I often wonder why someone has a child

to control them

or

to set them free

6-11-2021 Kara Swisher, on the Pivot podcast, summed up my views with technology and our children, “There’s not a single tech company I trust with my children”.

Yet, this happens all the time. Screens are used to calm, entertain, “educate”, and babysit our children. If the worst, most unpredictable person you can think of showed up at your door and offered to watch your children, the cops would be called.

So, why do we let them into our homes for free? Why do we take technology, that is proving to make our children more anxious and depressed, and pay them be in our homes?

There is a bigger debate here. A more in depth discussion to be had. This is not something to take lightly or let happen or not happen, because of where, because of how we live today. I just don’t think we are having the conversation. And the think the babysitter wants to get paid.

This has been a great resource for information: https://commercialfreechildhood.org/screen-free-week/.

Nothing was learned

one those stairs

through those tears

except

you

thought me

weird

Taking my daughter to her first overnight camping trip. First bump encountered. Back home. Then back out. More to come.

Tsundoku (Japanese: 積ん読) is acquiring reading materials but letting them pile up in one’s home without reading them.^[1][2][3][4] It is also used to refer to books ready for reading later when they are on a bookshelf.

The term originated in the Meiji era (1868–1912) as Japanese slang.^[5] It combines elements of tsunde-oku (積んでおく, to pile things up ready for later and leave) and dokusho (読書, reading books). As currently written, the word combines the characters for “pile up” (積) and the character for “read” (読). There are suggestions to include the word in the English language and in dictionaries like the Collins Dictionary.^[5]

The American author and bibliophile A. Edward Newton commented on a similar state in 1921.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tsundoku

A Vegan Father… justifying actions, looking for excuses.

Posted. Not Perfect.

If you ask someone what they want for their child some will say a version of, “to be happy, to be healthy, to have what they need, to find love, to have a good job…” etc.  My answer?  No clue.  That is up to her. She will choose her path.  My job is help build, provide, show her the tools she will need to navigate this world.  My wants for her have nothing to do with what she may want for herself. My mistakes with her have a negative impact only if I do not follow up on and talk about the negative emotions, or embarrassment, or pain.

Push do not shove.  Guild do not make them follow.  Stand and wait. Do not make them come.  Provide.  Do not force.  We can do more with less, only defined by someone else saying x is more and y is less.  Do not take control.  Provide the means for them to have control.

My ego is not contingent upon an 8-year-old doing what I say.  Why behave as if it does?

A Vegan Father… being an example.

Posted. Not Perfect.

At what point do we start teaching girls their exterior is not enough?  At what point does the previous generation start teaching girls they need makeup to be pretty?

I dated a girl in my twenties.  She was sweet, kind, smart.  5’7”, blonde and wore her makeup well.  Beautifully.  As a mask? To hide?  I had seen her without makeup after dating awhile.  She was stunningly beautiful without it.  She refused to go outside without makeup.  Once she agreed to go to Target without makeup on.  Walking in, we held hands as tightly as a child going on a roller coaster for the first time.

Thinking about that moment this morning, her need to wear makeup to go outside the house, turned to thoughts about my daughter.  Of people that comment how pretty she is.  They are right.  She is very pretty.  (For the record, I do not think you should tell a child such things.)  Yet, when will those people start telling her she is not enough and needs makeup?  When will society tell her she needs foundation and whatever else* to be pretty?  At what point does it go from “you are pretty” to “you’ll need *this* to be pretty”?  Why the need for “pretty” at all?

She is 8.  How much time does she have?  In a world where there is no right answer.  What happens next.  Many times, I was called ignorant about raising a child.  Are there times when ignorance can be a positive?  A tool to be harnessed?  I know nothing about makeup and its applications.  The girls I have dated, while appreciating times to get dolled up, did not need makeup, in my opinion.  There is a concern of the time when society, or people close to her, say it is time to start wearing make-up. Based on?  I do not know.

I read once kids stop coloring, drawing, creating around the age of 8.  Why?  People stop giving positive reinforcement.  They stop complimenting their art.  We  inadvertently tell our children it is time to put away “childish things”.  They take the signal and fall in line.  (That is wrong, for the record, but a conversation for another time.)  When is the time for make-up?  When will she be told she needs something more?  That, now is the time to “mask up”.

My ignorance with such things can be a tool.  A feature, not a flaw.  My daughter will never hear from me, “it is time to put on a mask”.  Except to play.  She tells stories about watching her mom putting on makeup. Somehow, we have made it a positive cliché for a daugther to stand next to a mom and put on makeup beside her.  A rite of passage. A moment in movies and magazine covers.

