820,880 Minutes

I have a soft spot for dad blogs.  There, I said it.

Maybe it's because they're typically funny as all get-out, maybe it's because I'm a tramp who likey the boys; I don't know.  What I do know is that I've read some pretty amazing stuff from this awesome group of guys who have braved the rough waters of the parent-blog world over the years.

I also know that I have pretty strong feelings about father's rights, and that I'm torn over that within myself.  For example, I'm all about the right to choose, but I counter that with a pretty strong feeling that if the guy isn't an asshole drug dealing wife-beater, he should have a say in that decision.  How do I balance that within myself?  I don't. I have very very strong feelings about what seems to me to be a unfair bias within the court system to automatically grant custody to the mother in divorce, regardless of who's more fit a parent.

Yes, I am totally projecting my own issues here, thanks for noticing.

Maybe what it comes down to is that I grew up in a world that didn't really dole out the great male role models with any frequency, and I find it refreshing to read the stories these fathers have to tell through their blogs, to read as they share their joys and their heartbreaks and their triumphs and their struggles.  It restores my faith in mankind.

So when I read this the other week at Gaming With Baby, well; let's just say I ached a little bit that day.  I can't find the words for what it was about Will's post that struck me so hard, and I won't try.  It's a beautiful post, in a really heartbreaking, coming full-circle sort of way, and I couldn't do any sort of it justice by trying to sum it up.

I nominated 570 for Petroville and Suburban Turmoil's Perfect Post award for October.  I really encourage you to go give it a read.