Tag: parenting

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Dad Blogs Family Fatherhood

Third Time’s the Charm

Best DadAfter three visits to the pediatrician, my son is finally starting to feel better. The problem stemmed from the fact that it was I, the father, who has taken him in each time to see the doctor. See, the thing is, if you’re not a “father” then you may not understand it when I say that doctors don’t put much stock in what dads “think” about their kids. Call it ignorance about today’s dads; call it ambivalence…whatever; the truth is that unless a doctor can physically see or hear the symptoms that a “father” claims his child has, it simply does not exist.

For whatever reason, mothers are these perfect little diagnosers who only bring their children in when it’s an emergency, as compared to fathers who apparently run right in with the child at the first sign of a fever.

So it was that I was profoundly ecstatic when after our name was called, and I cradeled my sick son in my arms and walked to the back where the waiting rooms are, that my son started hacking like there was no tomorrow. Immediately, no fewer than six women turned towards the sound and upon seeing my pudgy little blonde-haired, blue-eyed son coughing his lungs out, all crinkled up their foreheads in a concerned look and let out a collective, “Oh…”

I knew in that instant that I was FINALLY gonna get some satisfaction “up in here.” I looked around and said as loud a could be, “See, I’m not imagining it!”

The doctor, upon hearing the cough, feared the worst and thought perhaps the cough had travelled into his lungs, but thankfully that was not the case. The diagnosis: a sinus infection, for which I blame myself of course. I’ve had a deviated septum corrected and my sinus cavities roto rootered out, and I continue to be plagued by polyps for which only a daily steroid spray is my last defense (even as I write this, the bumps on my forehead indicate the signs of an ongoing struggle against an infection and I can “smell” my own sinuses, which indicates that indeed, I am not right in the head (that’s so gross!!)).

After this little episode during which a father was shown to not be completely inept with a child, and as I quietly sat with my sick child in a tiny little room and kept him relatively happy for 30 minutes, I’d like to think that maybe my stock has gone up at the pediatrician’s office. I would like to imagine that somewhere in my son’s chart the pregnant doctor who saw us wrote:

 “Child was brought in by an especially astute, caring father.
Child was given 10-days worth of Amoxicillin at 400mg for
a sinus infection.”

“Oh and also: dispensed a size 2 diaper because the aforementioned
father forgot the diaper bag.”

Ah credibility. So hard to earn…so easily lost.

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Dad Blogs Fatherhood Society

Adios John Wayne

A friend of mine is having some difficulties with her son in school. From the surface, it looks like a simple case of ADD, but it’s really more complex than that. At the same time, in my oldest son’s daycare class, there are a couple of “problem” boys with similar behavior patterns. In at least the case of my friend, I know the problem isn’t a lack of discipline, which might be the logical leap most people would make looking in on the problem from the outside.

Couple this with some observations I’ve made in my own household and I’ve concluded that, as suspected, boys in our society have become an unknown, and unfortunately, untolerated breed.

No no…think about it. Some statistics courtesy of the U.S. Census Bureau:

  •  As of 2002, there were 687,000 + daycare centers, employing more than 750,000 workers. This means that a lot of these so-called “centers” are actually in-home daycare centers since the average daycare facility employs 20+ caregivers.
  • Including pre-schoolers, there are more than 12 million children cared for in these centers.
  • Also as of 2002, 9.2% of all U.S. households are run by single mothers.

Now I don’t have the numbers for the percentage of workers in these centers that are women, but I’d bet it’s somewhere near 99.99%. Add that number to the total number of children being solely influence and raised by women and it doesn’t take a crystal ball to see that a large portion of our young boys today are being raised by someone who is ill-prepared to understand the needs of boys as they grow up.

Just as I wouldn’t begin to pretend to understand the life-stages of a girl, is it right to expect women to understand the mind of a 3-year old boy without someone there to help them understand? Is it any wonder then that in our daycares and schools (and even our single parent homes) young boys are being reared and disciplined based upon a woman’s understanding of how that child should be behaving?

I say no! Just as it wouldn’t be right for me to tell a 6-year old girl that she shouldn’t play Suzy homemaker with her Easy Bake Oven because it might foster stereotypical behavior that would stifle her ultimate potential as a woman, is it fair for a teacher to force an energetic young boy to sit still and color in a misguided belief that he’s somehow wasting his energy on a frivolous pursuit at football greatness?

