a brother's love

I've known a brother's love. I was an older brother. And now I have two sons, and I can see the perspective of each of them. I'd not considered things from my younger bro's point of view growing up. But now my sons are just two years apart and it's a fascinating dynamic. Obviously Joe, five, greatly looks up to his big brother. And naturally, Rylen, all of seven, is typical big brother material - strong, protective, wiser, etc. Recently Joe was acting scared at nighttime. They share a bedroom. Though a big brother of any age somewhat needs his "space", Rylen hopped in bed with Joe, casually, when asked to do so. He did it of love, and without making Joe feel embarrassed or afraid to have asked. Rylen wants his space, but was selfless to recognize a brother's need, however simple. Joe mumbled something about it being the best night ever. A brother's love, quite a massive experience. 

a parent's pride

I'm always proud of my children. I tell them often, be it from doing their math correctly, apologizing when they've done something they shouldn't have, cleaning their room, doing any little minor thing that shows their inner strength and character, anything. But truth is, I'm simply proud of them, always, because they are my sons. They don't have to do anything to earn that. I'm just naturally proud of them. They are truly phenomenal children, phenomenal persons. I don't know if this is from parenting so much. Maybe to an extent. A lot is just the fact that they are truly blessed individuals. Nature, nurture, whatever. Amazing little creatures.

fathers and sons

The bond of father and son, such a fascinating dynamic. Strong meets vulnerable. Times have changed so many - or most - fathers today are far more hands-on than the prior generation. In my boys, I see their mother, my own mother, their uncles - especially my own brother, and I see myself. It's so very fascinating. You want your son to grow up strong, and brave, and honest, with the utmost of character compassion and leadership and dignity and kindness. You want all these things for your son - both sons, in my case. These are things a father must show and not tell. A son watches his father. It's a bit debilitating to think this small person is looking to me for how to behave and think and act. But they are. And same as everything, it's the small things - the casual thank yous, the warm show of affection, the kindness, the patience. It's always the little things that strengthen the wonderful bond of father and son.

weekend, special weekend

Being a working dad, weekends should be and are special. Some are special because of something great or meaningful or extraordinary you've done. Just as phenomenal are the rather ordinary days. The kind of day that you tell a friend what an amazing weekend you've had and they say, oh really, how so and you really don't have a whole lot to say, other it was simply amazing. Simple and amazing, thus simply amazing. Those are intense and divine and soothing and so beautiful. Laughter, stories, softness and love. That's a weekend.

a dad's baseless fears

It takes a totally neurotic lunatic to be a father, I swear. Or maybe that's just me. Every day, every hour I can't help but worry about the most ridiculous things. Don't run in the house, babe, you might fall. Walk slowly down the steps, you might trip and crack your skull and break your teeth and arm and both legs. Don't hit the ball so hard. Chew your food all the way. Don't drink that so quickly. Don't do that. Don't go there. Be careful. Don't move. Exhausting. My job is to protect them. I try. And at 5 and 7 they've never had a serious malfunction or catastrophe. But I live in fear nonetheless. My boys are perfection and I need them to be safe. Still, that fear should remain a father's fear, not the children's. A dad must be extra careful so that the kids can be kids. Gotta cut the cord one of these days. Easier said than done.

losing a tooth, not the good way

My five year old lost his second tooth the other day. He'd lost the first a while back, one of the lower middle ones. The tooth next to it had been loose for quite a while. I never got the whole story from him or his older brother. It must have been done jokingly but the kid took his fist and literally knocked his own loose tooth out. No tears, no arguments, just a five year old knocking out his tooth. Not sure if I should laugh or cry on this one.

bedtime

I do love bedtime with the boys. Usually. Wash up, jammies on. This can take five minutes on a good day, twenty minutes other days. The boys like to "goof off" as they say. Silly stories made up on the fly, tickling is king. Then we settle down with a good book. Chapter books are good but we've been on Shel Silverstein for a while now. Always go back to him, mostly the three classics A Light in the Attic, Where the Sidewalk Ends and Falling Up. Can't go wrong with those. A little back scratch, a little chat about the day and lights out. I hope it's a good way for my children to end the day.

impersonating dad

My seven year old son did a wonderful impersonation of me. It was damn good. Exaggerated, funny, very clever. Kid's amazing. He did a full minute bit on me. Sure, I've given a lot of material to work with - I'm neurotic and all that. The boy poked at my massive disdain of parmesan cheese, my displeasure of the cats, maybe something about vinegar or cake or something. Point is, kids are funny. They're so often fun and funny. Parents need to absorb that and nurture it. Even if there's a little mischief involved. Mischief shows thought and direction. A little fun won't hurt anything. Comedy is underrated.

Playing through the pain

Sure, sometimes we don’t feel like getting down in the floor or grass and playing. We’ve had a hard day, long meetings, ugly traffic, whatever. In the immortal words of that late, great 80’s flick – Best of the Best – “Tape it up!”. Just tape it up, swallow an advil and get to playing. Don’t be a sissy! Playing with the kids is our reward for a hard day's work. It's what we actually look forward to all day. Don't miss it because of whatever kind of day it was. It's such joy to see their faces when daddy gets home from work. They are (almost) always so genuinely happy to see you. Just play. Most likely, you've deserved that innocent joy from them. Enjoy it. And if your head or ankle or pride or shoulder hurts - tape it up!

spanking

I'm not sure how this came to me, but are there any parents who still do this? I know that there are. I've heard lame reasons why it's not abuse and that's all crap. "Spanking". Just call it what it is - abuse. It's beating someone who is smaller. It doesn't teach anything other than fear. I'm all for children learning to respect others, especially their parents. But hitting and the potential of hitting a child is nothing but abuse. And it will never teach respect. If it is discipline the abuser is looking for, there are other ways, and ways that will actually work. Children don't need "spanked". They need love and compassion and patience, and yes, discipline. Spanking is not parenting. It is ignorant and fear-based and cowardly and it is abuse. Hug your child, teach them by example, show them respect and expect it in return. A child is the greatest thing that will ever happen to a parent. Respect and nurture that. Pick on someone your own size.

poetry for children

Reading to your children is a wonderful gift, for parent and child. My oldest son has gotten mildly interested in poetry lately. He knows Daddy likes to write so he asked me to write him a poem. And so I did. Sure it wasn't very good. But it was great joy writing it. I did it that night after he asked. It was a purely fatherly thing to do. I suppose I've never really written something specifically FOR my children. I think it's something I'll continue to do. He hasn't yet read it, I emailed it to him. The bigger joy will be knowing he opened his email and saw his Daddy wrote him a poem. But second to that joy is the feeling of actually doing it. I'd recommend that for any parent.

The wit and wisdom of children

I really need to start writing this stuff down. My boys - six and four - they're all over the place. It's like living with little reality show tykes. They're fascinating. I've forgotten more of their gems of wisdom than I'll ever have on my own. The wit and wisdom of children is the work of dreams and boundlessness. I've really got to  start writing this stuff down. No way can a parent remember much of it. Need to sit, five minutes is all, and jot down - twice daily - little morsels that spew innocent and reckless from their little brains. It makes sense to them. They see it. They're not yet too much like their daddy - bitter and malevolent and constantly searching for an overuse of the word "harbor".