At the age of 35 I had become very cynical of the world. After living a relatively privileged young life and going to a top tier public high school I had the world on a platter. I attended a world class public university where you have to be ok with "just being a number" due to the 40,000+ students on campus.
Very quickly out of school I joined a large multinational corporation. After 12 years or so in the business world (even in science) you become jaded. Things move slowly. People don't listen. Everyone has an agenda. It's all about next week's share price. I developed this outlook even though I had what were roundly considered to be the best managers in our various groups.
At the same time I had gone through some life-altering medical problems. They made me question my future and what kind of life lie ahead for me. They terrified me and broke me down mentally in a way that I had never experienced.
The world seems like it's getting scarier every day. Government's gridlocked. Corporations just out to exploit us. People getting less and less tolerant of each other in our fast paced world. It's all so chaotic. So depressing to watch.
Then he was born. Brayden Mitchell Yonchuk, a beautiful healthy, happy, bouncy little boy. He was cute, loud (duh look at his dad), and it seemed perfect in every way. Sure for the first few months he didn't do much except stare at you and fill his diaper but he was still perfect. As he grew I realized things about my self. You learn very early as a dad that no matter what kind of day you are having it is all erased by that scream when you walk in the house. "Daddy!"
As he grows in those toddler years he looks at everything with wonderment. "Look at that stick daddy!" I see it buddy. "Look at this playdough dot I made! " Wow that's awesome pal. "Check out this weed I just picked!" Boy that's one awesome weed buster! There is nothing that doesn't excite him. Be it nature, sports, arts, or sometimes his family and the time we have together. It's an amazing perspective. It can change your own perspective.
So that's how we get to poop. He is learning to use the potty. He went number 2 for the first time on the big potty and you would have thought he judt got into Harvard the way Melissa and I reacted. We cheered and high-fived. Hugged him and kissed him. For poop. I guess if you can cheer for poop, everything else is put in perspective.
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