Woke up 5:30.

Washed face with Brommer’s soap.

Dog walk until poop, then turn around.

Sipped coffee. Very hot.

Wrote Alt Dad. With coffee lid off.

Taught yoga.

Ended with fish pose.

Pull ups at gym.

Came home. Resisted looking at social media on phone.

Kate went to BodyPump class. Resisted looking at social media on phone.

Gave in.

Insta messaged friend who also teaches yoga and also teaches English.

Messaged about sex and how its taboo to discuss.

We picked a date for a podcast.

It’s going to be fantastic.

I ate a slice of salami.

Brewed cinnamon apple tea.

Walked Ellie around in mist rain in Baby Bjorn.

I put her in a yellow onesie.

Kate returned.

Made breakfast. Fried eggs over greens.

Said Kate please come in for breakfast.

She said I heard you I’m paying the credit card bill.

Ate like an animal.

Checked email.

Checked Instagram.

Checked Facebook.

Put on khaki pants for work.

Talked to students about five paragraph essay final exam.

Met beat maker at coffeeshop. We clicked.

Made plans to click more.

Listened to NF and Witt Lowry, per his suggestion.

Walked home. Warm day.

Kate’s coloring her soccer player’s hair and I hold Ellie’s hands while she practiced lifting her left foot and then right food and then left….

Another soccer player came over. Help with transfer papers, process.

I drive dog and baby to woods.

Walk and listen to Joe Rogan podcast. Joe is high and easily excitable.

Dog won’t get back in car. I run after him. This isn’t a game, I say.

Transfer paper soccer player is still there.

Baby is hot. Finally pooped. I wipe her butt and put on a new diaper.

Just the diaper. It’s too hot for clothes.

I ask Kate how much longer.

She says a few minutes.

Which means forever so I go outside in the back yard and see dirt and mud.

Resist resisting, I think.

I put the baby between my legs, let both our toes sink in.

The soccer player left and Kate takes the baby to bed to eat and sleep and I look at the chicken in the crock pot.

The onions and garlic are soft. The chicken is soft so I pull it.

I feel hungry.

When the baby wakes up, I hold her in one arm and cut the butts off the brussel sprouts with a big chef’s knife.

The baby wants the brussel sprouts.

I put them in the hot oven.

We split a beer.

During dinner, I tell Kate that she should feed the baby with a smaller spoon, and hold her arms back so she doesn’t put her fingers in it and then I say maybe she’s not hungry for banana mush, maybe she wants breastmilk. And Kate says thank you very much but I can handle this. And I look at her like woah okay crabby. And then we spend the next hour classifying and describing what happened and what was said and how it made us feel and if you want to know what I think, I think that hyperawareness from the very beginning, right when the conflict moment is born is absolutely key and from that point on each and every word and body gesture and tone matters very very very much.

After that, I put Irish butter on sourdough bread I made a few days ago and felt the fat melt on my tongue.

I turned the air conditioning on. Because 76 is too hot. It needs to be 66.

Then I set my alarm.

Then Kate set her alarm.

Then I went to bed.

Then Kate came to bed.

She said you never turn your phone on airplane mode

And I said I know I like you to do it for me.

And then eventually I turned the light out.

And eventually we fell asleep.

And at some point the cat climbed on me.

And at some point I threw her off.

And at some point I got up to pee.

Actually I did that at least twice.

It’s hard to remember and distinguish.


>>>PS. It’s possible that this is a monotonous monologue. A bare bones description of I-did-this, I-did-that. While it’s not complete, and it’s not particularly robust on the writing scale, I think this moment to moment tour is necessary to bring transparency and honesty to pages that might be come too preacher pulpit or soapbox or political platform, even though I don’t intend them to be. Also, looking back and reflecting, It’s somehow sobering to look back at the quotidian details of day and realize these unimportant individual moments amount to a day, to a life. So it’s important, like Ram Dass says, to BE HERE NOW.


>>>PSS. The Alt Dad Diary, like everything else on the planet, thrives on positive energy. When folks message me and say woah Ryan this is really raw and refreshing and real, when folks throw a few dollars my way each month, when people click Like or leave a Comment, it’s like a warm bath and it makes a huge mental difference. I think support builds a tangible felt community in a digital world where community is fading fast. If you’d like to support this community, check out patreon.com/altdaddiary for details. Even a single dollar per month is MASSIVE. Until tomorrow. Bye bye.