Maybe You Shouldn’t Blog About Your Broken Penis

flight
She told me to sit down, climbed onto my lap the same way she had done when she was really little and then put her head on my shoulder.

I closed my eyes and listened to her breathe and for a moment she was a toddler again and not 11 going on 30.

She fell asleep in seconds and I wondered what kind of day she had been through. This is the girl who screamed at me that I shouldn’t treat her like a baby because she is almost a teenager.

I waited a few minutes to see if she would wake up and then she exhaled and I felt her whole body relax.

In the old days that was the sign that I could put her in her crib or bed and know she was done for the evening, but that girl didn’t have homework and this one did.

Not to mention that I had things I had to get done, so I did my best to stand up without waking her so that I could carry her to her room.

We made it halfway up the stairs before she woke up and told me to put her down.

“Why are you carrying me?”

“Because you fell asleep and I figured your bed was a better place to take a nap. It is easier for me to beat up the monsters when they come out of your closet or from under your bed.”

She gave me a smile followed by a full eye roll, “I can do that now daddy.”

“I know you can, but I am always here and I know how to listen.”

“I know.”

Maybe You Shouldn’t Blog About Your Broken Penis

In the good old days of the blog I could share stories like She Broke My Penis without any concern because the kids and their friends weren’t nose deep in electronics.

There wasn’t any concern about whether someone would Google someone else and come across material that could be embarrassing or used to embarrass but that was then and this is now.

You never worry about infants or toddlers sharing Too Much Information- The Girl in the Men’s Room because that is not part of the gig.

Back in those days you worried about making sure they didn’t choke on a carrot, run into the street or get lost in a store.

Now I look back on those years and smile because even though the kids required more hands on attention in some ways it was easier because they were always being watched by an adult.

There was always a grown up monitoring things and now there isn’t.

Now there are lots of moments where they are on their own and the concerns about what they are doing and who they are doing it with are different.

I know you can, but I am always here and I know how to listen.Click To Tweet

If you are among the 17 long time readers you know I am not an advocate of wrapping our children in bubble wrap and that I believe they need to learn how to fail.

You know I believe in giving them the tools and resources to do things for themselves and that my children have been taught to advocate for themselves.

But that doesn’t mean that I don’t worry about them or that I don’t make it clear that I am available to help them either.

The World Is Great But Sometimes Scary

One of the first things my grandfather said to me after my oldest was born is that you never stop worrying about your children.

You never stop watching and hoping that they continue to make smart choices and that nothing bad happens. He told me that it is not something you think about consciously because if you did you’d never be able to relax or go about your business.

It made sense to me then and it makes even more sense to me now.

I am good at not actively worrying about them or things because I know that statistically the really bad stuff is unlikely to happen.

But then shit happens and I wonder.

Someone I knew was murdered last week. He was shot to death in his apartment.

I don’t know many details and in some ways they don’t matter because the bottom line is his life was cut short because of something stupid.

I have been thinking about him and the stupid crap that comes up in life all week, like how horrified I was to realize that I can tell you about three different people I knew who were murdered.

Those people are separate from the list of people I know who died young from accidents and or terminal illnesses.

Is This Normal?

I often wonder if it is normal for someone like me to be able to list so many people who have died young in circumstances that would crassly be described as “shit happens.”

Maybe.

I am one of those people who has spent his life involved in groups and organizations. I know a lot of people so maybe that provides a large enough sample set to say that this is sad, but normal.

I really don’t know. I don’t have any data I can use to determine which way to roll with this one way or another.

All I am certain of is that it feels like a lot and that I feel badly that so many life stories were cut short.

I suppose all of this in total is part of why this isn’t just a dad blog anymore.

The Evolution Of A Blog

Call it the evolution of a blog and blogger. Everything changes and though there are things I miss about old fashioned blogging I enjoy and appreciate the places these changes have taken.

There is joy  in writing about what happens when the rhythm of life is disturbed just as there is joy in writing about the rhythm of life.

These days I like looking at what my stats show as being my most popular blog posts because I want to figure out why so many of them seem have been written several years ago.

Is it because my writing was better then or because I worked harder to market and promote the blog?

I don’t know.

I think that my writing has improved and that while some of those posts are pretty good I feel confident that there have been equally good or better written since then.

Blogging is a funny thing, you never know what is going to hit or what won’t.

*****

I always say that whatever age my children are is my favorite and I mean that. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t really enjoy listening to my little girl fall asleep on my shoulder again.

Simple times and simple pleasures.

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4 Comments

  1. The Imp September 19, 2015 at 4:13 am

    So very sweet. I totally understand, b/c I have a 16, 10, and almost 9 yo. And every now and then, the little person they once were peeks out, and I get to savour the bittersweet moment.

    I adore who they are, who they’re becoming, but there are times when yes, I miss the wee person who fit easily in my lap, who trusted that Mom and Dad had the answers, were the answers, and all would be well, because Mom and Dad would make it be.

    Now that they’re older, they’re more aware of just how little control Mom and Dad actually have over ‘shit happens’. They’re learning that sometimes, the best you can hope for is endurance.

    Was a lot easier, on all of us, when monsters in the closet were the biggest threats.

    • Jack Steiner September 19, 2015 at 3:13 pm

      Endurance is a gift, I really believe that. We know from experience that things will happen and that not all of them will be good, so if we can teach/show our kids how to keep going we give them something precious.

  2. Lisa René LeClair September 17, 2015 at 1:25 pm

    I think your seasoned voice is incredible. Evolution perfectly sums it up. We start off silly and writing about whatever, and we slowly learn how to write better. But a broken penis IS kind of funny. 😉

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