“Daddy, I Don’t Love You!”

Well, I finally got mine this week.

I’ve heard that it happens to every parent. It’s really just a matter of time and there really isn’t anything you can do to stop it. You can set up the circumstances and plan as best you can, but even the most skilled veteran parents are going to get it at some point or another. I’ll admit, I don’t know that I expected it this early – is four years of parenthood even considered early? – but I figured it was coming sooner or later.

Last week, E told me he didn’t love me.  Continue reading ““Daddy, I Don’t Love You!””

Politics Shmolitics

I don’t want to write about politics.

This blog is supposed to be about parenting (yes, among other things) and I have a small enough amount of readers as it is without publishing my political views on the internet. If the idea is to try to expand my reach, taking a political stand runs the risk of alienating some people. Of course, I also realize that, although I might not spell out my views explicitly, it’s probably not that hard to figure them out, especially if you consider my full-time occupation or follow me on social media.1 But I’ll let you do that homework on your own, if you’re so inclined.

In the meantime, I’m not going to write about politics.  Continue reading “Politics Shmolitics”

My Father’s Hands

My first distinct memory of my father’s hands is from when I was six or seven years old. There wasn’t anything remarkable about them; five fingers each, no marks on the skin or anything like that.1 They were just his hands.

I had been playing with Legos and had gotten two small pieces stuck together so tightly that my little fingers could not get them separated again. I remember thinking at the time that my mother would be the better person to ask for help. I should say, it was not because moms solve everything and a dad’s only purpose is to be able to tell his child where mom is, as some internet memes might have you believe.2 No, it was much more practical than that. At that age, I understood that I needed something small to get between my two Lego pieces and my mom had something my dad did not: nails.  Continue reading “My Father’s Hands”

Dear S

Dear S,

I wrote a letter to you a few weeks ago, but that was before I knew you were you. It was before I knew you were a girl, for one thing, although your brother was adamant that he knew you were. It was also before I remembered what it was like to have an infant around. I had forgotten about doing my best to find things in the dark so I wouldn’t wake your mother up while I was changing your diaper in the middle of the night. I’d forgotten about the Zombie Parent Shuffle, the dance steps that exhausted parents do as they pace back and forth while trying to rock their newborns back to sleep. I’d forgotten how quickly dirty laundry adds up and how frequently newborns need their diapers to be changed (seriously, turn off the faucet, would you?).  Continue reading “Dear S”

A Trip to Wonderland

I’ve always been a big fan of driving trips. My family and I never went on any huge vacations when I was a kid but we did go on different driving trips. When we lived in Chicago, we drove up to Wisconsin on a few different occasions, plus Indianapolis and Detroit. My parents made a vacation out of our move to New York, stopping at various landmarks along the way, and we made a number of trips after we had moved, as well, including a tour of battlefields from the Revolutionary War in Pennsylvania and a longer trip through Virginia to see Civil War sites. We drove up to Maine to see family friends and then to Ohio, after they moved, plus shorter trips to Connecticut, Boston and countless trips to Philadelphia to see my grandparents.  Continue reading “A Trip to Wonderland”

A Letter to My Unborn Child

Dear… umm… Baby (I guess),

Well, that was an awkward start.

I wasn’t quite sure what to write there, as I’m sure you could tell. We have names picked out for you but we’re saving them for when we actually get to meet you. It also would have been just as awkward for me to write Dear Boy Name/Girl Name. I even considered writing Dear PTBNL, the acronym that Major League Baseball uses for a Player To Be Named Later, but it’s unwieldy and most people probably wouldn’t have recognized it right away anyway.1 In any event, I just went with Baby. That’s what you are, at this point anyway, so that’s what seems to fit the best.  Continue reading “A Letter to My Unborn Child”

Big Brother Short Stories

A friend of ours came over one evening last week. She is a long time friend of T’s and mine from our college days and she’s always had a sort of special relationship with each of us. As E has gotten older, he’s grown to love her as well. She can match his energy and enthusiasm on a consistent basis, which us a big reason for his affection for her. The other reason is that she’s never afraid to get down to his level, whether they’re doing puzzles or dancing or fighting with light-sabers.

As we sat down to eat dinner, E started telling the three of us something that I can’t remember, although it was clearly very important to him at the time. Continue reading “Big Brother Short Stories”

Writing My Legacy

During the 1995-1996 NBA season, the Chicago Bulls – my Chicago Bulls – dominated the league. They won 72 games out of an 82-game season and lost only three times in the playoffs, beating the Seattle Supersonics in six games to clinch the first of their second set of three championships in a row. That team is considered, if not the best team of all time, at least one of the top two or three, as arguments can be made for the ’86 Celtics or maybe one of those early ’80s Lakers teams.1 The Bulls were led by Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen and Dennis Rodman, as well as one of the strongest supporting casts ever behind sharpshooters Toni Kukoc and Steve Kerr (more about him in a minute) and the versatile Ron Harper.  Continue reading “Writing My Legacy”

Sleeping on the Edge (Again)

I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately.

Some of it is because I have things on my mind. I spend my days writing progress notes and service plans and working with families to help them find ways to improve their kids’ behaviors and develop more positive and productive relationships. There are always tasks I know I haven’t finished or conversations from home visits that I haven’t been able to shake by the time I go to bed. There are also the typical parent and husband thoughts that keep me up, like how things are going to change when our new baby comes or thinking of ways to keep a strong relationship with T while we’re both so occupied with balancing work and taking care of our family.  Continue reading “Sleeping on the Edge (Again)”

Living in the Moment

I had a dad moment this past weekend.

Last week, T, E and I were in the car and one of my favorite Billy Joel songs came on the radio. T and I immediately started singing, belting out the words at the tops of our lungs and dancing in our seats.1 I looked back at him a few times during the song so that I could see him grinning widely and dancing in his car seat along with us. E had never heard the song before but he could tell that it was important so he joined in.  Continue reading “Living in the Moment”

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