Learning and Letting Go....

My little boy is all grown up, relatively.

Ryker starts preschool next Tuesday. I can't believe it.

We met his teacher Tuesday evening and she seems very nice. She is very enthusiastic about her program, she has a bunch of experience and her presentation to us parents went well.

Time is cruising on by and I am so proud that he is going to school but I also feel like I just want it to slow down a little bit. My wife is much more vocal about being sad that our little booger is starting school while I keep things upbeat and say that this is a great thing. This is a positive step in the right direction for him and he is going to love it, but inside I am sad because my mini me is growing up. He is going to go to school and start to form his own little opinions about his life around him and he will start experiencing so much more without us at his side. That I can't be there for his development is what gets me choked up.

While that is great for his development and it will help him become himself I can't help but be a little sad.

As he begins his journey of school it makes me think of grade school and my experiences as a kid and I hope that he has teachers that care for him like I had. I hope for him to be made privy to the opportunities he is capable of and I hope that he learns to recognize his capabilities through his education. I know it is a little early to be concerned with all of this but this is what concerns me.

At this juncture I hope that he not only learns the fundamentals like recognizing his numbers and letters but I hope he learns to be confident that he is a good kid and he is a smart kid. I want him to know that he is capable of becoming a great young man someday and this is the first step in that direction.

I worry though. I worry that there is going to be some mean spirited little boy in his class that will pick on him and make him feel bad about himself. I want to protect him from that, but I can't. There will always be those kids; the ones that need to prey on others to make themselves feel better about something. My wife and I always tell Ryker to ignore them or say "so what" when secretly I want to say "just haul off and pop him in the mouth if he calls you a name". Oh God, did I just say that out loud?

I worry that he isn't going to like the school. I worry that he won't listen to his teacher. I worry that he will be the one to give her a hard time and not listen to directions. I know we have done our best to teach him how to listen to direction and to go with the flow but I still worry that his stubborn side will come out and it will leave his teacher with a bad impression. He is a good kid and he listens well 99 percent of the time, but when he gets tired and hungry God help you.

Worry is normal for a parent. Right? I am supposed to worry about him. I wouldn't be a good parent if I didn't worry a little bit. I just want the best for my children (because they are the best children, I don't care what you say).

So this is it. I have to let go a little. I guess it is time. He is 3 after all and that is when you send them off to preschool. Listen to me making a mountain out of a mole hill. 2 days a week for three hours at a time he will be free of our parental grasp and free to learn new things and make new friends and I am making it seem like he is going to private school two states away. Truth is, he will be right up the street at St. B's having a blast.  Let's hope he loves it and he looks back and sees this as the starting point to his fruitful life.

Fat Kids do Win ...

Recently I heard the quote, "Fat kids never win." (hint: it came from a skinny person)

I was a fat kid. I had a belly and I wore "husky" jeans. I wore bigger shirts when I was twelve than I do now. I had exercised induced asthma due to my extra heft. When I visited the doctor for my yearly check up he would literally make fun of me. I suspect he was hard on me because I was unduly overweight and it was all my fault for shoving snack food in my mouth by the bag full. He was right.

I used to eat a lot when I was a kid. Food was my comfort zone. When I was little (pre 2nd grade) I was a skinny little runt just like all the other kids I knew. From 2nd grade until about 8th grade I was a balloon (albeit an adorable balloon). I was still active and I still participated in sports (I was a pretty good baseball player) I just ate twice as much as I should have. I ate and ate and ate. I never met a candy bar I didn't like. Chips and pretzels were eaten with haste. Licorice and Ice Cream? Sure, just put it in the same bowl and throw some chocolate syrup on top of that. Thanks.

For the longest time I didn't understand why I ate so voraciously and it wasn't until I started thinking about girls that I really made an effort to slim down. High school girls don't like the fat kid so I changed my diet and I suspect the 6 days of hockey a week helped slim me down as well but I really never understood it; the eating.

It wasn't until I was in college that I realized that it was my coping mechanism. My parents divorced when I was about 5 years old and I never thought it really affected me all that much until I look back and realize that it was around that time that I started just devouring candy and other foodstuffs. Now I am not blaming them for my childhood obesity (that's on me) but I realize now that was the reason for it.

