I entered Gavin in a cutest baby contest.  I’m a little sheepish about this.  (SHAMELESS PLUG:  If you read Pregnancy & Newborn Magazine, you can vote for the Worm.) I never thought I would ever do such a thing.  I’m a man, for crying out loud!  (Which is something men don’t do, by the way.) So, why would I even think to do this?

I know every mother thinks their kid is the most beautiful thing in the universe, but that’s hormones playing with a woman’s mind!  I’m not a woman and I don’t even have hormones!  (At times, Steph thinks that I barely even have a heart!)  What’s gotten into me?  Does spending too much time with a baby generate estrogens in a man?  (Why is my underwear suddenly more baggy in the front?)

Is my sanity in fatherhood spiraling out of control?  Is SAHD life making me soft?  (Am I growing man boobs?)

I feel like a different man.  Not quite a wo-man, but a more sensitive man…I guess I would say a Wham!-man.  I’m no longer a Bad Boy.  For certain, Last Christmas, I was a manly man.  (How many Wham! song references can I make?) Now, I’m a sopping, photo-taking, face-wiping, diaper-changing shadow of my former self.

Is this going to lead to professional photo shoots in Gavin’s future?  Yes.  Will I be his driver for his future road-trip beauty pageants all over America? Yes!

The ultimate question is….Will I teach him how to toss a baton?  Yes!

We’ll be kicking ass and taking names, my Little Miss Sunshine.  Toddlers and Tiaras?  Hell no, Toddlers and Testicles.

Look out for us on the baby beauty pageant circuit.  We’ll be in the old Land Cruiser.