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I don't remember the exact date or exactly how old I was, but sometime in my mid-thirties all of the music on the radio began to have the same sound. It was as if static had married the banging of tin and the unmistakable whining of a five year old girl who just has to have a pony. I was annoyed, so I shut it off for a while and drove in silence.

Before I became a father, I had big plans. Most of us did. Even when the kids were little the plans stayed big. I was going to earn my Ph.D, I was going to work at a big university and I was going to become the chair of the English department. I was going to make higher education more appealing for those who are traditionally left out. I was going to write books of poetry and novels. I was going to write books about history. I was going to write curriculum. I was going to paint and draw to engage people's minds. I was going to change the world.

Then one day I realized that I was tired. I realized that wanting to do all of those things while trying to maintain a family is plain exhausting. So, for better or worse, I stopped wanting them and refocused on other things like reading a piece of the newspaper after the kiddos go to bed. I began seeing the wonderful opportunity to iron tomorrow's clothes somewhere between bath time and bed time. I took time to read books to my kids about baseball, farting dogs, and princesses.

Then I stopped worrying so much about those big dreams that didn't become reality, and noticed the big dreams that were a reality. My wife and kids love me. My dogs love me. The cat...well the cat wants me to feed him. Sometimes my students hate me, but sometimes they like me, too.

And I am changing the world, its yust happening a little different than I thought.