30.12.2024. SUNDAY
00:50 am
Hi, I’m Filip. I’m 29, and two days ago, I found out I will be a father.
A father! Jesus.
I am a WoW player (I know) and there’s a famous quote, boomed in a growling voice, that has been ringing between my ears for the past 48 hours: “You are NOT prepared.”
I plan to change that. And I plan to document it as linguistically entertaining as I can; even though, there are some not so entertaining thoughts, feelings, and self-evaluations hiding underneath. I’d say deep underneath, to sound all manly and mysterious; but I think you will soon find out I tend to wear my feelings on the cuffs of my sleeves, and they often slip out, and splatter in front of my feet. Or even more often in front of the feet of people close to me.
OK, enough about feet.
There are many sources she can turn to when she’s expecting. A whirlwind of dizzying information spanning across articles, phone applications, and documentaries. Covering all about what her body and mind is about to go through. Preparing her for the act, for the feeling, and for any and all issues that might arise.
But I wanted to make something for him. For the guy who, just like myself, got invited to a bathroom on one seemingly random day to stare at the two parallel lines standing stark on a strip of plastic laying on top of a sheet of toilet paper. A guy who couldn’t muster a cohesive sentence. A guy who had a chance to say something profound, but who marked the only time in his life when he first found out he will be a father with three words “Holy fucking shit!”
If that’s you, you’ve (hopefully) come to the right place.
Come and join me as I attempt to wrestle with societies’ expectations, my family’s expectations, and my own dreamy images of what a perfect father looks like. Join me as I navigate through relationships, marriage, addictions, responsibilities, interests, and hobbies; and as I attempt to find my own way of doing it. And doing it right.
I want to spill it right out, tell you my story, tell you why I’m doing it. Tell you all about this Saint who is carrying my child (I will never get used to saying it) and who is currently sleeping next to me as I’m drumming these words out on my laptop late in the night. But the story has just begun, and we are 280 long days away from its end.