Where am I going with this?

As an adult I am obsessed with food and nutrition; OBSESSED. I still snack on sweets from time to time but I try to do it in moderation and I balance it with proper diet and exercise. I go years without eating drive thru. I am trying to pass on good eating habits to my children without preventing them from enjoying food and snacks.

I don't want them to go through what I did as a pre-teen. The teasing and shame associated with being overweight was very damaging to me and became a defining part of my life. Kids are cruel, there is no doubt about it. I held on to every taunt and every conveyance of hatred sent my way due to my weight and I used it as a motivational tool to get in shape when I was in high school. It was my crutch for years and as an adult it caused a lot of guilty feelings inside. I felt guilty for eating fatty foods. I felt guilty for the way I chased around girls in high school and college. I felt guilty for the way it all affected my relationships with people. I still feel guilty when I eat fatty foods and don't get any exercise for that day. I no longer feel guilty about my actions because I have come to terms with my past and let it all go.

My goal is to prevent all that; all those mistakes for my kids. I know I can't prevent mistakes for my children. Mistakes are part of life and life's learning process and they have to happen. I get that, but I want to prevent my children from having to put up with the skinny kids making them feel like they are less than great. Life isn't fair but as a father I can help my children build themselves up to conquer the playing field and part of that is to instill a positive attitude regarding food and diet and exercise. Along with teaching them discipline regarding the foods they eat I can take the time to teach my children that disrespecting someone due to their weight or appearance is unacceptable. I can teach them that and hope that they follow those simple rules of life.

As much as we wish we didn't, we live in a culture that regards fitness and looks highly. It is the fit that win the ball game. It is looks that initially attracts one to another. It is fitness that establishes confidence and self esteem within a person. I can't tell you how much better I began to feel about myself when I looked down at my stomach and saw abs instead of flab. It was at that moment that I realized that I needed to keep making the right choices for myself to continue to look and feel the best I could in life. Now that I have two children I feel like I need to pass on that feeling to them so that they will feel confident in their skin and try their best to keep themselves fit and healthy as best they can.

I am no perfectly physically fit. I do not own a 6 pack these days. I am never going to be an underwear model but at the age of 30 I still fit in my clothes and I can still keep up with guys in their early twenties at men's league. My wish for my son and daughter is for them to always feel comfortable in their own skin and not have to feel like I did back then.

It was a struggle getting to where I have been physically due to the choices I made as a child. I religiously went to the gym for years. I still watch what I eat constantly. I have driven myself to the point of insanity about routines. I will not be overweight again.

We as a nation have an ever increasing belt line and I want to make sure that my children aren't part of the problem but rather agents of change for their generation. I want them to carry positive attitudes regarding life and I hope they pass them on to others.

Do fat kids ever win? I'd say I have. I have won in team sports (a baseball championship, hockey tournaments) I have won in academics (college degree, trivia contests) and I have won the heart of my wife and my children.

Fat kids do win.

"Because the dogs lick your faces"

"Sit down on the couch, I need to talk to you both."

My wife and I looked at each other and snickered. Our two year old was calling the shots.

"What is it buddy?"

As if Carter didn't lick his face here.

"I need you two to stop being the bosses. You hurt my feelings."

(giggles) In unison "Why are we not the boss of you anymore."

"Because you let the dogs lick your faces."

The reasoning of a two year old isn't exactly rational. I will give it to him though; he gave it his best attempt.

Lately we have been dealing with a very strong willed son who doesn't necessarily want to obey our orders or take direction. This has led us to be a bit more stern than usual but far from hurting someone's feelings. This is a two year old we are dealing with though so I assume that he equates his anger over not getting his way with hurt feelings.

We thought we got through the terrible two's without him being terrible but I suppose that can rollover into his third year.

I am glad he decided to vent his frustration in a cordial manner (having us sit down to talk) rather than just screaming at us. I suppose that is progress and a testament to our parenting style that he chose a calm forum over a heated battle. He will be a good tactician someday if he learns to hone those speaking and reasoning skills.

"Because the dogs lick your faces .... " we argued was not a valid reason for us to no longer be in charge of the household. After all, the dogs lick his face too. They are dogs. It is what they do to show affection (or search for food from their master). He was adamant that they did in fact not lick his face and that since we let them lick ours it is time that we relinquish our power and let him rule the roost.

