Tagged: family
The Co-Parent Mystique
Almost a year had passed before he recognized something was wrong. But something was most definitely wrong. Initially it was nice to have a break every few days, a night off, the ability to catch-up on whatever he felt like catching up on. Now, however, it was becoming increasingly difficult to enjoy that time. He felt the way he imagined a python’s prey did. His every hope for relief resulting in the python constricting tighter. And tighter. And tighter.
Initially, there was curiosity about what she was doing when she wasn’t with him. Most importantly he wondered if and what man took his place. All the literature explicitly told him not to play detective, so he didn’t. In fact, following the literature’s recommendations was the easy part. That’s what made this so difficult. How could the ‘right’ way feel so bad?
Time was starting to take its toll. Make no mistake, he was sure he made the right decision. On the whole, though, his last couple decisions had him wondering if he only made them in order to see for himself that life was as difficult as he had always been told. Feeling pretty dumb, he longed for his life before it became difficult. Scratch that, he didn’t think life was difficult; he compartmentalized life too much to make such a sweeping generalization. He told himself that life wasn’t difficult, just half of life–the half without his daughter.
Sometimes with one hand, sometimes with both hands behind her head, she often slept “like a boss.” He missed seeing that. He missed the way all three turns from the bathroom to the kitchen were wide-turns as she ran to get her treat after successfully going potty. He missed the way she opened and closed all her fingers in unison as she beckoned, “Ca-meer!”
The sinking feeling was inescapable. He was disgusted by it. Yet, he couldn’t avoid it. “The reason the situation is so difficult is that it doesn’t have to be this way,” he’d lie to himself. Maybe her mother would see that he could do a better job and let him raise her full-time. Maybe–just maybe–his daughter would request to live with Daddy full-time some day. Way beyond foolishness is shame. He was so ashamed of these selfish thoughts.
Thoughts like these only stifled him. He had not experienced “stifled” before. For that reason alone, he knew his daughter would need more than a stifled version of him. He knew he could do better than that, but he also believed he shouldn’t have to re-invent the wheel. Surely other people were dealing with the same feeling, right? Since it involved shame, he guessed so. If he had to, he would be the first to break the silence. She was worth it.
Memory’s Blessed Burden
Some pilots in Top Gun wore polo shirts under their flight suits. “Majesty” was number 33 in his 3rd grade Sunday school chorus book. MC Hammer appeared on Saturday Night Live on the opening weekend of The Addams Family movie. His dad put up a giant cardboard “Guess Who’s 30?” sign in the front yard on July 16, 1986. When playing catch with Jerry, it was easier to catch a raquet ball in the ol’ timey baseball mitt than a baseball. His 3rd grade friend slept during class in the Janet Jackson concert t-shirt he obtained at the concert the night before. Two loser sophomores attempted to intimidate him on the first day of highschool. His name was on the scoreboard at the Toledo Mud Hens game on his birthday. The vomit formed the shape of a baseball diamond in the corner of the stairwell at that same game. (Icks-nay on blue kool-aid.) Pastor Craig teared up at the end of some sermons. Jerry buried fool’s gold so that he could find treasure.
He could remember all these random things and more. Remembering so much was not without a burden. That burden was knowing where the gaps were. The burden was that he knew precisely what he could not remember.
Listening to the sermon, he was uncomfortable. Unable to ward off comparison and criticism, he longed for the memory of just a single sermon Pastor Craig gave. Was it the delivery? The rhythm? The message? He needed something to help him make sense of why today’s sermon sounded so backwards. Hmmmm…errrrrr. Nothing. Ugh!
Then a new thought occurred. Surrounding the gaps in his memory were Pastor Craig’s actions, which by definition were memorable. He remembered them to be authentic and full of integrity. He remembered feeling that the pastor loved him. What exactly did the pastor do to make him feel loved? The pastor aimed an intense focus on him. The kind of focus that is only made possible by living in the moment. Pastor Craig exemplified living in the moment.
At least, that’s how he remembered it.
Special Fourth of July Interview with A Mugwump
I’m excited to tell you all that I had an opportunity to interview A Mugwump this morning. I thought it was a fascinating conversation, but you judge for yourself.
Captain’s Log – How many ways can we spend money?
A Mugwump – Just two. The two ways we can spend our money are by choice or by compulsion.
CL – What is money?
AM – The dictionaries are wrong on this one. Big time. It’s not complicated. Money is a language. Unlike say, English which can communicate the breadth of the human experience, money can only communicate one thing. Money can only communicate value. Money is a language that communicates one thing. Money communicates value. That’s it. All the talk about recessions, depressions, inflation, the 99%, the 1%, Wall Street, Main Street, all of that is meaningless. Money is a language that communicates value.
CL – Are you saying that people with money are more valuable than people without money?
AM – No. This point is tricky, so pay attention. Money is only money when it is in motion. A dollar in my pocket is not a dollar. It is a piece of paper that looks like a dollar. When I take it out to purchase something, as I hand it to the seller, it transforms into money. It transforms into a communication of value. Whether we have a lot of money or no money has nothing to do with our value. When we choose to spend money, we communicate to others what we value. As I said, money in motion is the language we use to express value.
