This week and these songs. More later, for sure. But for now it’s all about these tunes.
So I try hard not to be judgemental person. But My Little Pony pajamas for adult men. WTF.
This book makes me cry. It’s such a beautifully simple story about sharing your story with the world, about connecting with others by telling a story.
Throughout the book, Morris tries to “write of his joys and sorrows, of all that he knew and everything that he hoped for.”
This little site of mine affords me the opportunity to write of my joys and sorrows, of all that I know and everything that I hope for. What I’d like now, however, is to hear from you.
Please write to me of your joys and sorrows, of all that you know and everything that you hope for. (For the shy, anon is on and non-Tumblrs can email.)
I’ll post some of your submissions. I’m not sure what my end goal is, I guess I just want you to share your story.
I too love this book and the animated short!
Shout out to my friend Eric and his blog. Check him out.
Gather around, lords and ladies, gentle folk all. Tonight, I will tell you the tale of the Hapless Knight Eric and his battle withâ¦.the Morning Routine.Â If you be faint of heart, stay not, for thi…
Sunday was a super snowy morning and the kids and I didn’t have to go anywhere. So I made pancakes and took requests on Facebook. Here are some of the results. The one that might not be totally evident is a soccer player scoring a goal.
A Long Time Ago … I Was A Stay At Home Dad
Beyond becoming a father for the first time, leaving my job, staying home with an infant, and all that went with this—this was the time my battle with depression really began. I’ve written about this before, but not in relation to my year at home with my son.
Why me? Why paternal postpartum depression? These are certainly questions I’ve asked myself on the road to healing. In the end, the answers to these questions was very simple. Because. Because I have a family history of depression. Because I have a family history of migraines. Because it was lonely. Because I didn’t get enough sleep. Because. Because. Because.
All of my becauses didn’t add up to anything. All of my becauses added up to everything. Does that make sense? If you lived with depression, I hope it does. It is because living with depression left me fighting for my everything—my kids, their mom—with very limited emotional resources. That’s one of the huge challenges of depression—trying to not only see the light at the end of the tunnel but also make my way toward it, sometimes crawling. It pulled my away from all that I wanted—all that I needed.
Looking back, even keeping all the struggle in mind (how could I not) this was one of the greatest experiences of my life. Nothing can compare to holding my son while he napped, struggling to get him to take a bottle of pumped breast milk, learning how to make food with one hand as he slept on my shoulder, going to the library for books and company, learning to be a dad.
For me, fatherhood offered my the opportunity become the person I had always wanted to be. In the end, my battle with depression has left me a more whole and compassionate person. Sometimes you gotta tear things down and build them up again. That is a f*ing hard process to be sure. I always had to keep my eyes on “the last pale light in the west” and knowing in my heart I could reach it.
I’ve always loved “Please Please Please, Let Me Get What I Want” by The Smiths. I really like this solo version from Johnny Marr. It’s a song of hope and longing and who among us isn’t familiar with that. I remember listening to the original version from The Smiths on my Walkman. Right, does everyone know what a Walkman is?
Recently, I’ve said this to a few friends, “I’m an alternative person with mainstream financial requirements.” I’m sure I’m not the only one out there who feels this way. For me, this directly relates to the struggle for authenticity—feeling true to who I am as a person. Or, how do I make a good living and stay true to my ideals? These have also been specific topics of conversation with family and friends.
If you google “Authenticity,” you will find an article in The New York Times that informs its readers that the word is being overused to the point of loosing meaning. Reading the article, I understand the point the author is making, but I think it misses the point on a lot of levels. The article talks to about politicians and celebrities and online dating sites as though they are the true representatives of the authentic. I’d argue that these are likely the polar opposite of how I’m using the word.
I’ve said before that I still feel like the teenage DIY punk kid that loves The Clash. And I do. I might by 42 years old and have 2 kids, but that hasn’t changed my core values. If anything, it has made them stronger. And made my desire to see a just society greater.
It’s certainly easier said than done, however, to successfully accomplish forging a path that feels true and honest to who I am. Housing payments, gas, food, sneakers for the kids all add up.
So I haven’t totally figured it out yet. But I’m still working on it. I’ll keep you posted.
(That photo is an oldie but one of my favorites. The young lady in that photo is 6 now.)
Shit! Snow and violence in the media? I gotta lighten up a bit. You’d think I’m trying to be some kind of downer or something. But there was 6 inches of snow at my house the other morning. So it’s not like I’m making this stuff up.
Well, you’ve already seen my fun socks. But here’s a great little picture of me from when I was a kid—kindergarten I think. It’s leisure suit rocking goodness. And looking back on what my root causes of depression were, this outfit might totally have something to do with it. And the shoes. Yikes.