This evening the darling three year old was having some trouble staying in her bed, preferring to be in ours. I convinced her to let me lie down with her and I would sing her a song.
I sang a song at a whispers tone. I sang of her pretty face and beautiful smile, of her big heart and her love for her family. The song felt like it was over until she turned to me and said, "You forgot my hair daddy. My hair is beautiful too."
And so it is. One last verse and off to sleep she went.
More times than I care to remember I have read horrific news articles regarding parents hurting their children in ways, and for reasons, that I cannot even comprehend. It has gotten to the point that I don’t even want to read, hear, or watch the news anymore. I know that these occasions are usually cause for the media vultures to capitalize on and display in the guise of a “News Article”, when all it is meant to do is “appeal” to people’s morbid curiosity. I also know that these events are not that few, or far between.
In this country, did you know that you need to be 18 years old, and meet a slew of other requirements (including some kind of background check) to even be eligible to take an animal home from the local animal shelter? This is to ensure the animal will be placed in a good home, be well taken care of, fed properly, etc., etc., etc. (call your local shelter to check the veracity of these statements). Yet every day, newborns are taken home from hospitals by parents who didn’t want them to begin with, have substance abuse problems, or are simply still children themselves. What chance do these children have? Who are their champions? Sadly, these newborns’ futures are pretty predictable.
Whenever I hear of another sickening story involving the aforementioned I find solace in parenting blogs, albeit a small number. Unfortunately, loving, being proud of, and caring for your children is not nearly as newsworthy as its alternative, otherwise, we’d all be celebrities.
If only all children could have the childhood they all deserve. If only deserving couples who, for whatever reason, are unable to conceive could take over the parenting of unwanted infants children. If only all children’s futures were as important as those of pets. If only.
My wife writes…
It’s horrible to hear about some of the things people do to each other, but even more heartbreaking when the victim is a child; somehow worse still when it’s their own child… These kinds of stories make me want to hold my own children close for a moment and say a little prayer of thanks.
You’re right, it does seem that sometimes we as a society care more these days about treating animals humanely than other humans. I’ve also often thought how ironic it is that you have to get a license to drive a car, after taking required classes that explain how to properly handle one and a test to show that you can do so successfully. Not the case with parenthood, and the end results are so much more important. If only there were some sort of license required to be a parent.
I find it heartening to talk with other people (whether in person or in a forum such as this) who are just trying to be the best parents they can be to children who, thankfully, will never understand exactly how lucky they are.
At 5 months old Daughter#2 just recently graduated to solid foods, and HOLY COW can she put it away!. This little girl not only has 2 hollow legs, but pretty much every appendage is hollow. I guess she gets that from me. 
We started with baby cereal for 5 days and we tried feeding her carrots for the first time just recently. She was not crazy about carrots at first but ended up liking them by the end of her feeding.
True to form, I am behind in the “daddy” aspect of this milestone. I still have not pulled down the old high chair from the attic, and we feed her in her swing. Maybe this weekend (yeah right!).
When feeding time comes I strip the baby down to her diaper and put on a bib. I do this out of necessity as baby food stains are hard to get out. When I started doing this a few days ago my wife laughed and said I used to do the same thing to Son#1 at this stage in his life. We did this so often that when he was around 2 my wife called him to dinner at a family get together and he promptly stripped down to his diaper. I guess we needed to work on his table manners.
Feeding my kids at this age is definitely one of the highlights in life. A time when I feel the worlds problems slip away, if only for a few moments. My biggest responsibility is getting that little spoon into that sweet little mouth. If only life stayed that simple.
Christmas vacation is over, and we just got back from seeing my oldest daughter off at the airport. She’ll be back with my ex-wife within a few hours. We were all up at 4:40am to be at the airport in enough time for a 7:40am departure. Who booked this freakin’ flight anyway!
The trip to the airport was light hearted. The kids were in the back seat, ribbing each other playfully. The drive back was more somber. My wife sat in the back seat with my son, hugging him as he sobbed on the drive home. He misses his sister terribly, and still can’t understand why she chooses to live “there”, instead of with us.
This only is the fourth time daughter #1 has flown by herself. In the past I always called her and counseled her days before her trip; “Make sure to pack enough underwear! Don’t forget your medication! Bring something to read on the plane!” and the list would go on. Before her return trip, I would pack her suitcases, making sure every article of clothing was taking up every bit of space in the suitcase. Yes, I’m anal that way (among other things).
Last night was a big eye opener for me. Before I even told her to, Daughter #1 asked me to “supervise” her packing. I was told, in no nonsense terms, that I could only offer some advice but that she would do the packing herself. I watched as she carefully folded all her clothes neatly in the suitcase, cramming breakable presents and odd shaped items in her spare shoes, and she even made a list of things not to forget in the morning – toothbrush, charging IPOD, jacket in the dryer………
Who was this young lady, and what did she do with my scatter-brained, sloppy, little girl? This was totally out of character. She was methodical and meticulous. She’s definitely growing up, and growing up well despite the instability at her other home I might add.
