Questioning an Involved Parent

Lets just get this over with.


I'm a dad.

I'm involved with my kids.

I encourage them to be active, eat well, be polite, go to school, ride their bikes.

Sometimes, I even put two or three of those things together.

So imagine my surprise when I get a call from my son's speech therapist saying the school doesn't want me riding my bike to school with my son, because I might be a predator or my son could get hit by a car in the parking lot.

What?

Go ahead, if you haven't already, read that again. I'll wait.

Best Friends

Recently, through a conference with his speech therapist, I found out my son likes me. I had a pretty good idea beforehand, but when his "teacher" relayed a conversation they had in which he said "I know my dad so well, it's like we're best friends!" I knew for certain. And why shouldn't he? After all, I'm his primary caregiver in the morning. I ride bikes and play ball with him. I cut his sandwiches in special shapes on occasion. I have even been spotted wearing a cape as we zoom around our little cul-de-sac saving the city from vicious invaders. So, I'm glad he likes me.

But this can't last.

I want to be his friend until the end of my days, but I know that the days of being his best friend are numbered. He will get older. He will make friends at school who know all the names of the Skylanders characters. He will listen to whatever hipster music men of my generation just don't get. He will have a camp out with his buddies from boy scouts. He will have a first crush, a first love and a first kiss. And somewhere along the way, he will have moved on from me.

But I hope he knows me even better by that point. I need him to know not only what I like, but what I don't like. Its my job to make sure he knows how I trust him, what I expect of him, where to make a stand. (This goes for my daughter as well.) My job as parent is to prepare them for life. That doesn't happen as their best friend. That comes by teaching life skills so that when they no longer count me as their best friend, they can handle the new relationships they build and feel confident making their own decisions. If I do my job, I can trust them with those new relationships, and they can have the freedom every child wants. While I know they most likely will not tell me everything as they get older. I want them to know by the relationship I build with them that they can.

And so, in the time I have left as my son's best friend, I will continue to build Lego cities with him, and talk about death when it is needed, and point out when I see things that disappoint me. I will teach him how to build a sandbox and how to treat a girl and how to spike his hair just right. For my daughter, I will show her what to expect in a gentleman when *gulp* she begins to date. I will listen as she sings me songs or reads a story she wrote herself. I will encourage her to be strong and confident in herself and I will teach her modesty in her dress. I will wear a crown as we have high tea, and I will listen whenever she wants to talk.


I am their best friend, and I am their Dad, and while I will forever be their Dad, my time as their best friend is limited, so I will make the most of the time they give me.

Stuff My Kids Say III

"I'm never going to have babies. I'm going to adopt. I don't want to have a baby come out of here, or for the doctor to cut me open and rip it out of me."
          - Nat, 8 years


What dad isn't thrilled to hear his daughter say she won't be having kids. But its really the end of the statement that perked my ears this time. "Rip it out of me." It seems Kate and I may have talked about her deliveries a little too candidly in front of the kids.

I promise though, Leatherface does not perform c-sections.

Stuff My Kids Say II

"Girls have girl babies. Boys have boy babies."
          - Godzilla, 4 years

Thank God we were not created this way. I have the utmost respect for women in general, and the childbearing process in particular, but I never want the responsibility of childbirth. What pregnant mom hasn't muttered the words "you try carrying this thing around inside you for nine months"? We've all seen men try on the prego-bellies and recently through the magic of the internet, we were able to see two dutch men hook themselves up to electrodes to "experience labor".



 I have a feeling, if men were tasked with carrying babies, we as a species would have died out long long ago. Between the cravings, the cramping, and the hormone changes, I know I want no part of it. But that doesn't mean we don't have our roll to play. Men should be there for their children, and that means being there for their children's mothers from the beginning. We should help pregnant mothers through the difficult times of ther pregnancy. We need to be willing to run across town for that highly specific and wildly irrational craving. We need to know how to give a back rub, or a foot rub or whatever other rub she needs.

Amazingly enough, it can't stop there. Dads need to help their kids through their mom's pregnancy as well. It can be a terribly confusing time for young children who, up until this time only knew their family one way. Whether they ask them or not, your kids have questions about pregnancy and about having a sibling and about what that new baby will mean to their relationship with you.

Your family needs a whole lot from "Dad" and this usually means "Dad" will get less sleep, less leasure time, less social activities and an increased dependance on caffeine. Thank God we don't also grow people!

