The Gift

“Wait, where is E?” T asked.

We had come to Citi Field to celebrate E’s birthday and to see the Cubs play the Mets.1 A baseball stadium was never a good place to lose a child, but especially not on his birthday.

We scanned our group quickly. My brother, his wife and their daughter were sitting in the row in front of us and my youngest brother, his wife and their young son were another row down. My mother and her husband were in that row, as well. I kept moving my head from side to side, trying to crane my neck around S, who was standing on my lap and dancing with the music blaring through the PA system, but there was no sign of E. Continue reading “The Gift”

Sanctuary

There was something about the building that made me stop.

I don’t often stop when I’m walking. I walk with a purpose, as all good city folk should, whether I’m making my way to an appointment or just running out to the store. I don’t rush, but I walk quickly, despite having a fairly long stride. I weave through clusters of people as I go, passing on the inside, outside or finding the space between, and I don’t hesitate to walk in the street when the sidewalk becomes too crowded. I glance around at my surroundings from time to time but generally keep my focus on the ground ahead of me so I don’t end up with unexpected surprises on the bottoms of my shoes.

But, that day, I stopped.  Continue reading “Sanctuary”

Red Nails and Pink Legos

It started, as so many important moments do, with a question.

E had been watching television, one seemingly inconsequential kids show or another, when a commercial came on for a Lego model. He said immediately that he wanted to get it and T and I, without batting an eye, said that we would be happy to buy it for him. E smiled broadly, pleased with his instant victory, and resumed watching. After a moment or two, though, he turned back to T and me, his satisfied grin replaced by a look of confusion.

“Why didn’t the commercial show any boys playing with the Legos?” he asked. Continue reading “Red Nails and Pink Legos”

Lego Star Wars and #RoarForChange

“Is Chewbacca going to be there?” he asked, his eyes wide with expectation.

I smiled and shrugged my shoulders.

“We’ll have to wait and see,” I said with a wink.

He smiled back but didn’t ask again. I could tell that he knew to expect to meet the large Wookiee from Star Wars but he was apparently content to let some degree of suspense continue to build.

We held E out of school on Friday. It was May 4th, the unofficial holiday of the Star Wars movie franchise1 and I’d received an invitation to attend an event in Manhattan with Lego and Star Wars. I didn’t give E much more information than that – partially because I wasn’t sure what to expect – but he didn’t ask for much more. He knew that he wasn’t going to school and that he was coming into the city for a special trip with me and that was enough. Continue reading “Lego Star Wars and #RoarForChange”

Putting the Pieces Together

It’s probably an overstatement to say that I loved playing with Legos when I was a kid.1I enjoyed them, to be sure, and I wished at the time that I had more models. I would open the outer package, dump all of the tiny bricks together into the inner box and start building. My eyes would bounce back and forth like tennis balls from the instruction booklet to the box of bricks to find the pieces I needed and back again to complete each step. I would pore over the instructions, making absolutely sure that I had placed the pieces correctly before pressing them together. I would sit, sometimes for hours on end, constructing airplanes, medieval castles and woodland fortresses.

But then I would leave them alone.  Continue reading “Putting the Pieces Together”

RAD Girl Revolution

“You can’t be what you can’t see.”

That’s the slogan for RAD Girl Revolution, a new children’s book created by two mothers from my neighborhood, Sharita Manickam and Jennifer Bruno. Like many modern parents, they were disappointed with traditional portrayals of gender roles in children’s books. It wasn’t just the “knight in shining armor” and “damsel in distress” tales that concerned them; it was the idea that astronauts, fire fighters, business people and a host of other professions were almost always characterized as men. Despite the increasing prevalence of girls empowerment programs across the country and a rising presence of similar slogans on clothing targeted to young girls, Manickam and Bruno kept coming back to the same bottom line: if girls couldn’t point to women in specific roles in society, they would have a much more difficult time visualizing themselves in such a position.  Continue reading “RAD Girl Revolution”

The Unintended Hospital Visit (or, How a Kia Saved My Life)

“Okay, Aaron, here’s your car,” the rental car representative said to me as he gestured toward a maroon sedan in the garage.

I wrinkled my nose a bit as I gave it a quick once-over.

“A Kia? That’s all you’ve got?”

I didn’t know much about cars when I was twenty-four (although, honestly, not much has changed in the ten years since). My knowledge could basically be summed up as, “If it works, great; if it doesn’t, find someone to fix it.”1 The one thing I did know, though, was what I had heard about brand reputations. I knew that foreign-made cars, particularly from Japan or Germany were the “best,” and that American-made cars were generally fine, though not quite as good. I couldn’t have told you exactly what the differences were between the brands or what made one “better” than the other, but I knew what I had heard.  Continue reading “The Unintended Hospital Visit (or, How a Kia Saved My Life)”

Explaining the Walk-Out to a Kindergartener

E had been ready for school for a little while by the time we asked to talk to him.

He was sitting at his homework table, coloring in the small Star Wars coloring book he had gotten as a birthday party favor or as a small treat from Target or some other place that five-year-olds acquire little coloring books. His sneakers were already tied and knotted and his hair was neatly gelled and combed. He was wearing his backpack for some reason, even though he would have to take it off to put his coat on when we were ready to leave.  Continue reading “Explaining the Walk-Out to a Kindergartener”

Shooting From the Hip

“You’re not in trouble,” I reassured him. “I’m just curious.”

E was sitting across the table from me. He was still wearing his pajamas, as he usually is when we eat breakfast, and his hair seemed to think that it was still in bed. His almost-six-year-old face looked nervous, as though he did not believe that I only wanted to talk. He had just started to tear off a new piece of his French toast to dip in the syrup on his plate when I asked the question.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly and took a bite.  Continue reading “Shooting From the Hip”

Fitting In at Dad 2.0 Summit

It had been a warm day.

I had expected the temperature to be higher in New Orleans than at home in New York, but even I was surprised to feel uncomfortable in anything more than a t-shirt. I’d spent the afternoon by myself, making my way through the French Quarter to buy souvenirs for my wife and children before the conference started. I ended up with a fair-sized haul: Mardi Gras masks, a pair of t-shirts and a children’s book for my kids, plus a cookbook and beignet mix for my wife. I was sweating by the time I returned to the hotel because I had been walking quickly, weaving through the other passersby walking slower than me; an hour and a half in the Big Easy was hardly enough to shake my New York City impatience.  Continue reading “Fitting In at Dad 2.0 Summit”

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