CL – Okay then, let’s return to the two ways we can spend our money, what is communicated when we choose to spend our money?
AM – When we spend our money by our own choice, we come to an agreement with the seller of the goods as to the value of the product or service. In short, when we choose to spend our money we communicate how much we value the product or service. If we think a particular TV is worth $300 and the person with the TV thinks it is worth $300, we hand over the $300 dollars and the seller hands us the TV. The money transferred communicates the agreed upon value of the TV.
CL – And what about when we are compelled?
AM – It is not the same when we talk about being compelled to spend our money. When we are compelled to spend our money, that money does not communicate the value of a product or service. Instead, when we are compelled to spend our money, the money communicates how much we think we’re worth as an individual. The money that an armed-robber forces us to give him was freely given to us in exchange for the value of a specific application of our time, skill, and/or energy. The armed-robber is giving us nothing of value in return for our money. Therefore, when we pay the armed-robber everything we have to stay alive, we’ve just communicated that we think our time, skill, and energy, in other words, our life, has no value. And the act of paying everything–our time, our skill, and our energy (our life)–to stay alive is another way to define slavery.
CL – Slavery, huh? It sounds like you may be describing the government as an armed-robber. What do you think a government is?
AM – No, you misunderstand. The government is not an armed-robber. It does offer certain valuable things, which a private market cannot, in exchange for our money. What do I think a government is? To my mind, a description that fits all governments that have ever existed, in all time periods, for all cultures, for all nations, would have to be, “Other people making some of our decisions for us.” That is what a government is. A government is nothing more than another person or group of people making some of our decisions for us. I say “some” of our decisions because that’s what this is all about. How many of our decisions should a government make for us? That’s what we are constantly deciding in this life. To me, less is better. But I can see how others might not want the responsibility of decision-making, so they might want others to make the decisions for them.
CL – Of all days, why agree to this interview today?
AM – Today, July 4th, 2013, is a fitting day to remind people of the nature of things. America is the only group we’re all apart of today. And if your readers are anything like me, they know they have value. As a matter of fact, even if they’re nothing like me, I believe they have value. I believe this, not because I have any special knowledge, but because in order to secure my freedom, I must believe and act on the idea that everyone has value. I must act on the idea that no matter who we are, no matter what our background, no matter what mistakes we’ve made, we have value. It’s Independence Day. A holiday helping us remember that our country was founded because citizens disagreed with how/how much of their money they were compelled to spend. In other words, they believed they should be making more decisions than their government let them. It was founded because people believed they were worth more than their government thought. If we want to spend our money as we please, if we want the amount of money we’re compelled to spend to be as little as possible, we need to be reminded that we all have value. Everyone has value.
A Letter To My Friend (That I Hope To Write)
To My Friend,
We’ve known each other for some time now. We’ve seen how we each live, how we each make decisions, how we each handle problems. More than most, you’ve seen my relationships with women unfold.
I’m writing to you now because a new day has dawned. People like us, we’re different. Our brains maintain a tighter grip on information than most. We have been given all the tools necessary to accomplish great things in this life, you and I. That’s just a fact. We also know that leading a family must be one of those things. It is a timeless tradition that must be honored by all men aspiring to greatness. There is no escaping this feeling. We’re surrounded by weak men holding their hands out, expecting help. They’ve got it wrong. We’re the ones who give help, not receive help.
The point is, we made it this far, and owe it to everyone, literally everyone, to use the rest of our time to be an example.
Some maladjusted part within us wants us to believe that if a woman would have us, then she could be the one. First hand experience however, tells us that nothing could be further from the truth. First hand experience also tells us that that’s not enough. That’s why I’m writing this letter. We need to help each other stay focused on the goal. Alone, the future is bleak. Together, we can lead a revival.
Only because of you am I confident to share the news. You reminded me of something I once knew; something that over the last several years I repressed, hid, denied, and pretended to forget. You reminded me that I, too, believe ideal women exist. I, too, believe in women of such high quality that they seem unearthly. I’m talking about a quality so rare that it is only whispered about. I believe in ideal women who possess so much more than the ability to attract. My friend, we’ve always hoped we were right. Now I am certain we were, because I found mine. I hope this letter brings you good fortune, and motivates you to stay the course.
Your Friend,
A Mugwump
Grandparents Wanted
“Now that we know who is doing what, it’s time for the prepared speeches portion of the meeting. Each of our speakers today has prepared what I’m sure will be marvelous speeches. First up, giving her ‘Ice Breaker’ speech, is Debbie Hinkletoe. She has spoken many times in the past, but this is her first speech with us. It appears we are making her feel as nervous as Anne Frank practicing tuba, so let’s be sure to give her all the support we can muster,” joked the old man lovingly attempting ease Debbie’s visible nerves.
It was unclear whether the old man knew that the joke would, to put it mildly, step on a few toes. The few audience members cursed with the inability to resist a joke’s cue-to-laugh recognized their loneliness and quickly adopted silence.
Concluding the awkward moment, a respectable old woman declared, “Not funny.”
