Book review #2

Book review #2

August 24, 2010 

If you’ve been following this blog from the beginning, you may have been wondering what happened to my book reviews. Yes, I realize the last one I did was my review of Father to Daughter by Harry H. Harrison, Jr. back in January 2009, aptly titled “Book Review #1.” I’ve read a lot of books since then, but you haven’t heard about them here. Why? Because I haven’t found another dad book worthy of taking up the valuable storytime real estate on this website (specially reserved for my daughter, of course).

Books come and books go. But once in a while, we discover one that sticks. One that touches our hearts and minds. One that we feel compelled to SHARE with our friends and relatives. I recently discovered such a book. 

Broken down into short, memorable and lively (almost poetic) stories, Stefan G. Lanfer’s The Faith of a Child: And Other Stories of Becoming and Being Dad is a must-have item for every dad’s and soon-to-be-dad’s home library. 

First, check out his creative YouTube video: Getting Ready To Be A Dad? Freaked Out? 

Then, get a copy of his book! Follow the timeline of Stefan’s journey to and through fatherhood and find yourself inspired by his ability to tell a story with which a diverse audience can relate. 

Here are two of my favorite stories contained in the book. They are entitled, JUST HERE and WHILE THEY SLEEP:

JUST HERE

While on the Atlanta leg of our Christmas tour, Grande, Ashley, and I decided to walk James to a nearby park and playground. Getting there took passing through Yonah Park, which in my mind, was there mainly for the passing through. We had a destination! Yonah Park has no slides, no swings, no jungle gyms. It has nothing at all but leaf-covered hills and sticks and shrubs, and mud and muck that made James happy as a clam. While Ashley and Grande wandered ahead, talking and walking their way to our destination, I hung back with James, and was struck by the idea that he had no idea about this other destination where we were all hooked on getting him to. He didn’t know how near it was, how far it was, or that it was at all. And clearly, he didn’t care. He was just here, just now. And why should he, and why should I, and why should anyone worry for any other where, when here is too amazing, too surprising, too wonderful to pass over?

WHILE THEY SLEEP

Every day, at day’s end, when Maya and James are both long asleep, after dinner, and baths, and stories, and prayers, and songs, after kisses they are too tired to wipe off, after, I-love-yous they are too zonked or already sleeping to hear, hours later, after Ashley and I have reconnected, or have tired of other distractions, we climb the steps towards bed ourselves. But before we slip under our covers, she or I will creep into Jamesy’s room (and I or she into Maya’s), and listen to them breathing, and sometimes snoring, and wait until our eyes have adjusted to the dark, to see which way they have wriggled out from under their covers, which we pull back up high again. When we do, sometimes they startle and stir. But they rarely ever wake. Assured that they are snug and warm, I usually linger a moment, watching them sleeping so peacefully, and I think, one day he or she may read this and picture this scene as I paint it — because I know they are still too young (and usually too asleep) for the actual memory of it to stick. Sometimes, this nightly scene gets me thinking of my own parents. Even though I don’t know if this was their routine exactly, when I was the little boy asleep in my crib. The exacts don’t really matter. As I stand there in the dark, watching my sleeping boy, or sleeping girl, simply the idea of my parents’ countless unnoticed, unheralded, unremembered acts of service to me, fills me with wonder. I wonder at time and its passing. I wonder at how life repeats itself (and how it doesn’t) generation, after generation, after generation. And I wonder at the love that I feel at these moments, a love that is almost unbearable, as I, here and now, look on them, just as they, there and then, looked at me.

To order your own copy of The Faith of a Child, visit Stefan’s dad blog at dadtoday.com or click this link to go directly to the book’s website and read some reviews: http://dadtoday.blogspot.com/p/book.html.

You can also order a copy for yourself (or as a gift for a soon-to-be-dad) at Amazon.com or Lulu.com. It is even available as an e-book! 

Last but not least, be sure to connect with Stefan on Twitter (@stefanlanfer) and become a fan on Facebook. [And remember to tell him how you found out about his masterpiece.]

 *The legal stuff: I did not receive any money for writing this blog post. However, he did mail me a free signed copy of his book after I connected with him through social networking. Thanks, Stefan!

Tags: advice for dads, dad blogs, dad books, fatherhood books, parenting books, recommended reading for new dads, stefan lanfer, the faith of a child