Category: Being a Dad

Saying No and other Tragedies

It is a great displeasure saying “no” to my children. Especially when the matter concerns money. 
Whenever I do it (ie this am over Book Fair funds) and their face crumbles before my eyes I sense a betrayal of my youngest self who promised to NOT let my children go without wanting. I know I’m in the right. I know I have lessons to teach. I know the relativity of their pain. I know what they need or don’t need. I know I love them. None of that assuages the displeasure of issuing a warranted “no”. 
It has to get to get done though I hope giving a hearty hug on our way to school will ease our pain.

Give me a Break

My dad and I got on the 60 Freeway going east at about 5:00 pm one day. I was 16 and it was a driving lesson. Back then our family had an old Ford Econoline van and I was in charge of it’s 5,000 pounds. Traffic was light as I got on the road and I was having fun feeling the van taking speed as I pressed on the accelerator. I kept on looking down at the Speedometer, proudly conscious the effect of my pressing foot and how it then moved the needle. I was so mesmerized that I didn’t really see the red lights in front of me and the traffic that had begun to stall. Right under the 710 freeway my father yelled at me to stop and by luck I found the Brake. The van’s wheels screeched and I felt my dad’s hands at my chest. When we were stopped he looked at me for a while and then we had to move on. I didn’t drive again for a while and I can’t say I blame him.

Boy and his Dog

My boy fell ill. His little body aching and tears streaming down his cheek. We put him to bed because he needed to sleep. As I turned off the light to the bedroom and urged him to rest I noticed his dog sitting right next to him. He was looking at his kid and would not move. He laid there most the night. My kiddo is tough and is alright now and for the record his dog and I don’t always seem to see eye to eye. But he loves my tyke unconditionally and that’s all I need to know.

Morning Chores

My favorite part of the morning wasn’t waking up relatively late to the hot coffee she re-heated for us, or the sausages topped with syrup, the steaming mount of colorful hash-browns mixed with ketchup or the eggs scrambled at my plate. Nope my favorite part was watching my son’s face grimace while doing his chore and cleaning out the chickens’ coop. Him yelling out “nasty” was a highlight in every sense of the word.

Dad Stories – Death and Eggs

We had an unexpected talk about the meaning of death around the breakfast table this morning after listening to my kids telling silly scary stories that involved one another.
It’s challenging to hear your kids utter some words and as I heard them a twinge of pain fell over me. I stopped them and asked to talk.
We discussed the finality of death and what it means to loose someone close to our hearts. The dog we recently lost was brought up and that we would never see her again. This hit a nerve. A sad one.
I did not like to break up their imaginative silly talk with a serious conversation. But at that point my adventurers needed to know my feelings on the matter and how it was impacting me. 
It’s not easy this parenting gig and I can’t say I handled it perfectly but I think we all grew up a little over eggs and biscuits.