So Bridget, Jacob, and I have all started back to school. For Bridget it is the same routine she has been used to the last two years while I was home with the little warrior. For me, I have to admit after the first day I was seriously considering leaving education and finding another job in the world of paint. Of course, this was a normal feeling after so many changes that had become comfortable and welcome - as the main caregiver the last two school years.

I returned to fourth grade (a new grade level for me), a new school, and the thought that I most certainly will not be seeing as much of my son as I had grown accustomed. It was culture shock for that first day.

After an almost full week (four days because of Labor Day), I am back on the bike so to speak. I feel comfortable, confident, and pretty secure in the assumption that I can do this for the next 24 years or so. I’m back.

Jacob, on the other hand, is in a world of hurt. The first few days were fine for him. My mother watched him everyday until he began nursery school on Wednesday. That’s when the castle began to crumble.

The first morning I dropped him off and he seemed eager to go - after months of saying “that’s your school” as we drove by it all summer long. I brought him into the school and we met Ms. Monica, one of the teachers. She seemed very kind and Jacob was okay with a hug and a kiss goodbye from me. He didn’t cry - or so I thought.

I left and arrived at school ten minutes later. I taught all morning, with thoughts of him in my head, and then I received an upsetting email from the woman who cares for Jacob the three afternoons he goes to school. She said he cried almost all morning and was asking to go home. I was so disappointed and heartbroken to hear that he did not enjoy his morning. The rest of his day was more blissful, as he really likes Gal and staying with her for lunch and a nap.

I arrived home that afternoon, after picking Jacob up at Gal’s, and I spoke with Bridget about what happened. We both agreed that CHANGE is hard. I had survived mine the week before, and he was going to survive his. We sent Jacob back on Thursday and Friday morning.

Each day he cried when I left (I’m the lucky one who gets this job - since I start my day ten minutes later), but he also stopped crying shortly after I left. I am okay with that for now. The big picture of socialization and learning is much more important than a few tears.

The hardest part in all of this is that as a parent we all have to let go a little. At two and half, Jacob is more of a person than ever. To keep him isolated from the world could be tougher later on. So he will go to nursery school - whether he likes it or not.

Hopefully he will like it more in time. We think he will. Of course, for now we will have to put up with, “I don’t want to go to school anymore.”

I know what you mean, brother. I know what you mean.

Resist. Multiply. Don’t cry when your kid does.

Our president made CHANGE the center of his campaign. I have talked about it much lately, too. It is an inevitable thing. We cannot avoid it. Change comes to us all in many forms and many connotations. In less than two weeks I will embark on yet another change in my life. I’ve seen numerous changes to my life in the last two years, and perhaps the best has been the addition of Jacob into it. He is an absolute joyful son and each day with him has been a blessing.

Now the hard part is coming….letting go a bit. In September I go back to work full time and Jacob will be enrolled in nursery school three mornings a week. The rest of the time he will be with my amazing mother and another fantastic woman, Valerie, a mother of four boys, all grown. Of course, my mother-in-law will help plenty, as well. She is terrific and Jacob loves both his grandmothers so much. This was the best we could do for the first five months of the school year. Bridget and I wanted to ease the little man into school and also allow him to keep his nap schedule. Again we are lucky to have great support - even if we have to pay for some of it.

CHANGE is upon us all in many good ways, but I know I will feel a huge pang of sadness at letting go of the best two years of fatherhood - staying home with Jacob. I have bonded with my son and he has done the same with me, but I somehow feel he will be more resilient. Ironic, isn’t it? He’s two and a half and I am thirty one, but he is better equipped at letting go. How did that happen?

The newest and best news I have to offer is that Bridget and I are expecting again. Yes, it’s true and you can feel free to send a congratulations our way if you feel inclined. That CHANGE will be here in February. Until then, Jacob will be telling all who will listen, “I’m going to be a big brother.”

Resist. Multiply. Accept CHANGE because what is the alternative?

I am alive a short thirty one years and I have come to learn some important, crucial lessons in the that time. I am more observant of these lessons lately. Maybe it has everything to do with the changes in my life over that last two years. Maybe it has to do with more time spent with my father and son over that span of time. Maybe it even has to do with the constant examining, and reexamining of my role in Bridget’s life, in my family’s life, and how I view myself. I am not my jeans or my Manchester United tee shirt. I am not the facial hair on my face that is not completely clean-shaven, but not completely dirty either. I am not the 7 o’clock bedtime we have set for Jacob, or the 6:30 wake up call he sets for us the next morning. I am so much more than that and I know it. The world views me the way I view the world. I guess. I hope. 

The truth is I have come to learn one thing in all this time with a great deal of certainty. I am the best and the worst of my own father. What I mean by this is actually quite simple and not at all deep by any means. DNA is inescapable. It makes us who we are. It defines so much of us before we are even who we know as “us”. The more time I spend with my own father (the amazing 80’s Dad) the more I realize in many respects I am just like him. Sure I hope that I am also a better model in some ways, but the best parts of him are also me, too. I want to keep those parts and I can only hope that Jacob will keep those parts of me, as well. That needs to be repeated - an example for each generation of Prescott man to replicate. The worst parts are probably there, too. I have worked hard to lessen their severity, however. I am almost exactly half the age of my father and with that comes a greater ability to change. When you are 63 years old - so easy it is not. (Yoda)

The point (maybe): Regardless, I am more aware of the fact that my father was my first teacher. He showed me how to be a man. The version of the man I am today has plenty to do with how he taught me - in actions and deeds, in successes and mistakes, in happy times and sad ones. Jacob is already learning these lessons from me. 