“Okay, meetings over. Thanks for nothing, you inconsiderate asshole!” seemed the words the audience expected to hear next. However, following General Waverly’s (White Christmas) advice, “If there’s one thing the army taught me, it was to be positive… …especially when you don’t know what you’re talking about,” the old man made the correct decision to let the moment pass and continue the meeting.
He couldn’t help but smile. He just witnessed an event only found in books: An old man putting to use his well-deserved ability to “not care”, and an old woman responding in kind. Oh, the subtleties of that moment. As if the back-and-forth had caused the air to congeal, a stillness overtook the room for but an instant. Neither mortal would yield. Neither should have. They both behaved perfectly. They both…were grandparents.
He always liked “grandparents” as a group, but he was never quite able to put his finger on why; until that exact moment.
But first, while it may seem obvious, the reader must learn what he believed a grandparent to be. A grandparent is not simply someone whose children have had children. By his thinking, to be a grandparent, one’s children must be (or have) raising their own children. Biological grandparents fulfilling the role of primary parent are not grandparents to him, then. This is a necessary qualification.
It seemed to him that something magical happened when an old person was fully released from parental responsibilities. The concern for ‘appropriate’ and ‘proper’ disappeared, rightfully so. Grandparents, then, were the living proof that even the loftiest concepts needed to be knocked off their pedestals every now and again. It was the exchange between these grandparents that revealed this truth clearly.
This realization had a second effect. It motivated him, for he was a parent. Moreover, he now understood that to earn his status as grandparent he must aggressively embrace his parental responsibility. Any wasted time or opportunity would only result in his missing out on the ability to someday be the salt of life, would result in his missing out on the near-sanctified duty to offend, provoke, insult, but also spoil, entertain, love.
More than that, he finally understood why, no matter what they did, he always felt loved by his own grandparents. It was because they wouldn’t be his grandparents if his parents hadn’t loved him first.
How To Raise A Toddler
(If you’re short on time, skip to the bottom for numbered instructions.)
Okay, bedtime story complete; she’s down. What the? Why would they make something a toddler is supposed to put in her mouth out of cardboard? It took less than two hours for her to flatten the red-party-favor-blower-thing with her brimming with saliva little mouth. Gross. Yep, I’m throwing it out. I’ll just deal with her tomorrow. She probably won’t even remember that it existed. (#1)
“Daddy!”
Yup. She’s awake. I’d guess that it’s probably around 8:00 am. It’s got to be. I already heard my housemate leave for work. Let me just check my phone to see what time it is… 7:00 am! Oh well. I want waffles this morning anyhow, so I could use the extra time.
“Daddy?”
“What is it?”
“Where’s my red thing?”
“What red thing?”
“Daddy, can you turn on the light in your room?”
“Just eat. When you’re done, you can turn on the light yourself. You’re a big girl now. You can reach all the light switches in the house. Turn them on and off yourself as you please.”
“Daddy. I’m done. Peez I get off the table?”
“You’re done?! You haven’t finished your waffles. How are you going to have enough energy to make it to lunch?” (#2)
“Daddy. Peez I get off the table?”
“Fine.”
“Daddy. Where’s my red thing?”
“I threw it… it probably got thrown away. It was broken.” (#3)
“Who breaked it?”
“It’s ‘broke’, not ‘breaked’, ‘broke’. You did. Don’t you remember?” (#4)
“I breaked it?”
“‘Broke.’ Yep. You sure did. You should be more careful next time. Okay, hurry, you have to go to school.” (#5)
“But I didn’t break it.”
“The point is, it is gone.”
“Are we going to the mountains today?”
“No, you have school today. We’ll go to the mountains on the weekend.”
“Oh.”
“Okay, let’s get moving. I’ll get your clothes, time to go potty.”
Not quite making it to school (daycare) on the first trip, I was back in the driveway needing to grab the bathing suit I had told myself not to forget. Leaving her in the running car on the drive during the short trip into the house, I thought of all the morons who’ve car-jacked a car with a kid in the back. Not even fully closing the front door for fear of locking myself out, I might as well have put out the bat-signal.
Feeling the front-door give a little as I twisted the just unlocked handle, I pushed further only to curse myself. Apparently I didn’t remember to lock the deadbolt this morning before leaving like I told myself I would last night during a bout of all-too-common laziness. Who invented deadbolts that require a key to lock it on the inside of the house anyhow? Safe neighborhood, I’m sure.
Upon approaching the car, her child seat was empty. More curious than concerned, I saw movement on the other side of the seat. Good for her. She finally knows how to unlock the seat-belt. Finally, we made it to the ‘Early Learning Center’.
Crying , she wrapped my pinky and fore finger in her left and right hands which had acquired the grip of a python overnight. I pried my fingers free and left her in the arms of some accented foreign lady who is her teacher.
This is probably not doing any long-term damage to her. (#6)
Instructions for How To Raise A Toddler:
Step 1 – Lie as much as you can to the toddler and yourself.
Step 2 — Use the fact that all other parents are also lying as reassurance that you’re on the right track.
Captain’s Log 