He certainly has rule over the two dogs so why not try to assume control of the other humans in the house as well. It is a rational thought.

I think maybe they are all in collusion to gain authority

Needless to say we are still "the bosses" and he is still "getting his feelings hurt" when we make him do things like sit at the table and finish his dinner or pick up his toys before we go to bed. While I am sure the attempts to usurp our authority will not stop anytime soon, he will have to find another excuse as to why my wife and I are no longer acceptable alphas of our pack.


Maybe next time kid ...

A Serious Post

With the advent of social networking (namely Facebook) people feel the need to constantly update others with what they are feeling. I am guilty of posting daily to Facebook but I keep my personal feelings to myself. It would be very uninteresting to others to hear that I am happy today as I was yesterday and that I have little to no drama in my life. I like it that way. I am happy everyday I wake up and kiss my family before I leave for work. The only reason I ever really get on Facebook is because I am stuck at my desk for about 6 hours a day at the computer and it is a good way to pass the dead minutes of the day.

I am concerned with the people who are constantly updating others regarding how terrible their existence is. I especially am bothered by those who have children and they still claim that their existence is flawed in some way and that they should give up. I feel the need to say something in private to these people but I fear it will only cause some sort of discord because they will feel that I am acting in a superior manner.

How can you feel that your existence is worthless when you are a parent? I don't get it. How can you get to a point in your day that you feel the need to tell others that your life sucks so badly that you want to give up, while in the same breath you claim that you love your children? I feel that having a happy healthy child should preclude you from ever feeling so down that you need to dramatize it for all to notice.

One thing that Facebook is is a permanent record that will always be accessible in one way or another at points in the future. Imagine the feelings that your child will experience when he or she reads your posts stating that your life isn't worth living even though they are part of it. I couldn't imagine what I would feel if I came across a writing of my mother or father from when I was a child notifying all of their friends that they no longer had the drive to go on living their life because it was so terrible.

I guess I just don't get it. Maybe I never will but all I can think of everyday is my children and my wife and their faces and those thoughts are what keeps me sane and they keep me from ever feeling that things just aren't right. To me they are all that matter. My job could be lost tomorrow and my house taken from me but as long as I have them none of that would matter enough to convince me that my life isn't great.

If you are a parent reading this and you ever feel that your life is effed and that you just can't go on I suggest you take an inventory of the things that really matter to you. If your child and your life with your child isn't enough to keep you from feeling down and out and ready to quit then I suggest you seek some sort of professional help because there isn't anything that should matter enough to take your focus from that.

We all get down from time to time. It is how we handle it that really defines our character and can define the character of your children. They are a reflection of us whether we like to believe that or not and their attitude depends on yours.

With faces like these how can anyone feel down.

Think before you post. Your children will thank you.

I Can't - The Worst a Parent Can Hear

 My son is shy with new people and new things.

Sometimes I forget that he is only two because of his physical and mental capabilities and I get frustrated when he is hesitant to do something new. I want him to embrace new challenges. I want him to run and jump into new things but he is smarter than that and he thinks things through.

I can see him eyeing things up before he tries them. It is as if he is performing a cost benefit analysis on the spot when we entice him to try something new. "Am I going to feel pain as a result of trying this? What will be my reward?"

Once he is successful at something new he heads into it full force with the reckless abandon you would expect from a two year old but it is only after he has already weighed his options.

"Look dad I got new skates"

I have been thinking about this lately because I am trying to teach him how to ice skate. He has his own skates and all the pads to prevent any type of injury should he fall. He can walk and run on solid ground with his skates on with no issue. He even jumps in them and never loses his balance but when we step out on the ice he clings to me as if I were forcing him to swim in shark infested waters.

He won't even try to do it on his own saying "I can't" all the way. His latest excuse is "my skates aren't strong enough".

As a parent there are a few things that can break your heart and hearing your child say "I can't" is one of those things.

I know he can skate.

There are other children his age at the rink that skate with no aide from anyone or anything and he is well beyond those children physically and mentally. He has great balance and great coordination and I believe one day he will realize that he can and he will take off.

