• past dadda posts

    May 2013
    M T W T F S S
    « May    
     12345
    6789101112
    13141516171819
    20212223242526
    2728293031  

Some Mother’s Day Thoughts

It’s May 2012 and yet another Mother’s Day approaches, a time when the world celebrates that one person who knows us best. She who has sacrificed everything to create new life. She who nurtures us, protects us, and gives us hope with a single breath.

MOM. I think of her every day. Not because I love her and wish her well, which, obviously, I do, but because I desperately need all of her accumulated motherly wisdom for the job at hand: raising our two daughters. Yes, I am the primary caregiver in our household. The stay-at-home dad, the maker of the home. Call me what you will (except Mr. Mom, of course – cringe cringe), the fact is that it is mostly me at home with the little ones every day, washing the dishes, folding the laundry, picking up toys, settling disputes, sweeping the halls, cooking meals, consoling them when sad little tears run down their cheeks, arranging play dates, shuttling them to school and dance class and the park and the grocery store. All of the responsibilities that I would normally associate with my own mother have somehow, inexplicably and undeniably, become my own. Is that the universe laughing heartily?

As a youngster, I had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up. I think if you had asked me I would have figured that I was destined for the office, shirt, tie and briefcase in hand. I can certainly say with confidence that the thought of becoming my own MOM never even remotely surfaced in my adolescent brain.

And so now, at the age of 45 and with 6 years of parenting under my belt, I look more and more at my mother in sheer AWE. As I scramble to organize our family photos and video, I marvel at her wonderfully handcrafted scrapbooks. As I sweat in the kitchen trying to come up with creative kid-friendly dishes, I think fondly of my mom’s assortment of yummy lasagne, quiche, and hot dish. And as I obsessively attempt to keep our house clean, where rooms can suddenly explode into great messy fireballs, I feel the need to honor my mother’s wonderful organizing skills. She made it all look so easy.

I keep trying to figure out when that moment occurred – when a simple, mid-western girl transformed into the most amazing person to ever walk this planet.

And what of all of the other moms in my life? All of them, family and friends, have each taught me such valuable parenting lessons. I have gained compassion by watching my sister, mother of three, struggle daily with her addictions. I understand dedication more clearly now thanks to my mother-in-law. I have seen such courage in the eyes of our family counselor. And my wife has given me such love and shown me what it means to be pure of heart. Sharing childbirth with her and watching as she has nurtured our two daughters with every fiber of her being has been the most incredible experience of my life.

As I fumble with ponytails and diapers, I often think of my mom and feel eternally grateful. It is because of her that I cherish parenting.

And so, Happy Mother’s Day everyone! One can only imagine what a better world this would be if MOM were in charge.

It’s The Little Things…

~We do not remember days, we remember moments.~
*Cesare Pavese*

They tell you it’s the little things in life that can make all the difference – a nice cup of tea, a daughter’s smile, a comfy chair.

I’m enjoying all of these moments in my life more and more now. Or maybe I’m just more aware of them.

They are each, on their own, such small and delicate gifts, so ephemeral and elusive.

They are taken for granted, often forgotten, and so easily lost, yet in our busy world they are what keep most of us sane.

An ice cold lemonade, a foot massage, a sunset. They are what we cling to when all around is dark.

In times like these, during our Great Recession, and amidst horrible natural disasters, I find myself thinking more and more about the little things in life, and how truly important they really are.

Of course, a Royal Wedding now and again is always nice, too.

I am reminded of one of my favorite scenes from The Lord of the Rings:

Frodo: I can’t do this, Sam.
Sam: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.
Frodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?
Sam: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo… and it’s worth fighting for.

The Fly

“I’m an insect who dreamt he was a man and loved it. But now the dream is over… and the insect is awake.”

I have a vague notion of what it was like before I married and had a family. But it’s blurry, and seems like so long ago. As in the 1986 version of The Fly, I have changed. Not into a fly, per se, although I do wonder about this sometimes when I see Juliet’s saliva dissolving just about everything it touches. We also communicate in clicks and clacks, and, come to think of it, she does have googly eyes.

But no, the change I talk about is much more subtle and not as physically dramatic. As I mention in another post, it’s as if I have stepped through a portal. There is the me before fatherhood, and the me now. This major shift in my psyche includes a loss of my sense of self. My identity is no longer defined by who I am, but who WE are, WE being my myself, my wife, and my two daughters. The family unit. We move as one, like some fantastic amoeba oozing its’ way across the great petri dish of life. Our movements are coordinated, our actions, even our thoughts, seem somehow connected, like some synchronous hive mind.

