Dear E: Be A Man

Dear E,

It’s been a little while since I’ve written to you. We’ve all been busy, you and your mom and me, between work and going to the beach and playdates and all the other stuff that manages to occupy people’s time. We’ve been having a lot of fun together at the pool, playing catch and getting into tickle fights at home. And I can’t even begin to tell you how amazing it is to have a mini-dance party with you in the living room while Pharrell Williams’ “Happy” plays in the background. But there’s something more serious we have to talk about.

We have to talk about girls.  Continue reading “Dear E: Be A Man”

Story Time: Rangers-Islanders 1999

I originally started writing this post as a connection to E’s first baseball game but I got so involved in the story that it became its own post. I decided I enjoyed writing it so much that I would finish it and post it anyway, even though it was a long time ago and being a parent was one of the farthest things from my mind. I’ll post more memories occasionally under the “Story Time” title. If there are specific types of stories you’d like to hear from when I was younger, either stories that you were a part of or a type of story you’d like to read from my point of view, either send me an email at sleepingontheedgeblog@gmail.com or post on the blog’s Facebook page. Enjoy!


I was in middle school when I first started paying attention to professional hockey. My closest friend was a New York Islanders fan, so that’s the team that I first started following (I went back to my Chicago roots with the Blackhawks a few years later). The downside was that the Islanders were terrible and played in an awful arena (two facts which remain true today, unfortunately, although apparently they’re moving to Brooklyn). The upside, though, was that because they were terrible and played in an awful arena, their tickets were really cheap, which came in handy for a middle school student with no income. My friend and I went to a couple of games and my love for the sport was sealed.  Continue reading “Story Time: Rangers-Islanders 1999”

His First Game

This post would not have been possible without our friends, Daniel and Stephanie Rensing, and Stephanie’s father, Mr. Bob Jordan. We owe all of the memories of E’s first baseball game to you guys. Please take a minute to check out their amazing line of baking products at The Smart Baker.

Also, this post is part of the “Future Fanatics” campaign being run by Fanatics, the leading online retailer of everything sports. Fanatics is a one stop shop for everything sports, from your favorite team’s baseball hat to the Cubs jersey E will get when he’s older (and we don’t have to worry about him spilling food on it). Check out their site to see how other “Future Fanatics” are getting their start.


I don’t remember my first baseball game.

I went to four baseball games in person when I lived in Chicago: three to see the Cubs at Wrigley Field and one to see the White Sox at the “new” Comiskey Park.1 The truth is, I don’t remember much of any of them. I remember that Andre Dawson hit a home run at each of the Cubs games. I remember thinking that the Sox were cooler than the Cubs because their stadium had a jumbo-tron and Wrigley Field had that boring charming manual-operated scoreboard. I remember that at my third Cubs game, we sat next to the railing in foul territory on the first base side, the last three seats in the row between our section and the bleachers to my right. At that game, I remember furtively waving my hand every once in a while just in case a television camera was filming me without my realizing it. Continue reading “His First Game”

Thank You For Not Saying Thank You

Last night I was alone with E for most of the evening.

I usually work late on Thursdays. One of the families I visit doesn’t get home until after 5:00 and because of scheduling, I usually don’t get to them until 5:45 at the earliest. That means that I don’t usually leave before 6:30 or 6:45, which, in turn, means that I don’t get home until around 8:00. I get maybe a half hour to see E and most of that time involves bathing him and getting him ready for bed. I’m not looking for sympathy here; I’m just explaining how Thursdays usually go.  Continue reading “Thank You For Not Saying Thank You”

Peace: The Beach

It’s quiet.

Not silent, since I can hear the breeze making its way through the air, the faint sensation of salt tickling my nostrils, but quiet, nonetheless. The ocean laps at the shore, voicing soft greetings as it’s waves curl and shift from green to white before fading quickly into the sand. Some young children run into the water just in time for a larger wave to playfully test their resolve, sending most of them squealing back to steadier ground. The bright orange umbrellas whip softly in the wind but hold their posts like sentries protecting a town’s citizens.  Continue reading “Peace: The Beach”

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