Author: abetterfather

A working father. Vegan for health, environmental and animal safety reasons and being a good example to my daughter. Reading, learning, trying to be the best parent I can be. Posted. Not Perfect.

I was just about ready to…

I was just getting ready to sit down with a glass of wine (maybe some popcorn) and watch someone else’s creative output.  They do the work, i sit and do nothing except passively absorb.  Then i remembered this conversation with my daughter today:

“Dad?  Do you know why i don’t like airplanes?”  “Um, no, why?”  “Because they are just like TV.  You just sit there doing nothing and you can’t move.”

So, i have my glass of wine.  I haven’t made popcorn.  I’ve been wanting to start a podcast.  An app has made it so easy to do.  You literally don’t have to do anything other than talk into the app and then post it.

Speaking of listening to podcasts.  I listened to one recently and it was about writing and motivation.  I was thinking how i always thought i wanted to be a writer.  Well, the person being interviewed made a really good point.  He said, “Do you want to be a writer?  Are you writing?  Have you been writing?  Or do you sit around talking about wanting to write and be a writer?  Then you don’t want to be a writer.”

The act of doing makes you a writer.  I’ve also read and heard about people wanting to become comic book writers or artists and what it takes to become one.  Then i heard a panel at a comic book convention.  The writer said make a comic.  Whatever it is.  Subject?  Length?  What kind of art?  It doesn’t matter.  Put pen to paper.  Put fingers to keys.  Make it.  Print it out and you are a comic book creator.  What do you want to do from there?  That’s what seperates people.

Just becoming a comic book creator is easy.  Just becoming a writer is easy.  Just becoming a podcaster is easy.  Yet, so few do these things.  So few take a first step to forge the path.

I’m still trying to figure out what i want to do with this.  What i want it to become.  So, i guess by the things i just wrote, i’m a writer.  Maybe not a lot.  Maybe not often enough.  Maybe frequently wrapped in my own self-pity.  Maybe words that mean little past the 1/2 a second after the key strokes passes.  Yet, that’s exactly what makes me a writer.  The 1/2 a second from nothing to a word resting just beyond the keystroke.  Now, do it again.  And again.  And again.  With that said,  I’m going to stop this now.

I’ve always wanted to be a podcaster.  So, now i will.

The Week That Wasn’t

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My daughter woke up sick last Tuesday. That pretty much put my whole week off. By pretty much, I mean it did. It did give me time to reflect on my situation as a stay-at-home-dad (in a not great marriage).
 
I spent everyday grateful for being home with her. I couldn’t figure out how people that don’t have that option would do it. What do people do that don’t get days off? Have no where to put their child? No family or friends near by to help? The saying, “it takes a village” comes from situations like this. There are moments people can do this alone. That people don’t need someone else to help or be a part of raising their child. As near as I can tell, that’s somewhere between 1-5% of the time. Every other time? You need people to be a part of helping to raise your child.
 
I didn’t have to juggle her around. I didn’t have to lose money to do what was best for her. I didn’t have to send her to school sick. Making other kids sick, or herself worse. She slept when she needed to. She cuddled when she wanted to. She was able to enjoy the lows of doing nothing, and the bursts of energy to play and do something. She didn’t have someone yelling at her. She didn’t have to sit in an office alone waiting for someone to show up. She didn’t have to feel alone or scared. Because dad was there. She was able to recover at her pace and not prolong the experience of feeling like crap.
 
I am so grateful for that. It makes me sad to think of those who don’t get to do that.
 
On the reverse side. I am human and we were in the house, locked up, for a week. Losing one’s mind might link to situations like this. It’s a guilty feeling for having the privilege of doing this and wanting to claw my way out at a certain point(s). Her mother was gone for the week. So, it was her and me and the walls closing in. Every minute of sleep, past the normal time, was a minute of thanks. Bedtime was a countdown that started shortly after waking.
 
When she sleeps at night, that’s normal. There’s no worry associated with that. Even when she’s sick. I put her to bed. I check on her before going to bed myself. Tuck her back in. Scoot her over a little. Turn off or on her fan, depending on the weather. Shut her door and done for the night.
 