 I have tried everything in my power to convince him that He Can. At first I attempted to entice him with a reward for trying. Then I just let go and he froze up once he realized I was no longer holding him. He didn't fall, he froze with his hands outstretched begging for me to grab a hold. I tried blowing bubbles for him to reach for so he would be distracted. Then I brought out the skate aide contraption and he just held on and refused to push with his legs. I think I have tried every trick in the book.

Finally, I sat with him and talked about it. I asked him if he even wanted to learn how to skate because he doesn't have to if he doesn't want to.

"I want to skate but I can't. My skates aren't strong enough and I am going to fall."

"I wear my knee pads under my jeans"

"Everybody falls buddy it is okay; falling is part of learning. You just get up and try again. I have been skating for 25 years and I still fall, but I get up and do it again."

"It is not okay. I don't want to fall."

It is here that I decide that I don't want to push him too hard out of fear that he will lose interest altogether and never want to try again.

It leaves me at a loss when he doesn't have confidence in himself. I can't help but have a feeling of despair and it breaks my heart because I know he is able and he tells me he wants to do it.

How can I instill confidence in him or how can I help him realize that he has the ability within himself to achieve what he wants when he wants?

As much as I say I am going to be Earl Woods and push my kid into  things full force, I don't want my kid to hate what he is doing and I don't want him to resent me for making him do things he hates.

I just want him to understand that he is capable. He just needs to think he can.

“Whether you think you can, or you think you can't--you're right.”
― Henry Ford

Antisocial Dad

an·ti·so·cial

   [an-tee-soh-shuhl, an-tahy-]  Show IPA

adjective

1.

unwilling or unable to associate in a normal or friendly waywith other people: He's not antisocial,  just shy.

2.

antagonistic, hostile, or unfriendly toward others; menacing;threatening: an antisocial act.

3.

opposed or detrimental to social  order or the principles on which society is constituted: antisocial behavior.

4.

Psychiatry . of or pertaining to a pattern of behavior in which social  norms and the rights of others are persistently violated.

Recently my wife called me antisocial. Me. Antisocial. Right!!! That's funny right?!?

At first I adamantly denied her proclamation and tried to cite reasons why I am NOT antisocial, "I have like 1000 friends on Facebook!!". Sadly I couldn't really bring up any valid responses to her claim.


It is true I have lost touch with many of my friends who would typically be around or within a phone call on any given night, but I am not what is defined as an antisocial person as you can clearly see from the definition above. I am not. I swear I'm not. Really.

Some of my friends have moved to different states. Many of my friends are still living the party life and are sans offspring. In either case I have lost some common ground with my old friends. The fact that they are my friends (they all know who they are) will be the common ground always moving forward but for the most part we have all grown in different directions.

It is okay to grow in different directions; it does not mean we are not still friends it just means that we have grown in opposite directions. It is pretty simple really; no need to complicate things.

We still get together from time to time to have some fun and reminisce about the past. Some of my friends even come to my home and enjoy time with my family on the weekends and my son loves them. They are his friends now and they come to see him (he never lets me forget that fact). I am sure my daughter will slide in there right in front of me on that issue in the future as well.

Anywho; back to this antisocial jab that was thrown in my face.

I don't get it.

I still play hockey once a week and meet new people doing that all the time. I talk to people all day at work; I am in sales afterall. I don't shy away from conversation when I am in social situations and I certainly have no trouble talking to new people.

I think she was referring to my penchant for staying home rather than going out to the club on a Friday night. Maybe she was alluding to the fact that the total number of minutes used on my cell phone plan pales in comparison to her usage. Maybe it is because I just would rather play cars in the living room or sword fight in the back yard with the two year old than attend a party or go to a bar.

The truth is that I am enjoying my time being a dad.

I like to spend social time on the ice with guys I hardly know because it is a healthy way to have fun. We speak a common language and play the same game.

I don't like hang overs. I love my friends and I talk to them on the phone. We get together from time to time but they don't have responsibilities like I do. Many of them have homes and good jobs but the one thing that separates and will always separate (until they procreate, that is) is that I have two wonderful kids that need me and with whom I want to spend as much time as I can even if it means that I am losing a few friends along the way.

True friends understand my disappearance and they will always be called friends and they will always be on the guest list. True friends call and the first thing they say is "how's the family". True friends can tolerate when I have to cancel or respond to an invitation as a no show.

