"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." Groucho Marx
This isn’t the first time that I have shared this video but it is worth doing so again for a host of reasons.  What I see in this video is what the Olympic Spirit is about. It is the willingness to push through pain and to try and do something extraordinary because it is The Olympics and not because you are getting paid to do it.
And as a father I cannot help but identify with the dad in this. I would do the same for my children without question.
Charles Barkley was right when he said that parents should be role models. I like Chuck and it is not because he dunked on Godzilla, but because some people need to be reminded that parents have responsibilities and obligations to our children. It is our job to teach our kids how to become productive members of society. My kids know that even if I was a billionaire I would still expect them to go to school and get a job. They need the education that comes from both sides of the fence. They need to understand the importance of a good education and what it means to get their hands dirty.
That is literal, the dirty part I mean. I want them to understand the difference between actual labor and sitting behind a desk. But in regard to this post that is neither here nor there. The real point is that I am struggling with something today.
The fine people at Klout have provided me with a perk– unlimited access to the Pac-10 Tournament. It is very cool. I have great seats to go watch the tournament. Later today I am going to grab my son and head out to go watch a game or two. So you may be wondering why I am struggling with this at all. Free tickets, great seats, father/son time- sounds perfect. Well, I have to pull him early from soccer practice and that bothers me a bit.
It bothers me because I stress the importance of being a team player and how that means that you show up for practice every time. It feels a bit hypocritical to talk about being a team player and then pull him early. I suppose that it would be different if there something that happened on a regular basis, but…
It is long past time to write about why mothers are overrated. The post where we point out that you are all crazy women who send your children to school with mismatched clothes, hair that hasn’t been brushed, runny noses and lunches that aren’t the epitome of health.
Yep, ladies I have your number. You who scream at your children to move because you are going to be late to school, who swore that you would never turn into your mother but are now her clone, I see you. I see your minivans come flying down the street and remember the girl who wouldn’t leave her house without looking just so.
You swore that you would be different and that you wouldn’t be that mom. You vowed to be better because you would plan better, care more and be smarter about it all. I am sure that you didn’t mean to be smug about it because you are caring women.
Women who knew that you could do it all because you always had. Certain that you would find a way to lose the baby weight quickly and that you would never lose that spark with your husband. Sure, you knew that there would be some changes and that it might affect you but thanks to your girlfriends and mothers you were one step ahead of the game.
And yet it didn’t quite work out that way. Things just didn’t fall into place and now the secret is out. You aren’t the mother you want to be and everyone knows it. It is obvious. Just look around and you see the other ladies who are better at it.
Their hair is still the same color as it was when they were in college and they can wear whatever clothes they want. Their cars aren’t filled with empty food wrappers, toys, sticky spots and all sorts of assorted junk. Face it, this is just more proof.
You don’t hear fathers complaining about these things. You don’t see us worrying about skinny jeans, lunches or home cooked meals. We don’t look at the other dads and complain how unfair it is that they still have a perfect ass or bitch about why they don’t deserve whatever it is they have.
I suppose that we could do all those things but that is not our gig, We are men and most of us never notice if we show up wearing the same suit as the other guys.
Ok ladies, I suppose that it is about time to say that I am screwing with you. Moms aren’t overrated at all, the fact is that most of the child rearing stuff is handled by you. You still tend to do more cooking than we do too. But the real point isn’t to start a discussion about who does more or who is more valuable.
Because our roles are different and they are both valuable. Not to mention that there are growing numbers of stay at home dads too, but that still is a different story.
Nope, the real point here is that I can’t go a week without stumbling across 1,298 posts by moms who cry about being inferior or insecure about your mothering skills. I am willing to bet that most of you are better at it than you realize. I don’t say that to blow sunshine up your behind or to curry favor either.
It is just an observation that the population isn’t shrinking. Every generation worries that it is weaker than the one before. The one thing that fathers seem to be better at is second guessing ourselves. We don’t do it with the frequency that moms do or so it seems to me.
But again, that is neither here nor there. There is no single way to parent. No roadmap or guidebook that can be applied across the board. I think that many of us would be much happier if we could let go of some of these insecurities and just accept that.
I am in love with a girl who has dark hair and dark eyes that you can get lost in. Most of the time she doesn’t take advantage of this, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I know she tries to manipulate me. I can’t say that she has never succeeded, but I hold the line most of the time.
Yep, I am talking about the dark haired beauty again. The female in my life that holds my heart captive in a different way than all others. I probably show off more for her than anyone else, just can’t help it, her laughter is contagious.
