I miss sleeping in.

I miss being lazy.

For that matter, I miss being ambitious, too… getting on a roll and throwing myself into something for a few hours at a time…without interruption.

I miss indulgent meals out.

I miss travel.

I miss adult conversations that have the opportunity to unfold over too much wine and too few hours.

I miss spending half a day, guitar in hand, writing songs.

I love the moment when I flip on the lights in my son’s room and he smiles at me through his crib bars.

I love the noises he makes, how they fill up an otherwise quiet apartment.

I love the total lack of self-consciousness I feel while playing with him.

I love seeing flashes of my wife or our families on his face.

I love the clarity of purpose that accompanies the responsibility of raising a child.

I love sharing food, even if he does take more off my plate than I expected.

I love seeing Colleen as a mom.

I miss fawning over the dog and treating him like a baby.

I miss spontaneity. Everything has to be planned in advance now.

I miss small, hole-in-the-wall restaurants or bars that barely have room for us much less a high chair

I love bragging and showing off pictures.

I love our morning routine of playing, breakfast, Sesame Street, coffee, Children’s Museum, reading, nap, and lunch.

I love making him laugh.