It takes a village to raise a child.
The other day Steph and I went to a specialist here in town to talk about ways we can help Ian with his behavior. Sometimes you have to travel a bit to find a guru type no matter where you live, but I guess ours is a good village! There is a lot of talent and expertise around us and we are glad about that.
As we were talking, my mind drifted to a parallel track in which we were indigenous people coming to a wise tribe elder for counsel. I guess things don't change much. Instead of bringing a chicken, though, we decided to leave a check.
It was helpful to get our thoughts out, and let her point out the common threads, offer insights, and suggest some avenues we might explore. And being proactive felt plenty good, too.
It got me thinking about how tricky parenting can be and how roles have changed for mothers and fathers. With Father's Day coming up, I began to reflect on fatherhood.
A few thoughts.....
"Any fool can have a baby. It takes a man to raise a child."
This is a quote from the father to the son in the Spike Lee movie "Boys In the Hood". I've always liked it. I'd like to add the word "patient" except that would take away from the strength of the simple language. Besides, I guess part of being a man is being patient.
They say that patience is a virtue. When it comes to being patient with people, I see it more as an act of love.
It's frightening sometimes to see the "any fool" (the one the quote refers to) having a baby. I wonder what will become of some of those children. Fatherhood can be hard work and some folks aren't up to it.
I'm so glad and fortunate that I wasn't the child of two people who simply got pregnant. I've been very lucky in my life.
They say that patience is a virtue. When it comes to being patient with people, I see it more as an act of love.
It's frightening sometimes to see the "any fool" (the one the quote refers to) having a baby. I wonder what will become of some of those children. Fatherhood can be hard work and some folks aren't up to it.
I'm so glad and fortunate that I wasn't the child of two people who simply got pregnant. I've been very lucky in my life.
Daddies always seem to have things to do and places to go.
I guess it's just the nature of things that dads traditionally go out and work and have to leave the loved ones at home. That's what we do and I think nature makes us that way. We don't want to leave. We have to live our lives and take care of business.
I had to leave this morning. Yep, had to go to work all day on Fathers' Day. It didn't feel very good, I must say, but I sure did get a warm welcome when I got home. There is no feeling like when little boys greet you at the door with a joyful shout of "DA - DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE !!!"
I guess it's just the nature of things that dads traditionally go out and work and have to leave the loved ones at home. That's what we do and I think nature makes us that way. We don't want to leave. We have to live our lives and take care of business.
I had to leave this morning. Yep, had to go to work all day on Fathers' Day. It didn't feel very good, I must say, but I sure did get a warm welcome when I got home. There is no feeling like when little boys greet you at the door with a joyful shout of "DA - DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE !!!"
One on one
An important aspect our expert outlined for us was to make it a point to spend one on one time with Ian on a regular basis. Not that we don't, but after hearing it, It was clear that we could do better. We spend a lot of time with the boys together.
It made sense instantly. As I considered that kind of attention being paid to a child, I realized that some of my most detailed and cherished memories of childhood with my dad were of time spent together - just he and I.
Sure, I remember 2 on 2 basketball, broomball, cards, meals, sorting socks by color of looped thread in the toes, and, of course, wrestling. All things we did together. But some of the things I valued most were things Dad and I did together. He's the reason I understand how an internal combustion engine works (hasn't that got me out of some jams along the years - I had a lot of high maintenance cars!). He's the reason I understand ( and even enjoy) quite a bit of math. He's the reason I go to the dictionary on a regular basis. He taught me how to drive a stick (long before I was driving age). He taught me many things. He taught me family history. We've sat around talking about building balsa wood model airplane kits. The old kind, mind you. Japanese tissue paper, etc. I had picked one up at a garage sale and finished some of it but it turns out Dad was pretty good at them. We've played more than our share of Gin Rummy and (do you remember, Dad?) backgammon. Lot of strategy there, folks.
And I'll never forget the day that Dad and I went to a diner. "You've never been to a diner?" he asked me one morning, the two of us out together going who knows where. "Nope." What could be better? I was thirteen. Dad and I at a diner. Cool.
One day, Dad and I were driving along Rt. 7 east of the mall. I was nine, I think, and I was reading road signs. Dad picked up on the fact that I had to be pretty close to read them. He asked me to tell him when I could read the next sign. "Now," I said when I could make out the white letters on the green background. He knew I needed glasses right then. School shmool. Dad is the one who knew my vision wasn't clear and he made sure I got tested and got a good pair of glasses right away. If we had been with the whole gang, if we hadn't been alone, he might not have noticed. But he was listening to me and he cared. For weeks, I kept taking off my glasses, then putting them back on, marveling at how clearly I could suddenly see things. Incredible! Thanks, Dad!
Rick and Jeff were older. I was still in my formative years. Dad took time. And I went back and forth to school with him for years. That was time we had to talk.
I know why I remember these things. When you spend time one on one the message is clear: You're worth talking to; you're worth spending time with. You're not in a group, you're not forced to talk about stuff - you just do. Because Dad talks to you, teaches you.