Knowing the chaotic nature of her everyday life, this sudden revelation (or insight) has given me a sense of peace. She showed responsibility, and increasing maturity during this visit. Although she looks, talks, and smells just like her, this young adult was definitely a different person from the one that came to visit last year. I think she’s going to be just fine.
As we stood in a tight embrace at the airport I told her how proud I was of her, and how much I loved her. Although we’re just a little more accustomed to it at this point, the ache and emptiness during her absence will always be there.
I am the oldest of two and my little man is the youngest of our three. Sometimes I have trouble understanding him. He will do things to raise the pulse rate in his siblings (and me) with regularity. My wife reminds me that people look for attention in different ways, I wish he would pick a different way.
He is a very bright young man with an amazing energy. Even though he can really wind me up like a cheap toy, he gives me a gift on a regular basis. Whenever we are walking together he will reach for my hand and I take it and hold on tight. This simple act of holding my hand is a great gift. I think it means (without saying a word) I trust you and love you.
So the next next time your little one, or your wife, reaches for your hand grab it and hold on tight and tell them you love them too.
I think of myself as being pretty stoic most of the time. I distance myself from pain, suffering and heartache and put on this stone facade for the rest of the world to see. This facade came crumbling down last Thursday when my newest child was born.
My wife was in the middle of induced labor while I thought silently to myself “Please, let it be a boy!”. I have gone through too much emotional ups and downs with daughter #1 that I really didn’t want a repeat of all those years of heartburn.
I watched in awe as the baby’s head crowned. I noticed that the umbilical cord was coming out at the same time as the baby’s head. Having first hand experience with these types of births this worried me greatly. You see my sister was born with her umbilical wrapped tightly around her neck. As a result of being deprived of oxygen for 10 minutes she suffers from brain damage. She is in her late 30s but acts like she’s 9. She still lives with my mother, who’s in her 70s.
The doctor called for an emergency team to assist with the potentially dangerous situation. Not only was there a problem with the umbilical cord, but the baby’s shoulders were stuck in the birth canal at an awkward angle. Double jeopardy. One of the nurses that were called in to assist balled her fist and pushed down on my wife’s abdomen as hard as she could and the baby was expelled forcefully into the doctor’s waiting hands. After collecting all of the baby in his hands he gingerly set the baby on my wife’s chest and asked me if I wanted to cut the cord. I wanted no part of it. I just wanted the baby safe, and out of harms way.
It wasn’t until after the baby was cleaned up, Apgar scores taken, and other miscellaneous, and sundry procedures that we found out we had a 7.7 lb, 20.5inch, healthy baby GIRL. Girl#2, for those of you keeping track.
At this point my wall came crumbling down, and my knees went weak. I know I said I wanted a boy, but I would not trade her in for the world. She was wrinkled, purple, messy……and BEAUTIFUL! I whispered “I love you” to my exhausted wife, my voice was cracking. Needing to keep the crumbling machismo wall from toppling over completely, I carefully stepped away from the tangle of IV drips and monitoring cables, and dutifully snapped photo after photo through the tears (mine, not hers).
Girl#2 is several days old now and doing fantastic. Someone told me that she would have me wrapped around her little finger. I laughingly said “Yeah, right!”. Those little fingers are pretty small, so I am now in the process of learning how to limber up my vertebrae for the impending finger wrapping. I’d hate to get a cramp.
We try to get to Chicago once a year. We live in a small town and it is a real treat to see the “big city”. Last year we took the family (my wife and our three children) and stayed right downtown next to the John Hancock building! The boys and I went to a Cubs game and my wife and daughter went shopping. A great trip.
This year was different, a friend gave me 4 Cubs tickets and my wife and I were planning to go with some friends. Fall has become very busy at our house (3 children and 3 children involved in sports) and it looked like I was not going to be able to use the tickets. My wife said find some buddies and go. It was hard (all of my friends are in the same position)but I found an old friend and we made our plans.
No kids, no spouses woo hoo! Old friends out on the town, watching baseball and living it up! Well that lasted about 7 minutes, when we pulled up to the hotel (that we had booked on line and never seen before) my first thought was “my wife would love this place!” I began to miss her.
We headed for the ball park and decided to take the “L” (elevated train) and as we made our way to the busy platform I instinctively held out my hand for my children to grab and I panicked a little when I looked around and they were not there. I began to miss them.
My friend and I had a good time, but to me nothing compares with sharing special things with your family, these are the things that you will talk about for years to come… take them with you to share the world together.
Here you will find content from a couple of different voices around what it means to be Dad.
Successes, failures and those times we are just trying to keep them from hating us
