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.