I should have seen this coming when I fell in love. For the first time in my life I felt a true sense of selflessness. It wasn’t just about me anymore, it was about us. We became “a couple”. We COMPROMISED.

And now, what affects one of us in the family affects us ALL. We huddle closely together for warmth, and sing in harmony. We are stretched when we separate. My mood can be directly linked  to my family at any given moment. It is something sacred and silly at the same time. We are the world.

This is a powerful feeling. I am no longer alone in life. I feel safe, secure, and confident, because I know, wherever I go, that I have a family to return to. I am part of a small community, part of something larger than myself.

At times I have wanted to run away from my family, my village, to shed the collective, like the theme from countless movies. I yearn for breathing room, to be alone for awhile, free and unencumbered. It is at these moments when I suddenly feel so naked and scared, as if I have just taken off a large, heavy wool coat in the middle of a snowy New York winter. Once cozy, warm, and ensconced, I am now independent and wild, and I scramble to remember how to act. I feel rusty and awkward. It is not the same feeling as before, back before family, when I was single. I wonder how I ever did it, how did I operate in the world all alone.

I have learned to cherish those brief, quiet moments, but more and more, nothing can compare to the joy and freedom I feel when I am with my family.

Irony

Maddie: Come on, dad, let’s play!

Me: Not now, Maddie, I’m working on my blog.

[rim shot]

Normally I’m a huge fan of irony*.

But not in this case.

I pride myself on being an engaged parent. But, to be honest, it’s been tough lately. Mainly because we have a 5-month old baby, Juliet, in the house now, and I’m also in job-search mode. So, this all equals less time for one very needy 4 1/2 year old, Madeleine Sue, who has been given all the time in the world up to now. Big changes are afoot, and we are all feeling the growing pains.

Admittedly, we have been extremely lucky. We have been able to live off the income of one parent while the other stays home, mostly, to raise our daughter. We have had family support, financially, emotionally, and physically. We have attended regular family counseling sessions. How anyone can live in the Bay Area without some from of support is beyond me.

But now I’m feeling some of the pressure that so many families feel…I need to find a job. Hence my stress and my quick replies to my daughter lately.

I have enjoyed the past 4 1/2 years tremendously. Now, this chapter in our lives is ending. It’s scary, and hard to let go, but I am excited about the future.

It’s important, now more than ever, to be aware of all those small moments in the day when my daughter seeks connection. She must know that I will still be there for her. To be her dad is, after all, the best job in the world.

*to help those of us who are irony-impaired, let me elaborate. Picture a dad working on his blog, who’s sole purpose it is to celebrate fatherhood with amusing and touching stories of engaging with your children, then mumbling something a la W.C.Fields -  “Get out of here, kid, you’re botherin’ me” – to his daughter, who is gently tugging on his shirt, like some poor little orphan girl. Now THAT’S irony, folks!

I’ve Been Kidz Bopped

“Hello. My name is David and my daughter likes…gulp…Kidz Bop.”

This is how I imagined myself, standing alone at the front of class, admitting this ugly truth to my peers, like some surreal AA meeting for bad parents.

It all started innocently enough with a sampler CD acquired by one Grandpa Bob from McDonald’s. Looking back, I guess I should have been suspicious right there. I mean, when I think of quality music, a fast food chain is not the first thing that springs to mind. Nor even the second.

So we play the CD in the car and Maddie really likes it. She laughs. “Play it again! Play it again!” OK. It’s fun and new and kind of catchy. Popular cover songs sung by anonymous teens with a chorus of kids. We cycle through the 5-song playlist a few times. It is around the third playing that I start to feel the hairs on the back of my neck actually bristle. My left eye twitches. It is an ill wind that cannot bode well.

It started out as a fun and fresh take on mediocre music. But it was all a clever marketing illusion. Now, every song sounds the same to me, relentlessly cheerful.

This whole experience wouldn’t have been so painful if Maddie’s favorite tune wasn’t Party Like A Rockstar. Yep. Totally dude.

I had heard this song on the radio once or twice before and had quickly changed the channel. I don’t like it. Nothing personal, mind you, just not my cup of tea.

