Daddy Stress

I'm not going to name the person that inspired this blog. All I am going to say is that sometimes we have to tell our friends and family the truth about what’s really going on. He will never read this anyway. I am not the perfect father. I can't comb girl's hair. Reading the same book more than once in a day is crazy to me and I refused to watch Barney. Despite these flaws, I have a pretty good idea of what a dad is supposed to do. It's only right since I have the best one ever. The number one thing all brothers must remember is that you instantly become second to your child. My daddy had a wife and 5 kids. He made him the 7th most important person in our house. That man didn't do anything based on his own wants and needs first. I honestly believe that if it wasn't for holidays and his birthday, he would have had the same pair of underwear since 1974 because he never would have bought anything for himself if he thought we needed the money first. When the baby is on it's way it's not about you anymore. I didn't realize this until I experienced it. Babies don't care if you are grieving, or depressed, or feel less than a man, or whatever other kind of hang-up you might have. It's not their job to suffer while you work out your hang-ups. I'm sick and tired of all these cats that legitimize their lack of responsibility because of some sad story. That's not the baby's job to understand the bullshit you are going through. It's your job to try and make sure that they don't have bullshit. I know people from New Orleans have been through a lot. I'm high on that list. What kind of man would I be if I woke up Christmas morning and said 'Hey, daddy don't have any presents because he lost his album collection and couldn't get over it"? That would be bullshit and Tara would have the right to curse my manhood cheap if she saw fit. I couldn't be mad. I tried to tell the inspiration for this blog not to be mad. He doesn't understand that once that mama switch gets turned on in a woman's head, she could really care less about whether or not you don't feel like lifting boxes at work. If lifting boxes buys pampers then lift some boxes. Look brothers, two months after celebrating my first baby's birth, I was laid off, my uncle passed, I was unemployed for 5 months and took a twelve thousand dollar pay cut when I went back to work, then my godfather died unexpectedly, then my grandfather passed away, then came Katrina and I lost my grandmother, then my aunt died of cancer, and the whole time I was tripping. If you read this blog you know that it's been a rough ride. Through that whole time I kept working, got a promotion, my salary doubled, I drove 600 miles a week back and forth, and learned all the names of the characters on the Sprout channel even though I wanted to take off running like Forrest Gump did when Jenny left.


But I didn't because I couldn't.....


I'm Daddy....


I put myself last....


Now get your ass up and go get a damn job to take care of your family!