Welcome to the club.
It's a wild club. A proud club. A slightly chaotic club.
A club for Pappas running on too little sleep, too much coffee and more love than they ever knew they had in them.
We change diapers. We warm bottles. We carry sleeping kids upstairs while holding our breath. We wipe away tears, milk, drool, poop and things we honestly prefer not to identify.
Sometimes we know exactly what we're doing. Most of the time, we're figuring it out as we go.
And that's kind of the point.
Being a Pappa isn't about having all the answers. It's about being there. At 3 in the morning. At the playground. At daycare drop off. During the tantrum in the supermarket. For the first steps, the bad nights, the belly laughs and all the tiny moments nobody warned you would mean the world to you.
We show up. Again and again.
Not perfectly. But completely.
There are millions of us doing the same thing. Learning on the job. Getting it wrong, getting it right. Calling our own dads for advice. Googling things we probably should already know. Looking at another Pappa across the playground and instantly understanding exactly what kind of night he had.
You are part of something bigger.
Something chaotic, exhausting, hilarious, frustrating and unbelievably beautiful.
A club that has existed for generations, but somehow still feels brand new the moment you join it.
So wear it proudly.
The stains. The bags under your eyes. The title.
Pappa.
Welcome to the club.
Welcome to Latte Pappa.