Now, there I was, suddenly stuck in a really bad music video, cruising down the boulevard in our Toyota Camry at 10mph as Maddie is singing along in the back seat. “Louder, daddy!” she squeals. “Party like a rock star,” the Kidz Bop chorus chants through the car speakers, over and over. They seem to be everywhere. All we need now are hydraulic shocks so we can bust a move.

Over the next few weeks we check out more Kidz Bop CD’s from the library. I find their website and discover that they are up to #17. Wow. That’s more than the Friday the 13th sequels.

I hope that this is all just a passing phase for Maddie, much like Air Supply was for me.

One final note: Having said all that, they have an album called The Coolest Kidz Bop Christmas Ever! which is actually quite enjoyable…

Peace out.

The Perfect Father’s Day Gift

With Father’s Day fast approaching (Sunday, June 20th – how’s THAT for planning ahead!) check out the latest trailer from The Evolution of Dad, a new documentary coming out on Dad’s Day this year. Thanks to Rebel Dad for pointing this out.

Through The Looking Glass: Part III

alice_through_the_looking_glassI would jump in front of a speeding car to save my daughter’s life. I say this with no hesitation and with a really powerful conviction which surprises, and, frankly, scares the hell out of me. Where does this feeling come from? I experienced it from day one with Maddie, when I hardly knew her. To think, I would sacrifice my own life for that of a tiny little  stranger.

I knew when our daughter was born that I would be taking care of her a lot. I prepared as much as I could. I read all the books I could find, talked to other parents. I knew this would be a huge responsibility. This small creature would be completely dependent on me, for food, for shelter, for warmth, for moving about. Her life was, literally, in my hands.

What I didn’t consider, and what I slowly came to realize, was that MY LIFE was in HER hands as well. This was a two way street. While I was busy nurturing this baby and helping her develop into a little girl, she was doing the same for me, helping me evolve into the father I am today.  She has taught me patience, empathy, and honesty. My intentions have become much clearer, my resolve much stronger, my energy more focused. She keeps me grounded and present. She has helped define me as a person and shown me what I care for most deeply in life.

We are connected on so many different levels and we affect each others behavior. My view of the world has changed.

This is what has surprised and delighted me the most about becoming a parent.

And to think, she’s accomplished all this and she’s only 4…

Thanks to Rebel Dad!

You know you’ve made it as a Stay-At-Home Dad when your blog is listed over at Rebel Dad. Thanks Brian!

Through The Looking Glass: Part II

So I’ve stepped through the portal. I’ve been a parent now for 3 1/2 years, and I’m still alive to tell the tale.

It really doesn’t seem like that long ago. But then I blinked. And now, here we are, about to have another baby girl (Juliet: due 12/1).

When I became a parent, I changed.  Literally. Like Bruce Banner transforming into The Incredible Hulk. Only I didn’t grow into a green and bulky monster (which was my first wish). No, I have morphed into a mild mannered and caring father with amazing new parenting superpowers, like EMPATHY and PATIENCE. I have learned the art of just BEING THERE for my daughter, simply bearing witness to her struggles. It has been a difficult and painful journey of evolutionary change and  has stretched my emotional range beyond my imagination. As a parent I have felt SO sad at times, so frustrated, so dejected. I have also felt SO happy, so joyful and content.An Incredible Dad

When I first heard our baby girl cry I thought, “Awww, how cute.” followed closely by “OK, I’m out of here!” I could not take it. It was torture to be in the same room. I wanted to run as far away as possible. But as a stay-at-home dad, I did not have the luxury of just handing her back to mom. Mom was at work. My daughter needed me.

The crying no longer bothers me. I let it all flow over me while I remain present for her. I tell her everything will be ok, that I’m sorry she feels the way she does. I no longer scramble to make things “better” for her or try a quick fix by offering her a treat. We simply share the moment. And I wait. Because I know this too shall pass. Until the next time.

And now I wonder what new super powers await as I become a parent of two…

The Daddy Shift

The Daddy Shift

The Daddy Shift

Oooooh, a new book on Stay-At-Home Dads!

This one has been making the rounds lately. I’ve seen it mentioned in various media, including Rebel Dad, The Chronicle, and now on Childhood Matters, where I signed up and will be participating in their on-air discussion set for Sunday, August 16th! Stay tuned!

It seems that Jeremy Adam Smith has written a smart, down to earth tale of families and has explored how the father’s role has evolved (especially in the Bay Area!), from bread winner to primary caregiver, and explains how the concept of “shared parenting” is now becoming the norm.

Which reminds me of another article from the NY Times.

Looking forward to a good read.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.