I’m Not Ready For This

I’m not talking about the snow we got last night. That cold, white, fluffy stuff can fall all it wants. I’m comfortable driving in it (once we get our winter tires put on). I love playing in it. I love how it makes the world look clean again. We really didn’t even get that much. It was enough to make the roads wet and the grass white for a couple hours. It was also enough to excite a certain 6 year old.

I can’t believe it’s Christmas and it’s only November 14th!!

In truth, what I’m not ready for is the excited 6 year old’s brother to take an interest in girls. I always knew it was just a matter of time, but I didn’t think that time would ever come. It would eternally be “just a matter of time”. Girls are supposed to be gross. Cooties and all…

We’ve now come to a new bridge. One in which we’ve never crossed before. Preferably, I’d like to go ahead and burn it now and make him swim across when he’s 25. On the other hand, I don’t want him to drown or eaten by a manipulative crock when he starts swimming the strange waters that are relationships when he’s 25.

I’ve been trying to think of myself when I was 10. From what I can remember I was a fairly shy little dork back then. The only difference now is that I’m less shy. More importantly, I’m trying to remember how my parents handled me back then. Did I express such an interest in girls in fifth grade? Did my parents let me handle it how I wanted? How much more did they know than they let on to? Should I handle Crash’s love interests the same way?

My God. I’ve got a thousand more questions now than I did when I started writing this post.

I would love to be a hands off, watch from a distance kind of dad. At the same time, I don’t want to be watching from a distance if it’s going to be a trainwreck. But at the same time, it’s his trainwreck and he needs to learn how to handle it. But at the same time, maybe it won’t be trainwreck. I do have an extra tool that my parents didn’t have. Texting. He’s learned to text others from his tablet. This means, unbeknownst to him, we can read his conversations. On one hand it sounds like a breech in privacy and trust. In my head, we’re the parents, he’s 10, and we’re keeping him safe. Right? As of right now he doesn’t know that we DW figured out the password he put on his tablet.

The advantage is that it gives us an insight into what’s going on in his head. It’s easy to forget that he’s got more going on than just going to school and learning. He’s learning to make friends and be a friend. He’s learning about this girl interest. He’s got everything going on at home… being a son, being a brother, his own interests and desires. He is his own person even if he’s still growing into the man he’ll be one day. It’s our responsibility to help him grow into that man. Help him navigate those new waters, new experiences, and figure out how to grow up.

For now, I’ll just keep snooping, keep my trap shut on what I know, and try to show a little more patience.

Then I’ll cross my fingers and hope for more snow.

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Losing My Independence

Happy Independence Day everyone! On this day in 1776 America gained its independence from Great Britain.

On this day in 2007 I lost my independence to an 8 pound 9 ounce bundle of joy and frustration. I really can’t complain. He was a fairly easy baby to care for, once we figured out why he was crying. Hungry? Dirty diaper? Wanted to be rocked? Wanted to be put down? Ahh… he wants swaddled in 95 degree Virginia heat.

He was my introduction to all things baby, parenting, and fatherhood.

10 years later he is still my introduction too all things parenting and parenthood.

Double digits. The big 1-0. Exactly 1/4 of his parents age. And I’m still trying to figure out this parenting gig.

He is one part sweet, one part boisterous, one part stubborn like an old mule.

One part sweet

I’ve seen in him help a classmate in need. Said classmate needed help packing his backpack after snack time while we were on a field trip. While he finished his snack Crash packed his classmate’s bag. No one asked him to. No one demanded it or implied it. He just did it. I’ve heard of him helping another classmate out of the building during fire drills because the classmate has a hard time with the loud bells. Crash holds his hand and stay with them until they are safely outside with the rest of their class. No one asked him to. No one demanded it or implied it. He just did it. I’ve caught him reading to his little brother at bedtime. Partly because it allows them to stay up a few minutes longer and partly because he loves him. Even if it is hard to tell that at times. He has gotten in minor trouble at school a few times because some “friends” told on him. Not once have I heard of him tattling on those same friends.