Many of my thoughts and ideas around parenting, by others, has been mocked and criticized.  Made fun of, while trying to be a good father.  When you have no one to talk to, you keep doing what feels right.  My daughter, she is enough.  At some point she will be told she is not.  History is littered with those that were told, at an early age, they are not enough.  The repercussions are long lasting.  They impact a child’s future as a person in the world. The best of intentions does not buffer those harmed by the implications of those not willing to upend tradition for progress. 

With that said, this was created as a question lingering in the recesses of my mind.  Then,  finding a home here.  The girl mentioned above was not pushed when she shared her fear of going out without makeup.  I tried to make her feel loved and supported enough to go out without needing it.  Never knowing why it was that way for her.  Maybe we should have spoken more about it.  Tried to understand better.  That is the lesson not learned.

That said, this may be all wrong.  There may be something missed by a straight, white male.  There may be gaps in how and why to handle situations with makeup differently.  Misogyny for one.  There may be a bigger conversation to have.  It is okay if this starts the conversation.  Please, do not judge if this is totally off base and exactly what is wrong with this moment in society.  Let us have the conversation.  It comes from a place of caring.  Even if it turns out to be misguided caring.

A Vegan Father… who looked really good in high school with makeup on during a play.

Posted. Not Perfect.

*”Whatever else” being all the makeup stuff I know nothing about.

Around the age of 12, my father took me to a water park.  He had not been properly prepared.  He was wearing jean shorts (this was the mid 80’s for context in case you couldn’t tell by the jean shorts).  This kept him from sliding down the slides.  I was embarrassed and acted like a jerk.  I do not remember all aspects of the day. The highlights linger.  It is a cloud hanging over moments of parenting today.

Four days ago, my daughter wanted to go for a bike ride.  My bike had been buried under boxes since moving in a year and half ago.  The previous weekend things were arranged to make it accessible. It was ready to be moved out and ridden. All that was needed was a tire pump (and a hope the tires were okay). I was prepared for something to be wrong with the tires.  It would be disappointing, but understandable. 

The tire pump not working was not prepared for. It was purchased last year and had worked numerous times on my daughter’s bike. Queue getting upset. Then checking it.  Then taking it apart.  Then, putting it back together.

Getting upset created 5-10 aggressive, frustrated, crappy, immature, childish forceful pumps of empty air through a broken tire pump into a bike tire going nowhere.  Queue insecurity.  Thoughts of having less.  Self-pity, why me, and brokenness pushed out with each thrust of the pump.

My daughter asked, “Do I need to leave?  Are you going to start cursing and yelling?” *Snap*.  I looked up. Immediately embarrassed and asked, “Huh?”  It was pointless.  I heard her.  Even knew why she was asking. Knew where the question had come from (not-our-house).  “Have I ever done that?”  “No”, she answered.  Her question reached in and pulled me out of the moment, “Then why would I start now?” I replied smiling. Done.  The bike ride was not going to happen.  Fear.  Embarrassment.  Being a father with jean shorts at a water park was gone.  There was more we could do.  We moved on (I moved on).

An embarrassed child.  A divorced father feeling the weight of what he saw growing up.  Change does not happen on its own.  In this case it happened in a kitchen, angry at a tire pump.  It was never about my father and his jean shorts. In that moment, a 12-year-old boy was forgiven for his behavior.  Then became a better father to his daughter.

A Vegan Father… no longer angry at a tire pump.

Posted. Not Perfect.

“What is a white lie?”  There was no way to know if or when my daughter would ask that question.  Or any similar question.  Pause.  Breath.  Buy time.  “That is a remarkably interesting question, sweetie.  I am glad you asked it.  What does ‘lie’ mean to you?”  Maybe, not perfect, but it provided breathing room.  Next step?

That question caught me off guard.  Kids will do that.  You cannot be ready for every question.  You can be prepared.  We train for jobs, to drive a car, to fly a plane, to be a barista.  Parenting?  We treat differently.  You had one.  You got this. Wrong.

We started a conversation.  The direction of the conversation was not asking what inspired the question.  Instead, we focused on the substance of the question.  An open-ended conversation.  Discussing what it means to lie.  Talking about how some people make excuses for different types of lies.  We talked about when someone would lie.  Why someone may choose to lie. Variations of lies, lying, liars, and white lies.

 No judgement. Just conversation.

As the conversation went on parental fears washed away. The question treated as if she had asked “Why is the sky blue?”  The fear of potentially making my daughter feel badly or guilty for asking this type of question, let go. 

