Tonight I Failed You

Dear E,

I owe you an apology.

Today was rough for me. The details are not really important; suffice it to say that I struggled with a number of things throughout the day. I struggled so much, in fact, that I apparently did a very poor job of hiding the anger and frustration that I was feeling. I say “apparently” because a number of coworkers asked me how I was doing and what was wrong. Keeping a calm exterior, regardless of how I’m feeling inside, is a skill at which I’m usually fairly adept,1 so I think I caught my peers somewhat off guard when my fingers kept drumming on my desk and when I kept getting up to wander around the room or down the hallway to the conference table. The usually light-hearted quips for which I’ve become known were nowhere to be found. Half-smiles and annoyed sarcasm had taken their place and would not give up their new positions. I was still fairly quiet, as I usually am, but my pursed lips and constant fidgeting hinted at the discomfort I was feeling inside.  Continue reading “Tonight I Failed You”

Bedtime

The room is dark.

The lamps on the street below cast vague shadows onto the walls of the room. The windows from the building across the street reflect the alternating red, yellow and green from the traffic light at the corner, while the white security light shines brightly on the sidewalk. The bushes in front of the building still blink with tiny dots of orange Christmas lights even though it is the middle of January. A car’s headlights throw shapes onto the wall that move across the room as it drives by.  Continue reading “Bedtime”

Let the Potty Training Commence

Peer pressure is a wonderful thing.

Okay, fine; most of the time it’s not. Usually peer pressure is associated with the “bad” kids in school egging on one of the “good” kids to do a “bad” thing. They’re trying to get him to cut class or drink alcohol or smoke pot or break into the teacher’s desk or a host of other “bad” things. In those cases, peer pressure is not wonderful; it’s harmful and, usually, dangerous for at least one of the people involved.

Thankfully, E is only two and a half, so we don’t have to worry about that stuff just yet. Which is why, in our case, peer pressure is a wonderful thing.  Continue reading “Let the Potty Training Commence”

A Hanukkah Poem

‘Twas the month before Hanukkah
The leaves had been turning
Though it should have been cold
The weather was burning.1

Thanksgiving had passed
Black Friday came and went
We avoided buyer’s remorse
Despite the money we spent.

But the music had started
(A bit later, to be fair)
The onslaught of Christmas
Could be felt in the air.  Continue reading “A Hanukkah Poem”

Forever Young

Dear E,

This morning, when you woke up,1 you asked to watch Sesame Street on television while you ate breakfast. As I scrolled through the DVR, you suddenly changed your mind and asked for Peter Pan instead. This wasn’t the Disney cartoon movie; this was the live performance that NBC aired a week or two ago, even though their first foray into the live musical realm, The Sound of Music, was a colossal flop. Peter Pan might have been slightly better, but not significantly. You have your parents’ genes, though, which means that you’re drawn to musical performances and, since you seemed to enjoy Peter Pan, we kept it for you.  Continue reading “Forever Young”

The Toy Takeover

Our apartment is getting smaller by the day.

I’m speaking metaphorically, of course. The walls aren’t actually closing in little by little but it feels like E’s toys are occupying more space in our living room than ever before. Even when the room is clean and everything is put where it’s supposed to be, I can see that there is less and less floor space showing between the rug and the row of toys against the wall. Last night we were sitting and watching television and I could have sworn I saw Elmo smirking at me.  I could practically hear him whispering, “Don’t let Elmo’s cute face and high voice fool Aaron. Elmo wants Aaron’s apartment and Elmo will use force if necessary.”  Continue reading “The Toy Takeover”

Happy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is a weird holiday.

The story goes like this. A group of people left their homes and got on a boat to brave the open sea in order to find religious freedom. On the way, a few of them died, a few caught diseases (and then died later) and everyone had a generally miserable time. Then they made it to Plymouth Rock and had to fend for themselves against the animals and elements in wholly unfamiliar territory. Somewhere along the line, we’re told, the people who had been living there all along welcomed the newcomers, showed them how to grow maize and gave them other hints for staying alive in their new environment. Oh, and everybody got together on Thursday to kill a turkey, eat themselves into food comas and watch the Detroit Lions lose a bunch of football.  Continue reading “Happy Thanksgiving”

“Daddy Lives Work!”

Dear E,

I’m writing this to you the day before Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement. I wrote a little about Yom Kippur in my last blog post but something else happened this week for which I have to apologize before the “holiday”1 starts tonight.

You and I eat breakfast together almost every morning. I wake up, come out of the bedroom to shower and start getting ready for work, and you usually wake up just as I’m finishing getting dressed. Your eyes squint as they adjust to the light in the kitchen and you half-walk/half-stagger over to me. You look up and ask, “Daddy bowl hereal?” I smile and ask what you would like for breakfast. Your usual choices are cereal or the frozen mini pancakes that I can pop in the microwave, though sometimes you also have the option of French toast. You chose cereal on this particular morning, though, so you helped me pour the Honey Nut Cheerios into your bowl, we added the milk and I gave you two spoons.2 We sat down together at your little red table and started eating.  Continue reading ““Daddy Lives Work!””

The First Day

E started school this week.

It’s not a long program; three days per week, for three hours each day, and they’re only doing two hours for the first month to help the kids adjust. It’s a program for two-year-olds, after all, and most of the kids are attending an organized school program for the first time. Still, we wanted to make sure E was ready. We’d spoken with a few other preschool parents and our new principal and heard a mix of stories about their kids making the transition to school. Some kids cry for a minute and then go into the class and are fine. Some walk into the classroom and barely remember to say goodbye to their parents. And some kids blow out their vocal chords from screaming too hard.  Continue reading “The First Day”

One Day At A Time

Learning has always been enjoyable for me. I like understanding why things are the way they are, although, to be honest, I’ve always been more drawn to the theoretical arguments as opposed to the practical ones. For instance, I don’t care very much about the ways that the hydraulics and various mechanical parts of an airplane work. I’d much rather have a discussion about the ethical uses of airplanes in warfare or why people need to fly in the first place. I generally approach machinery with my grandfather’s attitude: if it works, great. If not, you find someone to fix it.1

I’ve always wondered about deeper questions, though. What are we doing here? Why is there pain? Is there a God? Is there a right or a wrong way to live? Why is it important to treat people with respect? Does anything really matter, one way or the other?  Continue reading “One Day At A Time”

Verified by MonsterInsights