One part boisterous

He is the stereotypical boy – dirt with noise. Son up to son down. There’s is usually never any doubt as to where he is. We can either hear him or we can follow his trail of dirt. Like Charlie Brown’s friend, Pigpen. Minus the blankie. If there’s dirt, or even better, mud, or water or rocks or sticks he is guaranteed to be playing in them or with them. Especially, if he’s been told not to. If there’s music playing he likes it to rattle the windows and echo off the mountainside. Yet, on the flip side of the same coin, he can be shy. Talking to new people doesn’t come easy for him. He enjoys singing, but not if anyone is listening.

Stubborn as an old mule

Tell him not to do something is a surefire way to get him to do it. It works in reverse, too. Tell him to do something and chances are he won’t. Unless he really wants to. Get ready for school? No chance in hell. Great ready for bed? Might as well bang your head against the wall. It’ll be far less painful.

Time and again people comment on how big he’s getting, both in height and in age. He calls himself a pre-teen now. I guess technically he is. How old does he think he is? What was I doing when I was 10?

Bud. Buddy. Riggity. Dude. He is mostly our pride, joy, and source of laughter. He is also a little bit of frustration. Though, we’re probably all a bit of frustration at times.

Happy 10th birthday, man.

This Is the Boy…

You know the cliche, the days go slow the years go fast. Today before me stands a six year old. Yesterday he was five. He started school this year and is learning in leaps and bounds. He’s stubborn but loving. He’s quite the comedian, too. If you’ve read any of the Questions I Asked My Kids posts you’ll see that humor shine through. We never know what’s going to come out of him.

This is the boy who talks to himself while doing his business in the bathroom. He pretends to make YouTube videos. 

This is the boy who loves kayaking. His first time in a kayak he paddled away like he’d been doing it for years. He was 5.

This is the boy who still loves trains, trucks, ships, diggers, dumpers, dozers and crossing bridges. He puts his window down to “hear the bridge” whenever we cross one. 

This is the boy who love dirt more than trains, trucks, diggers, dumpers, dozers, and ships. Dirt loves him, too.

This is the boy who loves to do homework with his brother. It won’t be long before his brother will be paying him to do his homework. 

This is the boy who is a half inch taller than what his brother was at the same age. 

This is the boy who’s taught to say “I love you” without saying “I love you”. “I like your face” has become the new quote around the house. “Night night, like your face”. “Bye! Like your face!” Or at some random time when we’re just sitting around watching TV. 

He’s stubborn as an old mule. He’s got his grandfather’s (Guppie) temper. But he’s a lovey boy who sits with the old ladies in the church choir, who has hugs for his teachers every day, who shovels the neighbor’s driveway. 

Happy birthday sweet boy. 

This Is the Boy…

You know the cliche, the days go slow the years go fast. Today before me stands a six year old. Yesterday he was five. He started school this year and is learning in leaps and bounds. He’s stubborn but loving. He’s quite the comedian, too. If you’ve read any of the Questions I Asked My Kids posts you’ll see that humor shine through. We never know what’s going to come out of him.

This is the boy who talks to himself while doing his business in the bathroom. He pretends to make YouTube videos. 

This is the boy who loves kayaking. His first time in a kayak he paddled away like he’d been doing it for years. He was 5.

This is the boy who still loves trains, trucks, ships, diggers, dumpers, dozers and crossing bridges. He puts his window down to “hear the bridge” whenever we cross one. 

This is the boy who love dirt more than trains, trucks, diggers, dumpers, dozers, and ships. Dirt loves him, too.

This is the boy who loves to do homework with his brother. It won’t be long before his brother will be paying him to do his homework. 

This is the boy who is a half inch taller than what his brother was at the same age. 

This is the boy who’s taught to say “I love you” without saying “I love you”. “I like your face” has become the new quote around the house. “Night night, like your face”. “Bye! Like your face!” Or at some random time when we’re just sitting around watching TV. 