The truth is that I may be becoming antisocial in a way but I believe it may be healthy for me and my family.

I am still me and I still have things to talk about. Those things just might include spit up, poop, boogers and how to teach a child the proper way to hold a hockey stick or golf club.

Heck I had a party at the house recently with some friends and it went swimmingly. I might even attend a wedding this summer and I am planning the family reunion. If that isn't socializing I don't know what is.

If this is an antisocial existence then I guess I am antisocial. I like it.

True Friends might even read this.

Benign Terror

Benign Familial Sleep Onset Myoclonus; at least that's what the doctors call it, is characterized by repetitive muscle twitching while sleeping. It can also be characterized by intense fear and worry in parents of newborn babies.

Although the diagnosis is a mouthful and often will bewilder anyone who hears it, the prognosis is thankfully cheerful and non-worrisome.

We brought our newborn daughter home last weekend only to encounter a rhythmically shaking sleeping child. To put it in simple terms we were freaked out.

Being admitted to Children's Hospital with a 4 day old is terrifying. All you want to do as a new parent is relax at home with family and friends with your new baby but instead you are tossed into a whirlwind of emotions and what ifs. What is even more terrifying is when you realize that your 4 day old daughter needs to be hooked up to an EEG machine to be tested and observed overnight.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with medical devices an EEG is a brainwave scanner that requires the patient to have electrodes glued in multiple places on their head and results in them looking as if they are wearing a multicolored Predator dread lock wig. It measures the electrical activity along the scalp to record the voltage fluctuations in the brain resulting from ionic current flowing from the neurons in the brain and is typically used to determine whether a patient has Epilepsy or just muscular convulsions.

Along with the inconvenience of not being able to step more than three feet from the machine with your newborn daughter comes the feelings of dread and utter despair due to the fact that you don't have any answers. Even if you did you can't do anything about it.

Minutes turn into hours and a single night seems to be a week in this tiny room where you are questioning everything from your faith in God to your previous actions that have resulted in this demonic karmic retribution. If I pray will anyone listen? Why should God answer this prayer? What if it is epilepsy? How can she have a normal life? What did she do to deserve this? Can we cure it?

You start thinking about joining support groups and what kind of schools there are that will accommodate your child while giving the best chance at a good education. You think about how terrible preteens are and the name calling she will have to endure. How will our son handle this? How will this change HIS life?

These are just some of the thoughts I had. I've never had anything happen worse in my life than spending that night there under those circumstances and I hope we never have to do it again.

There were moments where my wife and I could relax and laugh and just hold her close to the bed but they were fleeting when we started talking about the what if scenarios. The questions returned. Can she ever go to sleep overs? What about movie theaters? Will she play sports and learn like all the other kids? How will we as a family deal with this? Suddenly all we knew was questioned and we didn't even have an answer.

Although it seemed like an eternity our answer came pretty quickly in the form of a wide eyed thumbs up from the very compassionate doctor. I have never met a more cheerful and reassuring doctor in my life. A God send was this man who walked with a cane and has first hand experience what it is like to be in our shoes; on our side of the bed.

I honestly never thought I could be any happier than when I heard the words "It's absolutely nothing you need to worry about. She is a beautiful healthy baby and you can go home."

I can now say that I have been enlightened as to how a parent of an epileptic child must feel and I want to acknowledge how strong they must be to handle that and progress and live life. I am sure it gets easier to stomach once it has set it and you develop some sort of routine and understanding but I am sure that the feeling of helplessness never passes along with the worry you feel for your baby. You all have my dearest sympathy and thoughtful support because of the taste I got of what you have to endure everyday. I am sincerely in awe of your abilities.

So Benign Familial Sleep Onset Myoclonus it is (say it with me people). I will learn it and remember it always as the way Aria came into our lives and immediately stole the show. Not only did she steal our hearts but also scared the crap out of us from day one. Every time she sleeps and does her "dance" as we call it I will repeat it as a mantra just to reassure myself that she is okay, she is perfect and she is beautiful; and she didn't even need lessons.

Now my wife notices that I too twitch a bit when I sleep so I guess it is all my fault ....... just as I'd expected.