It’s sad, but we’ve gone the other way in our desire to “equalize” the playing field in the workplace. And that’s really what all this is about isn’t it? Making sure that when children grow up, they have the same earnings potential whether they are a boy or a girl? Would anyone still give a rip if it was a given that girls did so and so and boys did such and such when the grew up? Would we still be putting record numbers of children (57 per 1,000 for boys and 37 per 1,000 for girls source) on attention deficit drugs if nobody gave a flip whether or not boys could sit still and paste beads on paper plates or girls could play video games without it ending in tears. I somehow doubt it.

Yet here we are and who ends up suffering for it? The very ones we’re trying to “help.”

Years ago when my wife and I were newly married, she would often come home and complain about work at which point I would offer advice in an attempt at “fixing” it. Finally one day she said, “I don’t need you to fix it…I just need you to listen and be supportive.”

Teachers; well-intentioned single mothers; most of these boys aren’t broken, they just need a little understanding. And for the love of all things holy, let them play tackle football for goodness’ sake!

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Dad Blogs Family Fatherhood

What Dads Want to Do with Their Free Time

I’m not sure what I miss most about the pre-children days. Is it the financial freedom that comes from not paying $1,600 per month for childcare? Is it the independence to just get up at random times throughout the day and go do something without having to pack for an entire flotilla of people and possible potty scenarios? Perhaps it’s the sleeping in on the weekend rather than the “up at 5:30 a.m.” scene we have going on every morning now with the baby (I’m trying to train him to go back to sleep, but when you walk in his room, he looks over at you and cracks up, it’s hard to just walk away). There are so many things that I miss that I’m just not sure.

But you know when you’re in the middle of something, that thing right there is always the worst “thing” or the most exciting “moment?” Well, that’s how it is with me and movies right now.

Before our second child, I had joined NetFlix. If you’re not familiar, it’s an online movie ordering system and for various price levels, you can rent a certain number of movies each month. The differentiator used to be that you kept them as long as you want…but of course, you’re still paying a monthly fee (I pay around $15 p/month and I can have out 3 movies at a time) so it behooves you to return them for your next batch. I say that used to be the differentiator only because BlockBuster and others now offer similar programs, but I’m avidly anti-Blockbuster and Hollywood video because both of them employ low-paid teenagers who apparently cannot scan in a movie correctly and for some strange reason, their corporate execs tend to believe their highly churned, low-paid workers over a long-time customer when it comes to figuring out what the hell happened to “Memoirs of a Geisha.” Like I’d want to keep that movie?

Anyway, I suspended my NetFlix account after our second baby was born because I rightfully figured I wouldn’t have time for movies. But then I started it back up a month ago because I suddenly had this hour of time from 9 p.m. to 10 p.m. –the time between when we normally have all the kids in bed and the time I know I have to turn the lights off so I can mentally and physically be prepared to wake up multiple times in the night AND still function like a normal person at work the next day.

Finally, I got a movie in that I’d really been wanting to see, “Smokin’ Aces.” It’s a 100% shoot-em-up guy movie and figuring I’d be able to get in a good bit of it last night, I threw on the headphones and kicked back. Unfortunately, my wife decided to hold off on her shower tonight (cuz going to the gym in the a.m.) and was sending out “the vibe.” You know what I’m talking about–the vibe–don’t pretend like you don’t. So, I dutifully turned off the movie and gave my relationship the attention it deserves. Of course, by the time we were both ready for bed, it was 9:54 p.m. and I have to assume I’ll be getting up at least once in the night AND again at 5:30 a.m. so I turned the lights off and went to bed.

On the upside, I was right and I did have to get up at 5:30, so at least I made the right decision in that regard.

But that got me to thinking…movies. Man, what I wouldn’t give for a full day of doing nothing but catching up on movies that I’ve missed. Spider Man 3, Transformers, Smokin’ Aces even. This 1-hour I sometimes have can’t be counted on and there are few entertainment annoyances worse than having to stop and start a good movie. Especially when you think there’s a twist in the movie that you’ve somehow missed.
I don’t know…this too will pass I suppose. Maybe I’ll have to take a vacation day and force myself not to do work around the house and instead, load up on good movies I’ve missed–sans family! It’s sounding better by the moment!