The Morning Rush, or Why I Need Coffee

I'm not going to sit here and tell you what a great dad I am in the morning. I won't even try to convince you that I really want to run the gauntlet of alarm, clothes, breakfast, backpacks and carpool. I'm not a morning person. In fact, when I was young and in school, I was notorious for sleeping in and being exceptionally grumpy when I finally did get up.

So, what keeps me going now? I'd love to say its my dedication to taking care of my beautiful kids. I'd even be ok if it were the knowledge that I was helping them grow in some amazing way.

No. Its the coffee.

I have to brew a full pot most days. Only after a couple of cups am I patient and helpful with the midgets who run my house.

-Before coffee: "no you can't play outside today, it's raining"

-After coffee: "Play outside? In the rain? Sure, lets throw on some rainboots and go jump in puddles!"

- Before coffee: "I DONT CARE WHO STARTED IT, STOP YELLING AT YOUR BROTHER OR YOU'RE GOING TO BED FOR THE REST OF THE DAY!"

- After coffee: " Whats going on guys? He took your Barbie and threw it at you? What? Only after she took your lightsaber and hit you with it? Lets have icecream and forget all about it."

- Before coffee: "Here, watch TV and be quiet, Daddy's going to go take a nap"

- After coffee: "TV off guys, we've got stuff to do! First, help me fix the electrical outlet the dog just broke, then I'll teach you about accoustics with a fun DIY soundsystem for your iPod!"

Looking at this track-record, you'd think they'd learn to start making my coffee for me before I get up...

Cheap Labor

What do you do when you're on a budget and your clothes dryer breaks down?

Hire the cheepest labor you can get.

Amazingly, he seemed to know what he was doing. I think that thing he's using here is a multimeter. He was mumbling something about checking resistivity in ohms.

I think he ripped me off on parts expenses, but I couldn't beat the labor costs.

He insisted on documenting the whole process though. You think I should start worrying about OSHA getting involved?

Who Doesn't Love Bubbles?

     So its a nice spring day, yes a little chilly, but get off my back, I said it was a spring day. Anyway, we have two flowering bushes on the side of our house, and one cold day a few weeks ago, we trimmed some branches off of one of them. Being the busy (re: distracted) people we are, we left them in a pile on the side of the house. Of course they have been bugging me since, but I hadn't gotten out to bundle them for the curbside pickup yet. So, today around noon, I headed out to take care of them, and the kids naturally follow me right out. It didn't take long and so when done, they wanted to play. Godzilla went for his bike and Nat grabbed the bubble wand the Easter Bunny brought for her.

     The nice thing about bubbles is that they captivate anyone who dares pick up a wand. The bad thing; the bubble solution never lasts long enough. Thankfully, its easy enough to make though. A little dish soap and some water and you're off and blowing again. The other amazing thing about bubbles is that they can never be too big.

     Enter dad.

     A rolled up sheet of paper, a little Tupperware® and fresh bubble solution and the kids are back at it. I love encouraging them to think outside the box. To find new ways to look at things. To solve problems they may find around any corner. With the paper, they can get a bigger bubble, just by forcing less air through a bigger wand. Of course, Dad likes to overdo it a little as well. Don't tell anyone, but it may be my fatal flaw. Once I had them going with their bubble horns, I set to work improvising a giant wand (you know, one of those two sticks with a looped string between them thing).

     The giant wand worked well enough, but it was a little too windy to get really good sized bubbles that wouldn't pop right away. However, the point of it was to introduce a new idea, to challenge the standard and see just how much better we could make it on our own. Judging by their smiles and laughs, I'd say mission accomplished.

Stuff my kids say

As parents, we hear lots of sounds coming from little mouths. Like the old Art Linkletter show "Kids Say the Darndest Things", sometimes the sounds we hear are worth documenting, and sometimes those sounds require the control of a Royal Palace guard to keep from cracking up right in their faces.

The other morning, after running my morning routine of getting Natalie up and out the door for school after only 5 hours sleep myself, Godzilla turns to me and asks "Why are you always so lazy?" Let me tell you, the fire that burned in my eyes when he said it must have been evident, but I had to control myself. Obviously he doesn't see the work I do. Sacrificing sleep, feeding, clothing, cleaning, repairing, entertaining, teaching, ferrying, etc. and perhaps, the problem with his perception of what I do lies in how I present it to him.

As I've said, sometimes they teach us a thing or two.

I took the time that day to show him what I fill my day with, and included him in a lot of it. It took most of the day for him to stop accusing me of being lazy, but every day since, we've experienced a little less lazy, and a little more conversation. A little more interaction, and a little more cooperation.