With Father’s Day coming up think about your dad and the influence (good or bad) he may have had on you. I am lucky I have a father who is terrific. He is always there for me and a big reason why I am hopefully going to be a great father, too. 

I hope this post makes sense. I hope you read it and reread it and pass it along to others. I hope I am not being too presumptuous. If I am…..well…oh well. I had good intentions. I guess I get that from my father, too.

Resist. Multiply. Enjoy this funny picture of Jacob and Bridget’s foot. That’s my DNA, son!

This is the last official month of my two year tour of duty taking care of Jacob and being dubbed the primary caregiver. I am trying my best to enjoy each moment, but it is hard to realize that a situation that I have come to know and love is coming to an end. Like I have said in past posts, everything must come to an end.

Easier said than done.

With change comes uncertainty and maybe even a little nervousness. Though I am excited for the future - for the prospect of greater independence and social maturity for Jacob - I remain a little sad that I will not be there for every moment. I guess that is reality. That’s the natural order of things. I will have three months of painting to come to terms with it.

Side note: Recently, Jacob has really developed a great sense of communication with Bridget and myself. He is talking so much and expressing so much lately. It’s pretty rad. I am happy that he is so expressive and that he understands even more when he is spoken to by either Bridget or myself.

Additional Side Note: Last weekend Bridget and I threw an awesome party in our backyard. We had plenty of food, drinks, and good music for our guests to enjoy. The forecast was bad, however. Earlier in the day I asked two of my buddies to come by and help me put up a tarp to ensure that wet weather would not ruin the festivities. Jacob had a ball running around the backyard while we managed to hook up this tarp.  It did rain, and the crew that remained latest stayed dry under our tarp. Good times. (Flip cup - a popular college game - was a main attraction and a trip down memory lane for many of us.) Only one casualty of the party - the back steps broke under the weight of one of my buddies. They had rotted and have since been replaced by a competent handy man my father is friends with. Jacob thought he was a real life “Handy Manny”.

Back on track: Life is short and it is important to cherish the good times. I plan to have some more friends over this whole summer and enjoy the company that they bring. I plan to enjoy my son and my current situation as long as I can. I will always be his father and he will always be my son, but that dynamic is an ever-changing one. That’s cool with me.

Resist. Multiply. Play some flip cup.

I have thought a lot about my purpose in staying home the last two years and I am constantly trying to reinvent myself as a husband, a father, and most importantly – as a man in today’s volatile world.  The idea of change is not a new one.  It is what keeps me grounded as of late, however.  I am working and striving to be a better version of myself.  So I come to the question:  What do I want out of this last year at home with Jacob?

I sit and I think about it.  Sitting and thinking are actions reserved for the time when Jacob is either down for the night or taking a mid-morning nap and/or mid-afternoon siesta.  I am lucky because lately these naps last upwards of two hours.  Enough time to write down thoughts of what fatherhood has done to me and is continuing to do to me.  I already have noticed many changes in how I perceive the world, how I think about the future, and how I view my wonderfully talented wife, Bridget.  She amazes me.  I am lucky also because I have a very happy son, who enjoys playing, eating, taking baths, looking at books, and sleeping.  This little man has the life that I hope I had at his age.  He is all the more fortunate because when I go back to work, it is very likely that Bridget will be home with him again – along with another bundle of joy.  (Don’t get any ideas that she is pregnant again, yet.  She is not, but we have had that conversation recently.)  Who knows what time will bring?

Back to the point at hand - CHANGE. Metamorphosis is another word for it.  Of course, I am not changing in a biological sense.  I am simply thinking differently these days and experiencing a metamorphosis of how I observe things.  I will not turn into a bug like in Kafka’s novella of the same name.  Instead, I am reminded of activities I did with my father growing up and how soon it will be my turn to do these things with Jacob.  The first bike ride, kicking a soccer ball, playing catch, going to see a movie, and many more events like this are what I have to look forward to.

So I think about what is different these days for me.  Is it how I get excited about taking Jacob for a walk in our high tech jogging stroller?  Sure.  Maybe it is also the way he eats his dinner with such vigor and enthusiasm. Yes, that too.  Perhaps, it could be how he smiles at Bridget and me when we are both with him at night or on the weekends.  That’s got to be it.  It could quite possibly be the fact that when he poops and I get it on my hand while changing his diaper – I simply don’t care.  I know that sounds gross, but it is true.  I don’t care – it’s my son’s poop and I love him.

Change is inevitable.  Being cognizant of it is not something everyone is able to do.  There are plenty of people I know that I wish would change, but they are unaware that they need to.  Whatever the case may be, I know I still have some growing up to do.  Just because I am a dad now, does not mean I am done changing.  I may never finish.  Time will tell.

Jacob knows that I’m his dad and that is enough for the moment, but eventually he will need to know I am the best dad he is ever going to have.  That’s when the pressure to be that father will come into play.  Hopefully I won’t disappoint him. Hopefully I can change enough for that to be true.

Tomorrow: The Novel, An Excerpt

Resist. Multiply.