Posted tagged ‘bluffton’

Josh Branyan: Son, Brother, Friend, Husband… Father??

November 9, 2009

(I also considered this for the title of my boring autobiography or for my tombstone)

I’m writing the inaugural blog with a pretty important announcement, but I’ll get to that in a bit.  First off, I’d like to welcome all the readers1.  Welcome!  I’ve been thinking about starting a blog for a long time, but sadly, my life is somewhat uninteresting.  I have always been of the opinion that my initial blog should concern something completely life-changing and monumental2.  I mean, there are things in my life worth writing about.  I’m married which at times provides material that could be blog-worthy.  For instance, one evening, my wife, Julie, was craving tuna casserole.  She went out and bought all the ingredients, came home and cooked it, only to realize after it was done, she had forgotten to include the tuna.  She had cooked noodles and peas topped with breadcrumbs and parmesan cheese.  Yum.  Also, we live in Omaha, Nebraska, which could provide an endless comedic goldmine of jokes about cornhuskers.  I mean, come on.  It’s a funny word.  We have a dog, Murray, whose antics are often times hilarious.  But how many times have you heard a story about someone else’s pet that inevitably ends with the phrase, “I guess you had to be there”?  People often don’t realize that their pets are only interesting to them.  The same can be said of children as well.

I will no doubt eventually get to those topics.  But as I said, for this first blog, I wanted to talk about something huge.

So, here goes.  Concerning the title of this blog, I’m sure everyone is asking the same question.  “Why, Josh, did you put those words in that order?”  That’s what you were thinking, wasn’t it?  Well, quite obviously, they are in chronological order.  First, I was a son, then a brother, friend, husband and so on…“But Josh,” you’re thinking, “weren’t you both a son and a brother the instant you were born, since your brother is older than you?”  Ah, an excellent point, dear reader, but consider this.  With or without, my charming older brother Jamie, I still would have been a son.  Therefore, I believe that should come first.

(I’d like to take this time to thank everyone for wading through the first four hundred plus words in order to get to this, the actual crux of the blog.  Well done!  I hate to think how many I lost along the way.)

Perhaps there are those readers out there concerned only with the last word of the title of this blog.  I have for a long time put serious thought into the idea of becoming a father.  What would it mean to me?  What kind of father would I be?  Am I ready for that kind of responsibility?

What would it mean to me?  I have wanted to be a father since the moment I knew I would spend the rest of my life with Julie.  If you don’t know us, you’ll just have to take my word when I say, we are awesome.  The idea of the two of us putting our combined awesome into one human being is – let’s just say, I would feel sorry for everyone else in the world because no one would measure up.  That’s not arrogance, just a fact.  Look it up3.

What kind of father would I be?  In three words, probably pretty good.  I have a great set of examples to follow.  My own father, my brother, and a couple of my friends all have incredible fatherly qualities that I hope to incorporate.

Am I ready for that kind of responsibility?  You know, it’s funny.  This was the question that always scared me the most.  I think maybe I’m too young at 26.  But then I think about my friends who are all younger than me, but have kids.  Then I think about my brother who had his first little girl (Hi Maris!) at 30.  And I think about my dad who was 31 when Jamie was born.  And it makes me wonder if anyone, no matter what their age, is ever ready for that kind of responsibility.  I think it’s more of a “rise to the challenge” kind of situation.  Julie and I got a dog (the aforementioned Murray) at the end of August.  I know a dog is in no way an equal representation of the kind of responsibilities that come with having a child.  However, in these last two and a half months, I have come to a life-changing and monumental conclusion.  I am in no way whatsoever ready to have a child.

I love Murray.  He is a great dog, but his bark, while rare, is one of the most grating sounds I’ve ever heard.  He doesn’t know how to do anything.  It’s disgusting picking up his poop in a plastic bag.

I have no doubt that if I did have a child I would love him/her.  But I could not take the crying.  Dogs can walk when they are like two days old, why does it take a baby so freakin’ long to learn how to crawl?  I’m pretty sure if the baby gets too annoying I can’t just stick him/her in a cage and go out for a couple hours.  Seeing a movie in the theater is still too important.  And I’m sorry, but wiping someone else’s butt is still the grossest thing I can think of.  If this sounds immature, well, I guess that’s my point.  I am still way too immature for a kid, but at least I’m aware of it.  That’s something, right?

  1. This, of course, is an assumption that there is more than one reader.
  2. Every good tv pilot has the main characters go through a life-changing event.  Be it a plane crash on a mysterious island, regular people waking up one day with extraordinary powers, or a hot neighbor moving in next door.
  3. For reference, please reread this blog.

What did you think of the first blog?  If you have any positive comments, please feel free to leave them below.  If you have any negative comments, please email me at Thanks for reading.  Check back periodically.  I hope to write three per week, with one of the three pertaining to either a movie or tv show.  Exciting, eh?  Also, the aesthetic of this blog will improve over time.  For now, it’s boring.