She has a little purse filled with two old cellphones and make up. I asked her why she needs two phones and she told me that one is for texting and the other is for talking. The dear girl is 5.5 going on 30.
Anyhoo, last night she came up with a line that made me laugh hysterically. She and her brother were engaged in a heated discussion about babies. I can’t tell you how or why it started because I didn’t hear the beginning. What I can say is that I stopped to listen and heard her shout:
“We aren’t chickens! We weren’t hatched! Mommy didn’t sit on us. We were in her tummy!”
When I heard that I damn near fell on the floor. From the tone of her voice I could tell that she was furious with him. For a moment I contemplated letting it continue but figured that things wouldn’t get better on their own.
So I walked into the room and asked her if she had any questions for me. As I prepared to answer the question of human reproduction she threw me for a loop and told me that whales don’t have babies. They just live in the ocean.
I could have answered her immediately and told her that whales are mammals. I could have given her plenty of details, discussed gestation periods, mother’s milk etc. But I didn’t. Didn’t because I wondered where she was going with this, wanted to know if it was a real comment/question or if it was leading somewhere else.
My kids know about sex in a general sense. My son and I have had the conversation. He knows what goes where and that grown up men can use their pals to do more than urinate. I didn’t give him much more in the way of detail than that and it was fine. It worked for him. He was seven when we had that talk.
The dark haired beauty is different and not just because she is younger. I understand how boys think. I follow the logic and the process, very simple. I follow the female brain but not with the same clarity. The question to me was whether she really needed to know more details and how much to give her.
I am not afraid to have the talk with her, although I rather expected it would come from her mother. While I contemplated how I wanted to respond her older brother decided that now would be a good time to make clucking noises. As a big brother I applauded his efforts, well played my boy I would have done that too.
But as a father I was most unappreciative of his attempt to rile her up. She was calm and very close to falling asleep and he wrecked that. As she responded to his clucking I gritted my teeth and wondered if I didn’t hear my father laughing. He wasn’t here, but I could have sworn that he said “payback is sweet.”
I have to make a mental note to check on that.The next time I am at their house I’ll remind my mother about something dad did. Hah, laugh at me will he. Anyhoo, I digress.
Being a resourceful father I took advantage of my son’s clucking to change the topic. I know, it sounds like I punted and I suppose that I did. But I decided that I preferred to save the conversation for daylight hours. Besides it gave me some time to formulate a more coherent response. More on that at a later date.
In the interim here is partial list of posts that relate conversations with my kids. There is some good stuff in that list, take a moment to sift through and you’ll find some real nuggets.
Too Much Information- The Girl in the Men’s Room
I am In Love.
Not Quite a Recap- Let’s Talk about Body Parts
She Broke My Penis
Daddy You Died
Dear Tooth Fairy
Dear Tooth Fairy Part II
Dancing With My Daughter
For A Good Time Call…
A Big Girl Bed
Blessing My Children
Father’s Love Their Daddies Too
A Sentimental Old Fool
She Broke My Penis
Dad, I Need A Phone
The World’s Strongest Penis
Penis Talk Revisited
My Penis Died
More Questions about Body Parts
Great Moments In Parenting- Parts of our Body That Grow
The Princess Speaks
Daddy You Died
My Daughter’s Favorite Book
A Big Girl Bed
Death Comes For Us All- When Do you Start Saying Goodbye
She Needs To Know About Boys
His Penis Is In The Wrong Place
Dancing With My Daughter
Are You Smarter Than A Rabbi? Part I
Are You Smarter Than A Rabbi? Part II
My Daughter
” The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows where
But I’m strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother
So on we go
His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear
We’ll get there
For I know
He would not encumber me
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother”
He Ain’t Heavy,He’s My Brother – The Hollies
The day of my grandmother’s funeral was filled with bittersweet moments and memories that will stay with me. It wasn’t the first time that I have seen my mother cry but it was one of the few in which she wasn’t mom, but the daughter who had lost her mother.Â
She and my aunt sat on either side of my grandfather, the three of them holding hands- staring at the grave in which grandma would be buried. And for a moment they stepped back in time and reassumed their roles as daughters and father. The foursome had turned into a trio.
My father and I stood silently on opposite sides of the three and listened to the rabbi share some thoughts and stories. He did his best to make them words of comfort, but for me they fell a bit short. He had only known her for a few years, he didn’t really know grandma, not like we did.
