Archives for 2014

Perhaps the worst part of parenting is watching your children learn that some people are not nice, kind, compassionate or worth giving a damn about.

But the problem is that your nice, kind and compassionate child may not have the thick skin they need to deal with the rude awakening that someone they thought could be a friend is a Certified Professional Schmuck who is working on obtaining an advanced degree in becoming an asshole.

Sometimes I think about confronting these children and telling them in no uncertain terms who they are, where they are going and how poorly they are going to do in life but that presents numerous problems.

It doesn’t help my children learn how to deal with the fools, jerks and schmucks of the world and it is a good way to get yourself in trouble. Though I have always been an expert at dealing with the chaos and confusion that life sometimes presents I see no upside in tackling this particular challenge.

Which is my way of saying that the middle school monstrosity that is created by hormones, confusion and kids who fit the C.P.S. bill hasn’t gone away yet. Can’t say for certain if it is teasing or bullying but the lines are blurry enough to cause some concern.

It presents a different sort of guilt than mentioned here.

If Your Son Wasn’t A Jerk

Sometimes I picture talking to parents and explaining why their son got their ass kicked and their ego savaged because when you mess with my kid that is where my head goes.

I am a Taurus and though there is much Ferdinand in me there is a lot of nasty too. I ignore a lot but I haven’t always been like this. I got messed with too except in those days they expected you to fight or take it.

I didn’t take it…for very long.

When Steiner the minor talks about these things I listen carefully and try to figure out what is real and what is taken too seriously. I am not the father that believes my kid is perfect but then again I am someone who believes perfection is found in imperfection.

It is possible that some of what is going on has to do with his own growing pains. Sometimes he tells me he doesn’t have any good skills and I just want to scream because he can’t see yet how many he has nor does he recognize that some of the ones he thinks are key are going to be useless.

Chances are the great athletes in school won’t be able to use those skills for much and the cool kids won’t always be the ones that people flock to nor will many care.

But the difference between what we have experienced in our lives is vast, it is a chasm that can’t be crossed just by desire.

I wonder about how much to tell him about my own experiences as a kid and as an adult because trying to identify what will really help and what won’t is hard.

There is no real purpose in telling him about punching Tommy in the mouth or wrestling with Jimmy because I was done listening. It is not how he handles things and these days they frown upon that.

So I do my best to walk a line where I share nuggets that I think will help. I do my best to give honest feedback that will help prepare and not crush him.

This Is Harder Than When He Was Little

I don’t want to sound like one of the know-it-alls who used to tell me to enjoy parenting an infant because they said it was so much easier to be sleep deprived than to deal with teens, but it is true.

Bigger kids come with bigger problems.

We are starting to hear/see about the kids who are sniffing, smoking and drinking stuff they shouldn’t be into. Starting to hear about the kids who have figured out that touching each other can be lots of fun and dealing with all that comes with it.

These moments are harder.

I remember telling my little guy not to stick a button in his mouth or to drink from a bottle because I knew there was something wrong with it. Now I am fighting against other children who say other things and insist that adults don’t know as much as they claim. Some of that is true, but not about this stuff.

For the moment sex, drugs and alcohol seem to be less of a problem because he swears he is not interested in girls and he yells at me if he sees me drink more than one beer.

But that is not going to last. He may stay away from the drugs (I sure hope he does) but sooner or later he’ll find girls far more interesting than he does now and who knows what kind of chaos that will lead to.

For now I’ll focus on trying to help him deal with the other crud that has come to visit but between you and me I confess that I still want to go yell at these other kids.

I won’t do it, but I want to.

Sometimes I imagine I am fighting pirates, it is me against a dozen of them and I never know if I am one too. I just know I am the good guy and that I win because I fight harder than they do.

It helps that I am stronger and that I know how to cut down chandeliers that fall on them or can use a rope to swing across the ship and knock some of them down.

Probably helps more that it is my dream so I am in control of what goes on inside it.

