Before Ezra was born, people used to tell me all the time, "you're going to love being a dad."
They must have been referring to later in the child's life.
Ezra is difficult. Right now, my son is only a month old. He doesn't smile, he can't focus or look me in the eyes, and the only comfort he appears to exhibit is when eating or sleeping. He cries, he doesn't sleep at opportune times, he is often inconsolable. Being a dad is hard. It is frustrating. It is full of repeated feelings of ineffectualness.
I am told I will look back on these times in Ezra's life with fondness.
I doubt it.
At this point, I'm looking forward to a couple months from now, when (according to the many baby books and websites I have perused as of late) Ezra will begin to interact in a more positive fashion. Perhaps then my frustration will be tempered with a bit more joy.
Until then, I do my best to hug and kiss and sing to my son. I feed him when he's hungry and bathe him when he's dirty and change his diapers when he... well, you know....
I do love the little guy a lot. That's what keeps me going. That and my wife, who I love more than ever and who continually amazes me.