It’s wonderful to be a father. I always suspected as much, but there are some things in life you just have to experience in order to truly understand. Sure, being a parent is hard work. You learn to die to your wants and to put your spouse and kid(s) ahead of yourself. You sleep less, you work more. But it’s all worth it when you see that smile, hear that laugh, and get that hug

As I sit by my daughter’s bed at 2am – teething, I’ve been told, will eventually pass – a number of thoughts traverse my tired mind. Most are muddled. What day is it? Did the Cubs win yesterday? What is the meaning of life? But I keep returning to one thought in particular: life is so complex. Doing some self-psychologizing, I came to realize a couple of things about this thought. Firstly, it’s not truly

You know that feeling of knowing that serious pain is coming and there is no way out of it? Like knowing throughout a pregnancy that labor pains are coming one day and there is no way to make it out without feeling them? The type of situations that you dread but know deep down you’re just going to have to get through them? The ones where trying to think things through and analyze and rationalize

In a frenzy of thoughts and emotions I wrote the first draft to this piece.  It was written in the eye of the storm, so to speak; that time right after the panicked shuffle to the hospital and right before the final stages of labor kicks in.  There was a small window of time when all was calm and the nurses were tending to my wife and I was able to write out my thoughts.  There

As I stood in the sterile and strange new world of a hospital recovery room, having given birth less than 24-hours prior, one of my remarkable nurses walked in to check on me and my new baby. “How do you feel?” she asked. Such a simple question, but so many answers ran through my mind. Tired, sore, elated, uncertain. My answer was, “Empty.” I was not empty on an emotional level, rather empty in a

Modern feminism has failed. I proclaim this as a modern woman: I will soon graduate with a master’s degree, I am training to become a half-marathoner, and my fiancé and I make our major decisions together. My gender has never prevented me from education, sport, ownership, or participation. I owe a large debt to the men and women of the early twentieth century feminism, who fought for my right to vote, who petitioned for Title