Here’s the thing about your kid sleeping during the day and past her normal bedtime. It freaks you out. The amount of brain power that goes into worry keeps you from doing other things. I kept checking on her to make sure she was breathing, but not wanting to check on her to risk waking her up. You can’t get invested in anything to in-depth, because you don’t know how much time you have. I was like a zombie wandering around the house. Doing random things, but not doing anything of consequence.
 
Piecing together moments of this or that. Less social interaction than normal (which is about 1-2%, now .5 to 0%). Reading more stories in six days than in the last 3 months. That when the actual “me time” finally arrived at night, there wasn’t anything left to do anything. It was a mental shutdown. I didn’t even feel like reading. Her mother wasn’t calling to make me feel better. Everyone I know is an hour ahead, or living their own lives. Not to mention, what would I say? I didn’t nothing but read. I have nothing to say.
 
Stranded on a desert island. Floating alone in the salt water, with no water onboard. It was along week. Then, as already mentioned, the guilt of feeling these feelings, while getting to be there for a sick child. Feeling as alone as you can feel, while being grateful for feeling that way. I’d be lying if I said anything other than last week broke me a little.
 
Now, it’s Monday and I’m sitting in a Starbucks, BECAUSE I CAN’T BE HOME RIGHT NOW! There are at least three flies driving me insane, but there’s no where else to go. Plus, I’m only here because I happened to have $9.36 on my Starbucks card, so it feels like this trip didn’t cost me anything.
 
There is a borderline of this feeling like self-pity. It’s not, though. It’s the reality of this situation. Of life in general. The yin and the yang. There is no one… thing? feeling? situation?
 
The last two sentences were deleted. This is dragging past the original intent, but its needed for what it did for me. So, this will be end of this writing, before the whole thing goes boom.

My List of Ten, because he did… :)

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The ten most important things I have learned since having a child.
 
The List:
1. Kiss often. Hug often.
2. Touch. Tickle. Hold hands. Carry. Pick up.
3. Read, instead of watch.
4. Say “I Love You” often.
5. Write things down, or record things. It’s not an easy thing to remember to do, or do, but find the time to do it.
6. Interact with your child whenever you can. Talk. Sing. Laugh. Dance. Play. Wrestle. Roll around. Stumble.
7. Be better. Teach your child through your actions. They are watching you. Be aware of who you are and who you are helping / teaching them to be.
8. Laugh, don’t yell. Talk, don’t yell. Smile, don’t yell. Ask, don’t tell. Present, don’t demand. Suggest, don’t force.  Teach, don’t scold.
9. Get a photo or two, or a video or two. Then put your phone down and away.
10. Be aware. Our time is finite.
We don’t know a minute from now, or a year from now.
I can expand on these later as to my thoughts around why these ten.  For now, I just thought I’d get them out into the world.

Quick Reads 1

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I want to start adding less drawn out content on this site.  For instance, today I will be posting a couple of the resources I’ve used in the past and present to help make the choices during this process of having a child.  It’s just resources.  I like to read and figure out what works best for my daughter’s personality, sound science and what makes the most sense in a given situation.  There are fall backs I use all the time, again things to post later in a Quicks Reads down the road.

In the interest of keeping this from getting to big.  Here are a couple of websites and books I’ve read so far:

Books:

Helping Children succeed:  What Works and Why by Paul Tough

The Blue Zone Solution:  Eating and Living Like the World’s Healthiest People by Dan Buettner

The Whole-Brain Child: 12 Revolutionary strategies to nurture your child’s developing mind, survive everyday parenting struggles, and help your family thrive by Tina Payne Bryson, Daniel J. Siegel

Websites:

American Academy of Pediatrics: https://www.aap.org/en-us/Pages/Default.aspx

Healthy Children: https://www.healthychildren.org/English/Pages/default.aspx

A none to checked ramble.

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I started writing here to record my thoughts around parenting. In the hope that someday someone might stumble on it and get something from it. It’s purpose was to provide thoughts and guidance around parenting. Tips and tricks learned and discovered.
 
Another reason was to start writing. To give me purpose outside of the daily routines of the life I now live. To grease the wheels stuck in on unfamiliar road. Looking for, or trying to create, a purpose for me, outside of being a stay at home parent.
 
