Nothing has perpetuated the idea that my children are inconvenient than my own writing. How many times have I told the kids "Go away, I'm writing now!" or "Stop shouting, daddy's writing!" Once, when Lucas wanted to play with me and I wanted to write, he got mad and jabbed his finger at me and said

You go downstairs, drink coffee, write!

We were still in Colorado then, so he couldn't have been older then four. That goes to show you how deeply entrenched this attitude is in my psyche. In my worst moments, I worry that my protective attitude toward my writing time will make my kids feel guilty for their existence—like they're perpetually in the way of me doing what I'd rather be doing. 

I should address that right now. Yeah, go play with them. Put down this computer and this sentence and these letters and show them what's important to me. But it's summer, and it's early, and they aren't awake yet.... Damn, I missed my chance. That's okay, though. So many things I've got to do. So many opportunities out there for me to pursue that will help me avoid the truth of how fatherhood has  

derailed

steamrolled

destroyed

irrevocably altered 

this thing I clung to and called my life, which doesn't belong to me anyway (and never did), and 

WHICH NEEDED TO BE ABOUT 

SOMETHING OTHER THAN 

WRITING ANYWAY

––a fact I never figured out until I started raising my kids and writing about how I've been messing up their minds. Without writing, I don't know how hard I would have stumbled against these truths. I probably would have cracked my head against them, rather than merely cracking my knees and shins. 

Writing is a kind of sonar in that way, too. Keeping the metaphorical ship of self from running into underwater obstacles that might sink it. Lucas and Landon––especially you, Landon, because of all this talk here in the labyrinth about your screaming days––I hope that all this writing about my challenges as a father will work as a kind of sonar for you, too. Instead of cracking my head, it has helped me crack my shins. Maybe, when you two go on the fatherhood adventure, this book will help you know better what's lurking beneath the surface of your family's life, so you'll merely stub your toes.