He’s stubborn as an old mule. He’s got his grandfather’s (Guppie) temper. But he’s a lovey boy who sits with the old ladies in the church choir, who has hugs for his teachers every day, who shovels the neighbor’s driveway. 

Happy birthday sweet boy. 

A snow at Night

I’ve got 17 minutes while my video Crash and I recorded this evening finished rendering so I can get up on the channel. Crash wants it on his channel, too.

Anyway, Bang is off to a sleepover at Nanny and Pop’s house. The snow is flying here and we’re supposed to get 4 inches tonight and another possible 12 inches tomorrow night. The winds were calm so I suggested to Crash, “Lets take the drone for a fly.”

“But it’s dark and snowing!”

“So. It’ll be alright. There’s no wind.”

The grin he gave me nearly split his face in two. First, we were going to fly the drone. Second, it was slightly risky because it’s dark and snowing. Good father/son times. Excluding severe weather,  wind is our biggest enemy with this toy. Since there was none, we strapped on the GoPro (which doesn’t mind extreme weather) and took off.

It was calm enough that I fairly comfortable handing the controls over to Crash. Allowing a 9 year old to manoeuvre a done that doesn’t have GPS capabilities isn’t highly recommended. He didn’t do too bad. I was there to coach him. His only mistake was that he kept throttling down too fast so he kept “bouncing” it off the snowy ground. Fortunately, it was only falling from a few feet. No harm done and he got to experience handling the controls.

I got some neat video at the end, but because I had forgotten to wipe the snow off the camera on the last bounce there wasn’t much to see. You can just barely make us out through the snow crystals clinging to the lens.

Anyway, this little toy of ours has become something he and I can do together. Granted, the battery only lasts about 10 minutes… it’s still time together. After our flight, it was snack time, teeth time, then read time. We’re on chapter 29 of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix – another us time moment that we both look forward to every night. Now I’m looking forward to spending a few minutes with DW before we both crawl into bed between our new microfleece sheets.

Click here to see the drone in the snow at night video…

The BEST Birthday Card Ever in the History

Supper was awesome (lasagna). The Coke was awesome. Cake and ice cream were awesome. All the the presents were super awesome. DW’s card was touching and sincere (love you, too Wifey). My parent’s card was brilliant (no one’s me-er than me). The boys’s card reminded me that I’m unique. But this one topped them all. Thanks buddy.

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”

The three people with hearts over their heads would be Crash, Bang, and their mother. The floaty head on the right is a Baltimore Oriole (the baseball team, not a bird). And, of course, that’s Luke Skywalker at the bottom.

The boy knows all my favorites!

A Letter To My Oldest Son

Hey buddy,

I can’t believe you’re going to be nine in a couple weeks. It seems like just yesterday your mom and I were bringing you home from the hospital. You gave us a good scare there in the beginning. You don’t remember your open heart surgery when you were five days old, but we remember. Vividly.

Speaking of your heart, you’re our tenderheart child. You feel greatly. Your feelings can be hurt easily. Sometimes I pick on you and lightly make fun of you not to hurt those tender feelings of yours. I do it to help you understand the difference between people teasing to make you laugh and teasing to hurt you. I do it so you won’t be so hard on yourself. I do it so you understand that humor can be the best medicine.

You are our snuggler. Our hugger. Hugs hello. Hugs goodbye. Hugs because you feel loved. Hugs because you want someone else to feel loved. When your actions help others and gains you nothing, I know you will grow up to be a great person.

I would never tell you to stop feeling. Feelings are important in today’s society. It means you care for others as much as you care for yourself. They allow you to empathise. They allow you to not just understand what others are feeling, but to know what they are feeling. Especially those closest to you.

I would never tell you to “suck it up” because this world needs more people who care. That is what calls people to action. Many people complain about a situation, their own or one with society. However, it’s the ones who care who step up and do something about it. They are the problem solvers of the world.

