One of the first pieces of furniture I bought is a big ottoman that sits in the middle of my living room near my big screen TV. For the first couple of months that I lived in my house, I imagined maybe some day my future wife would put our baby on the ottoman and I would get on my knees and just stare. I don’t know why, but every week or so, that was the thought. And now…in July, it will happen. My wife Leslie will put baby Andrew on the ottoman and daddy is going to play with him. On the other hand, I’ve always thought that it will tear me up when I’m not able to do certain things with my child…with Andrew. I was at a barbeque on Saturday and watched a friend of mine pick up his newborn. I’m trying not to let my negative emotion affect me, but how could it not? There has always been a dichotomy about what’s reality and what I see every day. I see a baby in their mother’s lap, I see a little girl getting ice cream with her dad, I hear fathers and sons talking about their upcoming camping trip. I try to keep positive, and when it comes down to it, I couldn’t possibly be more excited than I am.