BOOK REVIEW: Dad Brain by Darby Saxbe

I am so excited to read and review my internet friend Darby Saxbe’s new book—Dad Brain—which I pre-ordered a longtime ago, and now it’s finally here! As a father to two young children, I barely have any time or energy to wash the dishes, let alone read books or write reviews, so what I figured I’d do is write the review as I read the book. That way, you can see your favorite funny Substack dad’s reaction to this scientific exploration of what’s happening in my brain as I juggle…

Wait, hold on. My oldest is yelling from the bathroom. Apparently he’s “scared” to wipe his own butt all of a sudden. Here, enjoy this appropriately-placed photo of the book while I go do that real quick.

OK! I’m back. He somehow managed to smear poop all over the toilet seat. Not sure how, to be honest. As I think about the logistics of what could have led to those smears, I can only imagine hands being involved, but we’ll leave it at that. Anyway…

Dad Brain is a book about how fatherhood changes men’s bodies, brains, hormones, and sense of purpose. Darby is a leading psychologist in this field, so if anyone knows their stuff on this topic, it’s her. In Chapter 1 on what makes a good dad…

I’m so sorry, my boss is pinging me on Teams, I’ve got to hop on a quick call with him. I promise, I’ll be right back…

Alright! Successfully survived yet another round of layoffs at work, so that’s good. Unfortunately I’ve got to go run and pick up the kids right now, so I’ll have to leave it here, but I’ll be back again tomorrow to continue!

The day after tomorrow, but who’s counting, right? Daycare called yesterday because the youngest fell and hit his head on a mantlepiece and developed a “concerning” bump, so I had to run him to urgent care. It took forty-five minutes for us to get into the room, another fifteen for the nurse to come in, another twenty for the doctor to show up, only for her to look at me like I’m crazy for bringing him in for this. No, I am not a first time parent. I promise I wouldn’t be here if daycare didn’t insist on a doctor’s note.

Anyway, I am committed to this review and I promise I won’t let anything distr

It is 9:37pm on Saturday. So what happened was that the oldest brought home… I don’t know, something, right? So we all got it. Kind of been out of commission for a couple days here, if you know what I mean. Had to wait until the kids went to bed to open the laptop and knock this out, but of course one of them was inconsolably howling the entire time he was supposed to be falling asleep and the other one was “not tired,” probably because it’s still light outside even though I’m about to fall asleep on the keyboard.

So what Darby’s book is really about is tyyyghgdjf

I left that last part because I thought it was funny. My forehead landed right in the middle of the keyboard and I woke up half an hour later with terrible neck pain and a rectangular impression on my face.

It is 4:30am on Monday. I figured I’d wake up early before the early riser kid even decides to start squeaking so that I could do this. You know, what no one tells you about becoming a dad is—you know what? No, I need to focus on the book. This is about the book.

OK, so the book. It’s Darby Saxbe’s Dad Brain and, assuming I’ve been reading her Substack—Natal Gazing—correctly, it’s about how dads have no brains, or something. I sure feel that way sometimes. Seriously, though; she does a great job of balancing science and humor and a sincere respect for men, which is a tough act on the internet, where people are famously willing to approach difficult subjects with grace and maturity.

What I like most about the book so far is GODDAMMIT. How is he up?! How?! It’s forty-five minutes earlier than he wakes up every day! Scream. Scream, I don’t even care. I don’t even care anymore. I can’t get five minutes to myself, can I? I don’t care, keep screaming. I have coffee, I’m fine.

Darby Saxbe Buddy, I can’t do this. I’m so sorry, but I just… I can’t read books anymore. Is there a part in this book that tells me when I’m going to be able to read books again? If there is, I wouldn’t know. Look, I am absolutely certain that your book is great. Truly, I am. Like, I want everyone to buy the book and I want to support you, but I literally don’t remember the last time I read an article in full. It’s just skimming the whole time. I’m just glancing at 10% of the words in every paragraph to kind of absorb the message before moving on. I don’t even know what’s going on in the world. The mailman could’ve been replaced by a horse and I wouldn’t have noticed.