It’s easy to get consumed by the person we are becoming and lose aspects of the person we were. The pieces that formed the person we use to see in the mirror. Before someone mattered more to us than our tiny little brains could grasp.
 
It would be easy to fall into a rabbit hole of want-to-be-deep thoughts. Trying hard to wax poetic on being a parent and the trial and tribulations. The ups and downs of marriage and choices and decisions. Of a child that sees in you the world. Full stop. There are better people than I out there. Better people that may not feel the pressure in such a way. Trying to be better. To stand taller. Simply, trying to talk better. I’m sure there are those that struggle more than I do.
 
There is no one size that fits all for anything. I got to live my life for me. My way. Unencumbered by the responsibilities of a person that needs you. NEEDS. YOU. Now, you do what you think is right. To try and figure it out. You hope you are doing right by this little person. Only to learn you are not. There is always a knick in the armor and something gets missed. There is no way to have it all. There is no everything.
 
The problem isn’t that there is no everything. It’s accepting there is no everything. Then, finding a way to be okay with that. One of the hardest moments in our lives is the moment we learn our parents are not parents. That’s a label given.
 
Our parents are human. Flawed. Selfish. Broken. Happy. Fun. Normal average everyday humans. People trying to make it through the day same as everyone not a parent. Same as everyone with whatever label they may have. I almost wrote, “Whatever label they may be”. Are we the labels given? Do we become what someone says we are? Whether we want to or not? Whether we try to are not?
 
What labels can you walk away from? What labels are you because someone else says you are that thing? Why do we cling to labels? I am me. I am I. There is nothing more there. Call me what you will. Say what you will. Label as you will. A flawed person trying to make it from one day to the next.
 
And never have I felt more flawed than when becoming a parent. For a time working hard not to show those flaws. Being flawed now hurts or affects another person. My flaws existed in a self-contained world. Now, those flaws bleed into the development and life of another.
 
Closing mind wander:
Counting Crows, A Murder Of One: You don’t wanna waste your life. I walk along these hillsides in the summer ‘neath the sunshine. I am feathered by the moonlight falling down on me. Change. Change. Change.

Dad, you need a haircut.

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Learned behavior
 
This morning my daughter cuddled up in bed with me and said, “Daddy, you need a haircut”. At first, this seems random. Also true. Then I remembered saying this yesterday. When she asked me what I was going to do while she was in school, I told her get a haircut.
 
This lingered during the rest of the morning, until getting to write this. The impact of such a small, insignificant thing. This now influenced her suggesting what daddy needed to do.
 
This is also an important lesson in the words we use and the things we say every moment of every day. I have long known that we can influence our daily lives by telling and repeating a story over and over. We can convince ourselves of (almost) anything if repeated and reinforced enough. Science has proven this to be true. An example article: https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/02/27/why-facts-dont-change-our-minds
 
How we talk and what we talk. What we do matters. The tone of our voices, the looks on our faces. Our ways of communicating and interacting with children is important and long lasting. There is research and stories of the negative effects of yelling and bad words on children.
 
Yet, you don’t always hear about the impact of everyday words. The impact we, as adults, parents, or caregivers can have on laying a proper foundation. Instead of telling a child they are “smart”, tell them how hard they worked to achieve the outcome. The concept of smart means nothing. It doesn’t build anything. It doesn’t connect to anything tangible. When you tell them how hard they worked to complete the task, they can connect the doing to the completing. Though, you may have to and should help them understand how hard they worked. Explain the outcome and the steps in a conversation. It’s another way to build an understanding that they did do this “thing” because they actually did it. And it’s another way to connect and bond with them with good conversation.
 
The next time they are trying to complete a task, they now have an understanding of what it takes to complete it. We build and enforce
behaviors. An example is counting. Instead of knowing the number 4, show how he/he gets to number 4. Count it out. Roll a dice and figure out what number it is by counting the number, not “knowing” the number. There is a point when they will know the number 4 on site. Yet, build the skills to get to number 4. Don’t be happy they recoginze the number 4 on site.
 
This all started with a cuddle and a needed haircut. I’ve found nothing is that simple. Every interaction is something on some level. Not every interaction needs to be addressed in such a complex way, of course. I do like to give a little nod or thought, though to those moments. Even if only quick and silent to myself.
 

