UrbanDad

I am from Toronto. Lived here my most of my life save for 11 months travelling in Australasia, four months on a futon, red-eyed in Vancouver and the first six months of my life in then small town and now suburban Newmarket, Ontario.  I have lived in a variety of nooks and crannies of this city.  From a roach infested basement apartment on the cusp of Scarborough, to next to a crack house in Parkdale. High Park, The Beach, The Danforth, Queen and Spadina until finally returning to the leafy confines of where I grew up, my beloved North Toronto.  So yes I am Urban.

And yes I am a dad.  A proud, frustrated, hopeful, cynical, manic, anxious, grateful dad.  When I die, I hopefully will be defined by very few things and father pretty much leads that list. My fear of not doing a good job as a father sits on the top of my nerves like an elephant reading the paper, resting after a long walk. It’s so heavy sometimes that I begin to understand what a breakdown would feel like. I love them so much – to a fault really – as that love, that appreciation for their mere existence morphs into spoiling and bending and caving and giving and forgetting that it is also my responsibility to be objective in the lessons I am supposed to be offering them.  So in summary, yes, like others, I am a dad.

What I am not anymore is an UrbanMom.

So I am an Urban Dad and will be for the time being. What I am not anymore is an UrbanMom.

This is my last post.  I felt I could not keep up with a level of commitment that is needed for regular web traffic, so I am bowing out gracefully. Met some great people here and those relationships will continue.  I am truly happy about that.

I will continue to write at my personal blog and flag new posts on Facebook for those interested in following my so called life.

Thankfully, they do not have to be PG. So be warned (and excited!).

Thanks to Jen and for the opportunity and to all the UrbanMom readers that read and commented.