I think this is the kind of time together that Ian needs and will benefit from. We do it from time to time but I think more would be better and would show him the love I feel for him. He's a brilliant kid - creative, intelligent, sensitive. I hope I can be as good a Daddy as he is a kid. Go one on one time!
Oh, and one more note on one on one time: Have plenty of scrap paper on hand!
No Trespassing
We recently got bunk beds for the boys from a friend whose sons had outgrown them. Unfortunately, they came without the hardware (the original owners couldn't find it). I got replacement nuts and bolts and a dowel that had to be cut to join the top and bottom legs. Friday, Ian and I got all the stuff at the hardware store. Saturday and today, I worked all day. The plan was for me to put the beds together tomorrow but, lo and behold, when I got home tonight the beds were all together!
Whaaa?! Wait a minute.....How.....
It's Mommy the carpenter! It was such a surprise. I just never would have expected it! It was great! (I sometimes surprise Steph or the kids with things but I rarely get a surprise like that - too cool!)
After the initial shock set in I admit to having a few moments of awkward feelings. As if my turf had been tread on. Then I got over myself and realized that Mommy can take care of business, too. She cut the dowels, she turned a wrench. She's capable and resourceful. All the better for our buys! Well done, Steph!
Roles are changing.
An important aspect our expert outlined for us was to make it a point to spend one on one time with Ian on a regular basis. Not that we don't, but after hearing it, It was clear that we could do better. We spend a lot of time with the boys together.
It made sense instantly. As I considered that kind of attention being paid to a child, I realized that some of my most detailed and cherished memories of childhood with my dad were of time spent together - just he and I.
Sure, I remember 2 on 2 basketball, broomball, cards, meals, sorting socks by color of looped thread in the toes, and, of course, wrestling. All things we did together. But some of the things I valued most were things Dad and I did together. He's the reason I understand how an internal combustion engine works (hasn't that got me out of some jams along the years - I had a lot of high maintenance cars!). He's the reason I understand ( and even enjoy) quite a bit of math. He's the reason I go to the dictionary on a regular basis. He taught me how to drive a stick (long before I was driving age). He taught me many things. He taught me family history. We've sat around talking about building balsa wood model airplane kits. The old kind, mind you. Japanese tissue paper, etc. I had picked one up at a garage sale and finished some of it but it turns out Dad was pretty good at them. We've played more than our share of Gin Rummy and (do you remember, Dad?) backgammon. Lot of strategy there, folks.
And I'll never forget the day that Dad and I went to a diner. "You've never been to a diner?" he asked me one morning, the two of us out together going who knows where. "Nope." What could be better? I was thirteen. Dad and I at a diner. Cool.
One day, Dad and I were driving along Rt. 7 east of the mall. I was nine, I think, and I was reading road signs. Dad picked up on the fact that I had to be pretty close to read them. He asked me to tell him when I could read the next sign. "Now," I said when I could make out the white letters on the green background. He knew I needed glasses right then. School shmool. Dad is the one who knew my vision wasn't clear and he made sure I got tested and got a good pair of glasses right away. If we had been with the whole gang, if we hadn't been alone, he might not have noticed. But he was listening to me and he cared. For weeks, I kept taking off my glasses, then putting them back on, marveling at how clearly I could suddenly see things. Incredible! Thanks, Dad!
Rick and Jeff were older. I was still in my formative years. Dad took time. And I went back and forth to school with him for years. That was time we had to talk.
I know why I remember these things. When you spend time one on one the message is clear: You're worth talking to; you're worth spending time with. You're not in a group, you're not forced to talk about stuff - you just do. Because Dad talks to you, teaches you.
I think this is the kind of time together that Ian needs and will benefit from. We do it from time to time but I think more would be better and would show him the love I feel for him. He's a brilliant kid - creative, intelligent, sensitive. I hope I can be as good a Daddy as he is a kid. Go one on one time!
Oh, and one more note on one on one time: Have plenty of scrap paper on hand!
No Trespassing
We recently got bunk beds for the boys from a friend whose sons had outgrown them. Unfortunately, they came without the hardware (the original owners couldn't find it). I got replacement nuts and bolts and a dowel that had to be cut to join the top and bottom legs. Friday, Ian and I got all the stuff at the hardware store. Saturday and today, I worked all day. The plan was for me to put the beds together tomorrow but, lo and behold, when I got home tonight the beds were all together!
Whaaa?! Wait a minute.....How.....
It's Mommy the carpenter! It was such a surprise. I just never would have expected it! It was great! (I sometimes surprise Steph or the kids with things but I rarely get a surprise like that - too cool!)
After the initial shock set in I admit to having a few moments of awkward feelings. As if my turf had been tread on. Then I got over myself and realized that Mommy can take care of business, too. She cut the dowels, she turned a wrench. She's capable and resourceful. All the better for our buys! Well done, Steph!
Roles are changing.
Mommies go to work. Men are expected to be more sensitive with their kids. I embrace these things to the point that they make us good parents. It's a challenge. When has parenthood ever been anything but?
Happy Fathers' Day to daddies everywhere! Happy Fathers' Day, Dad! Thank you for all you've given me.