I would never tell you to “grow a pair” because great leaders understand emotion. They understand people’s emotions are an important part of a skill set. The greater you can make someone feel the more productive they’re likely to be. Great leaders tap into their own emotions as well as the emotions of their colleagues to make them feel as equals, not as minions.

I would never tell you to “man up”. To “man up” signifies that you are not a man. Obviously, you are not a man, you’re only nine. But you are of the man species. Telling you to man up would signify that you can’t be a man because you have emotions, because you care, because you shed a tear. It signifies that you are less than a man. To be less than a man is less than human. Less than life itself. You are not. You never will be. I don’t care what anyone tells you or tries to make you feel.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ll will tell you to quit your bitchin’. You are to quit your bitchin’ if you are complaining more about the problem than doing anything to solve the problem. You are to quit your bitching if you’re complaining about something that can’t be changed (aka, the weather). You are to quit your bitchin’ if you’re complaining about something that is your own fault.

You are our tenderheart and I hope that never changes. I know there will be some events that will try to harden you. They will try to break you down into a person who doesn’t care. I hope you only let them build you up and make you the man I know you’ll be.

Love,
Dad

 

My Test

Yesterday I wrote about keeping my boys from becoming a-holes. These were rules for my boys to follow should they decide they want to date. Since the oldest is only eight, we still have plenty of time to teach, guide, and practice those rules.

And like I wrote yesterday, there were two directions I could have taken with that post. The way I chose to go yesterday were rules for my boys to follow in order to treat a girl properly. Today, I’ll flip the coin. These are rules for all those girls out there who might want to date one of my sons sometime in the distant future.

First, you must be educated. I don’t necessarily mean smart (smart is major bonus, though) but at least in school and trying. Not in school and not trying leads to stupid and stupid hurts.

You must dress appropriately. Shorts can’t be too short, skirts must be tasteful. No bra showing. Essentially, don’t dress like a hooker. You won’t make it through the front door. Consider covering up like an Amish girl.

There will be no touching, fondling, kissing, etc… I expect lady like behavior. Be a lady, not a hooch.

Ears pierced only. There’s no need for things through your tongue. It’s bad for your teeth. Isn’t there only one reason to pierce your tongue? See the previous rule.

He will not be your money machine. Sure, he’ll be the gentleman and pay for supper when you go out to eat. Don’t expect him to buy everything. Be a woman of power and buy your own shit with your own money.

He will be a gentleman, I expect you to be a lady and treat him as such. So, when he holds the door open for you, you tell him thank you. When he opens your car door you reach across and unlock his door before he gets to it. I understand this might be more difficult in the world of remote unlock buttons. But in the event you don’t have a key fob, unlock his door.

When the two of you go swimming, the less skin you show the less distracted he’ll be and the more lady like you’ll be. The less you reveal the more respect you’ll earn. Victoria’s secret isn’t a secret anymore. Your secret will remain as such.

Lastly, to my sons, the girl you choose should make you feel like you are flying. She should love you for who you are, not who she wants you to be. Yet, at the same time, you should feel you want to be the best you can be, be better than you were, just for her. Because she makes you feel like you can conquer the world. If she can’t do this then she’s not “the one”.

Should she break your heart, you’re dad will beat up her dad for raising a heartless wench.

 

Passing the Test

Ah Dad has a Test for boys to pass if they intend to date his daughters. After reading his list (and his reasoning) I feel obligated to write my own. Except, since I have two boys, I figured there were two ways to take this. This first way will correspond with Ah Dad’s rules. However, the rules will pertain to Crash and Bang. Then perhaps, I will succeed in raising two boys who can pass the test to date his Princess. With some planning, a hell of a lot of instruction, guidance, and discipline, my kids won’t grow up to be a-holes.

With an open heart

It is not often I talk about this, though I have hinted at it in previous posts. It’s not that it’s difficult to talk about. It’s that it is filled with such mixed emotions. Excited. Scared. Hopeful. Helpless. Confused. Joy. It was quite the roller coaster.