Batter UP!

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After the last blog, there was a challenge that morning. My daughter got upset about her breakfast. She sometimes does this scream when she’s upset that gets louder and louder. The more you try to interact with her, and not give her exactly what she wants, the louder it gets.
 
I meant to write this the next day, so it was fresh in my mind. I didn’t get around to it. Then, yesterday, we had a similar thing with lunch. I made her something she likes, something she sometimes eats and was melting cheese on it.
 
That wasn’t good enough. She wanted the cheese right from the bag. I told her she needed more than cheese to eat for lunch. Then, things went sideways. (That’s the word I use with her when things go bad. I didn’t want to use a “negative” word, or a word with negative connotations. So, I started using “sideways” as a way to describe these situations. I don’t want her to feel bad for having emotions, or think it’s not okay to get upset from time to time.) I tried my best to keep an even tone. When you are getting screamed at for 30 minutes, 10 minutes in at this point, it can be difficult to stay rational. I told her this was the food I made her and it was her choice to eat it or not. Then, I kept repeating this. Over and over and over.
 
I find that if I stray from a pre-recorded response, I can start to get caught up in the upset situation. Then, start adding to it in a negative way.
 
These moments are difficult. My “home life”, added to the daily duties of caring for a toddler, no adult interaction, and no real outlet, takes it tole. This was one of those moments. It’s up to the adult to care for the child. Which is another conflicted struggle. Do, I let her cry? I wasn’t going to give in at this point, because I felt it would send the wrong message. It’s hard to no where to draw a line when she’s this upset. Knowing the reason why, and still controlling my reaction.
 
I used “positive” words, but stayed firm on the food message (this is what I made, etc.). She escalated. Then, I told her every time I talk, you get more upset. So, i’m going to stop talking, but I’m not going anywhere.
 
I was struggling at this point. I was getting caught up. I didn’t want to get screamed at any more. So, with water in hand, I sat at the table. She went into the closet in our living room, which is now her new “play area” so not some weird closet thing. She took some time to herself.
 
After cleaning up from the pretty much uneaten lunch, and a few minutes of time to herself, I approached her. I was melting ice from the freezer and asked if she wanted to see it. She did. Then we watched the ice melt. Then, I took a couple minutes to talk about what had happened. She was still upset. So, it was a quick talk about why she got upset. Why I didn’t give in. And asked if she wanted to eat anything from her lunch. She did not. Then we got ready to go.
 
The hardest part of all this: I have no freaking clue the best way to handle any of it. My fall back is not to yell, but I do raise my voice from time to time. To try and keep an even tone, even when not remaining on the calm side. Then, try and find a balance of giving her space and time. Talking about what happened. And not making her feel abandoned or bad for getting upset. Then, I think about the baggage we carry around from our own childhood and lives.
 
 

Why wait?

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There is no “right time” to have a child. No matter when you do, there will be challenges. In most cases you could always have more time, more money, a better relationship. You will read a story in five years you wish you had read six year ago. Doctors will learn some new information that makes you feel horrible and angry.
 
Everyday you will face a new challenge. Like everyone else, except these challenges involves a child. A child that looks up to you for answers you may not have. I have learned so much about how much I do not know in the last four years.
 
Yesterday, an email from Upworthy.com arrived in my in box. It was about a father that lost his son at three years of age. He was reading to his older daughter one night, when he finally had to write down some of his thoughts from his loss.
 
 
I have provided the link above. My thoughts below.
 
The last four years had struggles to do many of the things Mr. Pringle has outlined in his post. Because, far to often in this life we take things for granted. We take our lives for granted, not to mention the lives of every person around us. Then tragedy strikes and we snap to. For a minute or two.
 
(A side memory. When 9/11 happened, I told my friend Dani that people are going to be nice to each other for two days. I wasn’t being cynical. That’s about all we have capacity for. Before going back to being selfish and self focused. I saw people taking an extra second to hold open a door. People looking each other in the eyes. People acknowledging one another. Then, two days later, status quo. It was heartbreaking to be right.)
 