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A Boy's Life Dad Blogs Family Fatherhood

There are Certain Gifts Dads Want to Give their Sons First

Santa Claus: How about a nice football?
Ralphie as Adult:[narrating] Football? Football? What’s a football? With unconscious will my voice squeaked out ‘football’.
Santa Claus: Okay, get him out of here.
Ralphie as Adult: [narrating] A football? Oh no, what was I doing? Wake up, Stupid! Wake up!
Ralphie: [Ralphie is shoved down the slide, but he stops himself and climbs back up] No! No! I want an Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle!
Santa Claus: You’ll shoot your eye out, kid.(A Christmas Story)

…sigh.

My adopted parents divorced when I was about 5 years old and for years afterwards, my brother and I spent the occasional weekend with my adopted mom at her place. Usually, it was a dinky house on Dauphin Island; but, every once in awhile it was wherever her boyfriend (now husband) was working a contract job—New York, California—wherever.

One of the ways she would ensure that we wanted to come was by taking us to the toy store and telling us we could get one thing we wanted (within a spending limit of course). Being a young boy, there were tons of things I wanted, but one particular year, I wanted a BB gun. Thinking back, I can’t remember if I’d asked for one at home or not, so I don’t know if my dad had already put the kebosh on the idea, but by golly, she said I could have whatever I wanted, and that’s what I wanted.

As it turns out, my dad was none too happy, but not for the reason you might think. It wasn’t that he was against guns. No, in fact, he’d shown me how to shoot a .22 rifle and single-barrel 12-gauge shotgun by the time I was ten. The reason he was so mad at my “mom” was because he felt that giving a young boy his first gun was a dad’s job and he was mad at her for usurping what he felt was a rite of passage. Even at such a young age, that made sense to me, but you know what? I didn’t care. I had my BB gun and frankly, I didn’t care who gave it to me. With two boys of my own, I understand his disappointment now and I feel bad that he was deprived of that responsibility.

With my BB gun, I did the usual things a boy does with a gun, some cruel, but mostly I just shot at stuff. The aim on those guns is so poor anyway that most animals had a pretty fair chance at avoiding a “sting” from one of my little copper spheres of death. But the point is, that as an adult, I don’t own a gun now (but not because I fear them). I’m not scarred for life by having held a weapon as a child, nor do I suffer from nightmares stemming from hours upon hours of playing shoot-em-up in the dirt field across the way from our house. Upon that field, I’ve died a thousand childhood deaths as an Indian, a cowboy, a good/bad guy from Star Wars, you name it.

So it is with great inner turmoil that I address this idea of playing guns with my 3-year old. There’s a little boy in my son’s daycare class whose dad is a soldier. As with most parents, their lives reflect their livelihood and so it is with this young boy. Right or wrong, this child has learned all kinds of war-like behavior and consequently, all the other sponges in his class have picked it up too. And it’s not just a matter of going around “shooting” anything that moves and making those “pcuuuushh” noise that simulates gun firing; no, the boy apparently has a firm grasp on what it means to “kill” something. It is this, more than anything that strikes fear into my wife (more so than me).

Just as I don’t understand how playing with dolls is a normal part of growing up for girls, my wife doesn’t understand about guns. For her, playing cops and robbers, or shooting the dogs with his pretend gun-hand is akin to sneaking into their room at night and slitting their throats. For her, there is no line between playing and reality and so she has put her foot down about playing guns.

You can see my dilemma right? I get it…this world today isn’t the same world it was 25 years ago when we were kids. Even taking a toy gun to school these days will land a kid in juvey and heaven forbid he says—even jokingly—to another boy, “I’m going to kill you.”

Just as I don’t think my son would understand a frank talk about guns and their dangers to society, I also don’t think that what he’s doing now is going to have any long-lasting effect. And where do you draw the line? Do you just tell your child that playing guns or knives is bad, or do you say, “No Timmy, you can’t play wrestling, boxing, good-guy/bad-guy…nothing.”

Violence is part of a boy’s growing up. It’s how pecking orders are established and by golly, my son will grow up knowing how to take care of himself, whether that be teaching him a few karate moves or showing him how to shoot a gun when he’s older in case the world is hit by a meteorite and we revert back to the iron-age and he must protect his family.

But for now, I’ll hold my tongue, or at least try and moderate his behavior. But deep down, I really don’t see the problem. He’s three…let him play.