It ended as it started.  Open.  It ended letting her know she could revisit the topic any time.  Any question.  Any time.

In parenting there is no right.  There is wrong.  Right is subjective.  Less black and white.  Less easily identified, taught, or shown.  It is not instinct (though some of that sometimes helps).  It is not found in Chapter 2 of a book (though, that can also help).  It is okay to admit “I don’t know” and share what thoughts you do have. It will humanize you to your child. It will create a more realistic view of the world they live in.

The next night at bedtime she said, “I want to talk like we did last night.”

A Vegan Father…learning when and how to talk.

Posted. Not Perfect.

When a man kisses his child, said Epictetus, he should whisper to himself, “To-morrow perchance thou wilt die.”—But those are words of bad omen.—”No word is a word of bad omen,” said Epictetus, “which expresses any work of nature; or if it is so, it is also a word of bad omen to speak of the ears of corn being reaped” (Epictetus, iii. 24, 88).

We dare not speak of, think of, speculate, or pontificate upon death.  For most, death is fear.  Ignored as if it will never come.  Therefore, unprepared when it does. We travel through this world not scared, but ignorant.  If we dare to think of our children dying, we are horrible. 

Through Ryan Holiday’s books, newsletters, courses, and his two podcasts the idea of putting your kid to sleep and saying, “you could die tonight” was introduced..  It was just as upsetting then as it is now.  Yet, it’s intended impact is felt.  The idea of how to “handle this moment” (fill in “moment” with your choosing), is seen through a more patient, waited (and weighted) lens.  Those words are not a bedtime ritual.  It does float around from time to time.

Epictetus’ thought above started to get redirected listening to Shannon Lee’s book “Be Water, My Friend”.  “A book about the teachings and philosophies of her father, Bruce Lee. 

It is true a child may not see the morning light.  That is a weight for the parent to carry.  What weight does a child carry if their parent is not here tomorrow? We can leave a child with nothing but random pieces of our lives.  Well lived, or otherwise.  We can leave them with an empty pit or a legacy.  Bruce Lee died 30 years ago.  Whatever transpired the past 30 years means nothing to him.  There is nothing to care. 

Yet, his daughter has lived the last 30 years without a father.  Those years matter to her.  He left her writings, views, thoughts, teachings, quotes, philosophies and more.  A legacy for her to read, learn from, and think upon.  Thoughts and images to pour over.  People influenced by what he left behind.

That is what I think about when putting my daughter to bed.  If I die tonight, what does she have of me?  It is not ego that inspires the question.  It comes from the heart, for her. From wanting her to have something to hold onto, to guide her, to give her pause. 

It is because of this there is a podcast for her to listen to.  She can hear real time thoughts on the struggles and joys of raising her.  She can listen to better understand her father’s views and motivations.  She has hours to listen to or fast forward through.  She has pages of this blog to read.  If she were to pick up a book I read, she would find highlights, underlined passages and notes in the margins and back of the book.  There is a world created for her to learn from.

Epictetus’ point of “your child could die tonight” is not lost. Regardless of how a parent processes the thought, nearly every parent carries the weight of that worry with them daily.  What we miss is what if we die tonight? 

Do your best to be a good parent.  Treat them well and with respect.  Try and teach them x, y, and zed (love Canada).  Yet, what will they remember?  Of all we have said, what will stick?  What will they have of you when they are your age?  What will they pontificate on?  Writing now, if my daughter chooses to have a child, she can have these words to think about her own legacy.  If not a child, a friend, or boyfriend, or girlfriend, or lover, or co-worker, or whomever.

Think about this next time your child goes to sleep.  What are you doing if you have downtime before going to bed?  Making them a picture?  Writing in a book you are reading?  Putting words to paper, or voice to a podcast?  Are you clicking on the TV and vegging out?  Are you drinking wine and spacing out?  Are you stewing?  Fighting with a significant other?  No judgement on any of those.  We just tend to do, without thinking about why we are doing.

Parenting does not end because they fall asleep.  In some cases, that is when the real work begins.  There is a quote paraphrased here “to live forever write a book*”.  That was heard and lost at some point.  There are breadcrumbs of highs and lows for my daughter to read and reflect upon.  The person I was.  The person I am.  The person I strive to be.  The legacy started before she was thought of, without ever knowing.

A Vegan Father… writing for a future he will not be there for.

Posted.  Not Perfect.

* The closest I found of this: Writers live forever in the hearts of their readers -aloragreenleaf Quotable Quotes!: Book II – Writers Live Forever… – Wattpad