We don’t like to live in a world where there might not be a tomorrow. We ignore this on a grand scale. I read a random article that “religious people” on Facebook post about family and friends. Atheists post about death (and something else, it was a stupid article, but I was curious enough to check it out). They were making the point that the religious people are better (?), i guess. Because we are so scared of talking about death, that you must be bad to do it. It was dumb, but we ignore death in our society.
 
My point being, and this may be because I became a father at an older age, that I worry about the no tomorrow. It’s helped guide my parenting. For better or worse. “What if the last thing I say or do to do my daughter IS the last thing I say or do to my daughter?”
 
So, I play more than I don’t. I read to her with her in my lap, instead of putting her in front of the TV and walking away. I tell her I love her daily and kiss her feet and arms and head and cheek. As often as I can throughout the day. I let the mess ago longer than I should, worrying I’m missing out on a lesson to teach her to clean-up after herself. I turn the other cheek at an indiscretion, because i’m not sure the best way to handle it. I would rather let the random thing go, then raise my voice at my own frustration of how to handle a situation. There are so many more examples. I’ll leave it at this for now.
 
I am allowed these privileges, because the mother of my daughter makes enough that I get to stay home. I do not take this for granted. I do not judge others for what they do, or do not do with their kids. Though, at points I have. At points I still do, but I try to be better.
 
The point of all this, don’t wait for the tragedy to happen. Don’t have to have a late night regret post, or lessons learned from your loss. Take advantage of the moments you have now. Go kiss your son or daughter or wife or best friend or parent. I don’t agree with everything Mr. Pringle wrote, or the way he wrote it, but it’s his list from his loss. Make your list, before your loss. Write ten things you will do to be a better parent today. Think of the loss before the loss and what you would have wanted to do or be. It’s not morbid, it will keep you present. Death happens. It’s going to happen. Don’t regret. We are advanced animals, that can process and think. Yet, so often we choose to ignore this about ourselves.
 
After writing this, I am going to make my list and post it here as my next writing. Because I am aware loss will happen. I am not going to wait to think about what I wish I had done with my daughter and family. I am going to write about what I am going to do with my daughter and family. Today is mine, even if there is no tomorrow. I will feel the loss, I will not feel the regret.

Stop and smell the flowers

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It’s a simple thing. When riding her bike, or walking in our neighborhood, or anywhere, to be honest. My daughter stops to pick a dandelion, or six. She wants to smell the flowers and say how nice they smell. She wants to gently touch flowers and comment on how beautiful they are.
 
It’s so easy to want to rush her, or push her, or “keep her moving”. We have an agenda, whatever it may be that day, and that agenda must maintained. Yet, does it? It’s a constant reminder to not make her into “us”. When was the last time I stopped to smell the flowers, or acknowledge how beautiful they were?
 
When was the last time I got out of a car, or jumped off a bike, or stopped running? Walked over, bent down and took a few minutes to smell the flowers? This is a daily acknowledgement of her. A daily thing to observe and take in the world around her. She’s connecting with nature and I’m fighting the urge to force her to move faster to get… where?
 
Now, there are times we have places to go and things to get done. Times I need to redirect and keep her focused on the task at hand. It’s not as often as you would think, though.
 
It feels we are always putting children in our bubble. Forcing them into a perspective we’ve developed over the years. Taking the all the good and all the bad, not really anyazlying which is which, and then putting them into it. There needs to be distance between us and them for them to figure it out.
 
When my daughter climbs, or jumps, or tries new things, she would often ask for help. A normal and natural thing. She would ask to hold my hand, or some other form of help. From things I’d read I started telling her, “I’ll spot you, but you have to try it on your own.” The goal was for her to use her own power, her own strength, her own abilities to move forward, or pull herself up. Yet, know that were she to fall, or worried she would fall, dad would be there.
 
Then when she had the confidence to know she could do it, she wouldn’t need me. Which, may be the best and hardest part of being a parent. The “I can do this on my own”. I don’t need you. Awesome. You don’t need me? Awesome?
 
Could it be she’s doing the same thing with me? She’ll stop and smell the flowers at every chance, until she no longer needs to spot me. I have yet to tell her to get off her bike and come over and smell the flowers. I let her do it nearly everytime she wants, but she’s still spotting me.