some sleep now because this would be our last opportunity for rest.
Kelly and I sat down, and without saying a word or even making eye contact, we leaned into each other and fell asleep. What I remember clearest about sitting down on that loveseat was that when we leaned on each other I felt something that I had never experienced before in my life. I could feel Kelly’s desperation and grief through her skin, and I was sure that she could feel mine."
Life Is Short, Laundry Is Eternal: Confessions of a Stay-At-Home Dad is on sale now everywhere that books are sold in paperback and all eReader formats. I hope that you enjoy my confessions!
Laundry Is Indeed Eternal
What Is a Family?
The Path to Parenthood Starts with Sex
The Nine-Month Countdown
I Thought You Were Going to Keep Him Alive?
Quitting My Job Was Like Starting Over
A Typical Day at My Office
To Think I Was Worried About Baby Vomit
I Only Dropped Him Once
A Little Help from My Favorite Books
Lunch with the Lions
I May Be Growing Ovaries
Baseball, Part I
Baseball, Part II
I Remember Having Sex ... and the Baby Proves It!
Could I See You in the Basement for a Minute?
Sleep—Get It Now
There’s No Such Thing as Gender Specific
Two Perfect Years
Life Has a Way of Getting in the Way of Living
Her Breath Smells Funny
The Saddest That I Have Ever Been
Learning About Our New Reality
Writing on the Internet Saved Me
His Last Chapter