Definitively Nuanced

Grappling with life's complexities.

The Horrific Day My Daughter Was Born

I love stories from a father’s perspective when observing his child being born.


7:57 A.M.

I heard the question, but I was a mist, trying to catch up with the moment, and choking on my emotions. I heard it again (“What’s her name?”), but it was a mere echo in the distance, a faint and muddled inquiry in stupefied ears. I couldn’t respond.

A full cast of medical staff swirled about the room like a Broadway dream-scene dance number. I was little more than a prop, frozen and dimly lit–an unremarkable tree tucked ignominiously in the background of a delivery room set. Lindsey, in the spotlight, played the role of the suffering queen while a princess emerged on center stage in nothing short of horrifying fashion.

Skipping the usually-immediate skin-to-skin contact shared between mother and baby, the nurse snatched our child and rushed her to the scale. It was then that I heard another, more familiar, voice begging beneath the noise.

“Is she breathing?”…

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When You Can No Longer Be Your Kid’s Hero, Be A Dad

“I guess the key as dads is to own up to our mistakes, apologize for the poor example we set, and reveal our humanity to our children through honest vulnerability. It’s easy to want to be the hero for our kids, strong and wise, but if we can’t be their heroes (which we can’t because we’re imperfect), we can at least be honest. We can be their dads.”


I bought Isaiah a bubble machine. Well, I bought three.

The first one, a Thomas the Tank Engine handgun, dribbled saliva from a plastic chimney like a leaky faucet. I returned it that afternoon (on the basis of it being stupid) and bought the Blitz Bubble Blow Out Machine.

As the father of a toddler, when I think of the term blow-out, I cringe at the all-too-fresh memory of a more malicious and odorous bubbling along my child’s spine. However, unlike Tommy the Stank Engine, the Blitz is no piece of poo.

No, sir, Bob.

This thing pushes out more bubbles than your flatulent grandpa in a hot tub.

That’s right.

It’s awesome.

Of course, the first Blitz we had got stuck on so I exchanged it for yet another one of which I protect with my life so as to not have to make another trip to Meijer, griping…

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Older White Males

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It’s A Four Letter Word

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Lately I've been dividing Skittles up into two colors and hiding ten at a time for my two grandsons to find. Shane (4) is commissioned to find 5 of one color and Wesley (2) 5 of the other. Their seeking... Continue Reading →

Meet My Dog, Maddy Girl

Our dog, Maddy, is a 6 pound shih tzu/poodle mix. She's docile, submissive, sheepish, gentle, timid, yielding, resigned... She is alpha to no-one (with the exception of maybe Wendell, her nephew puppy, who she gives the news to when he won't... Continue Reading →

Blessed Is The Pit

Do any of us ask to hit rock bottom? I certainly did not. Even though I have claimed the name of Christ for many years, my descent to the bottom was gradual. The growing darkness and degree of numbness happened... Continue Reading →

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