It’s fitting that this blog begins on Father’s Day.

For years, the holiday was something which I wished to others—my own father, my granddads, friends who had kids, etc. But this year, with the birth of baby L last month, I am for the first time a father myself.

In theory, fatherhood is awesome in the truest sense of the word. Peering over the bassinette, I watching L’s tiny stomach rise and fall (when did we grownups lose that diaphragmatic breathing, by the way?), I can’t help but shake my head at the notion that Powergirl and I actually created that little thing.

“A gift,” says one card. “A privilege,” says another. These also are apt descriptions (though a little too overwrought for my tastes).

And when I look into that crystal ball, when I fast forward to a year or two from now and L can cry for Daddy in the middle of the night and begs me to take her on hikes and whale-watches and things like that, I’m sure being a father will mean even more.

Now, however, I must admit that this whole Daddy thing is a lot of busywork.

I change diapers. I lift the car seat because Powergirl’s back hasn’t quite healed from delivery. I cook. I clean. I do laundry.

It’s not like I can do much more—milk doesn’t “come in” to a man-breast. So I justify the monotony of these things by convincing myself that for the next few months while L receives all of her nourishment from her Momma, she needs Powergirl to be nourished and rested and strong.

Still, there are moments where these chores seem like just that: chores.

If we were to base each Father’s Day on the accomplishments of our fathers from the previous year, for 2009 I’d award myself with a DNP—an acronym used in NBA box scores to describe those players who Did Not Play. Other than loving this little girl unconditionally, I don’t really feel like much of a Dad yet at all.

I know this will change. I know that as L grows and develops from newborn to toddler, so too will the role of Daddy become broader, more significant, more complex. During these first few months, I guess, it’s all about the little things. For now, for her, they will have to suffice.