I spend more than just a few moments living inside the world inside my head. I imagine it comes with being a writer but I really don’t know because I have only been inside my own.

Sometimes I tell the Shmata Queen I have been inside her head and suggest she organize things a little bit. That doesn’t always go over well nor does it always go over poorly.

The Senseless & The Silly

My daughter tells me she knows about true love. She says she knows it is when you never fight and you never grow tired of looking at whomever you are in love with.

I smile and ask her if she has ever seen her grandparents argue and she tells me she has seen them do it more than once. I tell her that both sets are on the verge of celebrating fifty years and she admits that her definition might not be perfect yet but insists it is close.

She makes me smile and I have to laugh because she is adept at trying to adjust her arguments to the conditions she finds herself in. It reminds me of what I do and since I consider it an endearing trait she can have it too. Hopefully others will agree, but it doesn’t matter if they don’t because we’ll just find people will better taste and sense. 🙂

Three large cups of coffee into the day and I am finally awake, don’t know why but Saturday morning soccer games seem to wear me out. Something about waking up at 6 and getting to the field at 7:30 on a weekend just sucks it out of me, don’t know why but it does.

We are talking about her game and how she played and she asks me why my smile is so big. I can’t explain to her what a pleasure it is to watch her and her brother play in a way that she’ll understand.

And I really can’t tell her I find it funny to compare how she and him tell their stories. She won’t understand I am not comparing them in a bad way nor will she appreciate that I see it as representative of gender differences.

She’ll give me so many little details about things that happened, especially about what the girls on her team and the other said or did and he won’t.

There is nothing wrong with that but it reminds me of some of the stories she tells me about what is going on at school. I don’t always follow everything that happens. Her mother gets it in ways I just don’t.

When my son Steiner the minor tells a tale I follow because it is the male version and it just makes sense to me. I understand the connections but sometimes the comments about looks and how girls interpret them just throws me.

Last week I asked her if the dirty look she got from someone else was caused because the other girl had gas and I got a full eye roll and a the female look of death. I wasn’t trying to be difficult, I was just being honest.

I’ll Make His Teeth Rattle

My girl looks at me and asks me what I would do in her position. It is in reference to some of her teammates actions. I tell her I would ignore them and play harder.

She asks me if that works for me and I say most of the time it has. I tell her that if you play hard your teammates will notice and respond. I don’t tell her it hasn’t always worked because that opens another can of worms.

But I mention sometimes life is unfair and you just deal with whatever comes your way.

True love comes back up and she asks me if I have ever really, really, really, really loved someone. I tell her she has forgotten five ‘reallys’ and that she should  two ‘verys’ and go silent.

She asks why I am quiet and I tell her I wasn’t sure if she was done. She says no, she tells me she wants to know if I loved someone so much it hurt and I ask her what prompted the question.

A couple of giggles come from her and she tells me she is going to have a boyfriend and true love. I smile and tell her he is going to learn that sometimes love hurts and she asks how.

I tell her I am going to shake him so hard his teeth rattle.

She laughs and tells me I am not allowed to hurt her boyfriends. I tell her that she is too young to worry about boyfriends now and that this is a time for having fun.

She laughs again, “Daddy, you are ridiculous. I don’t want a boyfriend now, I am only ten. But sometimes girls like to think about these things.”

When I ask her what other stuff girls like to think about she tells me that if I don’t understand women now I never will. Somewhere in the back of my head I start thinking about strangling a Disney executive or whomever on television filled her head with this idea.

Her iPod goes off and I watch as she starts to Facetime with her best friend. Seconds ago I was important, now I am forgotten.

Time Moves Too Quickly

I watch her walk towards her room and picture a slightly taller and older version of herself. The gestures will be the same and in many ways so will the conversation.

I am not ready for that day and don’t feel like dealing with the household chores yet so I lean back in my chair and close my eyes.

Two pirates are about to discover this is not going to their day…