As I listened I thought about it all and replayed the conversation I had with my son on the way to the cemetery. I told him that I was a pallbearer and explained that I would help take grandma from the hearse to the grave. He listened intently, soaking everything up. The silence afterward making it clear that he was thinking about it.
And then I told him about how we would all take turns shoveling dirt on the casket and why. I told him that these things are important because they are among the last few things that we do for the person that has died.
When the time came to move grandma I found him standing next to me. He wanted to help so I made some room for him next to me. I found the moment to be a bit surreal. My dad was on the opposite side, three generations of the men in our family all there to help grandma one last time. Just before we started to walk I turned to him and gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.
Later the two of us would be told by the funeral director that we had to stop shoveling. It made my son very angry and me a little bit sadder. But I understood. It was a reasonable request. So I pushed the shovel into the mound of dirt and walked over to the side of the grave, motioning for my son to come stand with me.For a moment we were silent and then I said goodbye to grandma and walked away. I almost turned around, half expecting to see her standing there, but I forced myself to keep walking.
A few minutes later found us flying down the 118, just one more car on its way to who knows where. I broke the silence and asked him if he had any questions about what had happened. He said no and I told him that if he changed his mind he could always ask me later.
For a few minutes I was lost in my thoughts about what had happened and then it occurred to me that this was a good opportunity to try and teach him a few things. So I told him a few stories about how his great grandparents gave back to the community. I told him about why this was important and about how not everyone gets it.
We spent a few more minutes talking and then I told him that I wanted him to learn the difference between a hand up and a hand out. Because there is a significant difference between the two. But I think that I’ll save that discussion for later.
Welcome to the first edition of The Festival of Fathers- A Blog Experience. It is a collection of posts about parenting but written from a father’s perspective. Consider this the unofficial first edition in what will eventually become something bigger and better than it is now, kind of like our children.
There is no rhyme or reason to the order, they appear in random fashion, kind of like our kids do. One moment it is silent and the next it sounds like all hell has broken loose and then it is silent again. That is the way of children. If you like what you read leave a comment here and of course let the dads know on their own blogs.
And if you don’t agree with how we do it, remember, we’re men and we don’t ask for permission or directions because life is a lot more fun when you just live it. 😉
Treppenwitz:Parental fieldcraft vs. Technology
Clark Kent’s Lunchbox: “Endurance” Published by The Good Men Project
Dad Who Writes: Language, or more Little Elf speak
Luke, I Am Your Father: Thine Eyes Have Seen The Beauty
DC Urban Dad: Mini-Kamp, sometimes people aren’t who you think they are
US And Them: Mistaken Crustaceans And Fame
Jack: Teaching Children How To Judge Others
Stay At Home Dad: #FatherhoodFriday – Things I’ve learned from my daughter
Real Men Drive Minivans:My kid has expensive taste
Mocha Dad: Peer Pressure and Kindergarten Fashion
Almighty Dad: Solar Flare Survival Kit: Not Paranoia
Father Doesn’t Know Best: How Precious Are Your Pictures
And Triplets Make Six: The Driving Force
New York Dad: Grandma, Grandpa and Max Headroom…
Dada Rocks: Where does the time fly
Dadwagon: A Week on the Wagon: Punching Bag Edition
Why is Daddy Crying: Glitter Bitches!
Diary of a New Dad: Week Nine: Rainbow yawns, and a hole in my wallet
Outnumbered is Me:My Wife Left Me…
Dad Gone Mad: A Better Man
Dad-o-Matic: I Am Not Weird
Dad’s House: Bad Sex or No Sex
The Busy Dad: Neither I, Nor Beef, Will Ever Be The Same
Buck Daddy’s Blog: Because I Said So – Dad Edition – Dream Job
Backpacking Dad: Sophie Redux
Writer Dad: A Promise to My Family
DadLabs:Changing Station in Men’s John a Tipping Point in Human History
And there you have it, a brief snapshot, and one that is certainly not complete of the Daddy Bloggers that are hanging out in Cyberspace. It is a motley crew of men who are chronicling our adventures and experiences as fathers.
I would be greatly appreciative if you help share the love and send along a note, tweet, post, link whatever to your readers, friends and family. Feel free to leave comments, questions here or email me at talktojacknow-at-gmail-dot-com
P.S. And by all means feel free to sift through the archives here they are chalk full of good stuff. Sign up for the FB fan page, follow me on Twitter what have you. End of personal promotion.
