Tag: Kids

  • The Feels Rollercoaster

    The last couple of years have been a rough go for most of us. I’m not taking a huge leap with that idea, I know. Covid threw everyone for a loop, changed the ways of the world, brought up many issues people had to deal with, and I will also say that on the whole, we are all living in a Post-Covid world now.

    For me, this dark period of life started in 2018 with my mother’s death. She felt a lump in her throat in July, and passed away in October. Three months isn’t necessarily a short period of time, but it still feels like it all happened in the blink of an eye. I’m still dealing with her passing, and probably will forever, but I do know that I am in a better place about it.

    There are many things that can be said about losing a parent, and have been said many times over and over. What I found was that nothing brought me joy or happiness. I was sad all of the time. Not depressed, or withdrawn – just sad. And this sadness was always just below the surface, and if I felt anything too much – laughed too hard, or lost myself in a movie or a song – then I would start crying. And I would allow it to happen, and it felt cathartic, but it also made me feel like I was unhinged, and not in control. I knew I needed to mourn my mother, but I also needed to go to work, and take care of my kid, and that was important too.

    When Covid hit, I still wasn’t in a good place, but I was functional. It was a little strange to be isolated from everyone, but our little family unit clung together. I found that my marriage actually got stronger, and I enjoyed being with my wife all the time. And getting to spend so much time with my kid – playing and teaching her how to read – is a treasured gift that I am so fortunate I was able to take part in. Not that we all didn’t have moments where we needed our space, or got on each other’s nerves; we are human.

    And as 2023 started, I started feeling good again. And I started acknowledging that I had changed. I’m not the same person that I was in 2018. It was tough, but I had to admit that I am no longer a theatre artist or a puppeteer. That was a tough one, as that is how I had thought of myself since 2000, all the way back in college. For the last five years, I hadn’t done a show, and I didn’t have a desire to go back. Same thing with my career in arts management. Though I know I don’t want to go back to it, I also know that I do have some anger with the way I was treated in my last two jobs, and I need to take responsibility for the way I behaved as well. That’s an issue I am still working on.

    What I have changed into is a stay at home dad; that’s my role in the family. It took me a bit of time to come around to it. There is still a pull in me to go get a job, as it is stuck in my head that the only “real” way to contribute to my family is by bringing in money. There is a good chance that I will do that, or need to do that in the near future, but as of now – I got a kid, a home, and a financial future that I am responsible for.

    But I still have to do something creative, which is what you are seeing/reading right now. I have always written something – in a journal since high school, plays, an article for a rock zine, college lit journal, and several on and off blogs. There was a five-year period after high school when I tried my hand at getting published, but other that a handwritten from an editor at STORY Magazine telling me to “keep at it, don’t get discouraged,” nothing ever came of it. This blog that you are reading now, was started back in 2017, back at the tail end of my performing days, so writing has always been hanging around in my life. Sure, in the middle of the Pandemic, I had this crazy notion that I was going to “earn money” through writing… And I have re-assessed this idea. If it happens – great! But I am not counting on it. I’m writing because it makes me feel good, gives me a purpose, and is something to work at that is for me. And right now, that’s what I need most in my life.

    Like I said, with all of these changes, I started feeling good about myself, my place in the world. I started feeling grateful for the like I share with my wife, and kid, my family and my friends. I have a good life – filled my struggles – but it is a good life that I am proud of.

    And then I saw a picture. It was a simple, picture of seven people standing in front of a theatre upstate. One of the people in the picture was a friend of mine, who got tagged in the shot, and it was from an organization that he was working for this summer developing a new theatre piece that involved mime and physical theatre – all the stuff I used to do.

    And that picture made me feel like shit. I was shocked at how awful I felt by looking at it. I wasn’t upset with my friend, nor was I jealous of what he was doing, as he’s been taking part in camp, workshops, and art commune things like this since I met him. I felt like shit looking at that picture because the thought that crept into my head was, “That could have been you if you didn’t quit.” I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had given up on myself, and that nothing mattered.

    I feel that I have a normal level of anxiety and self-doubt. Normal level meaning that I have to work to overcome my anxiety and self-doubt, but it is never so great to keep me from getting out of bed in the morning, or to stop me from trying. But this feeling was more like I had wasted my life – that I could have been doing the cool stuff, creating works of art. That I was just one step away from it, and I was the loser who quit.

    And it was like all the progress that I had made over the past year – working through my mom’s passing, my new role in my family, leaving my career, and working on a new form of expression – was meaningless. It had the added effect of making me feel totally alone and isolated. One picture triggered all of that in me.

    You have to make a choice in a moment like that, and I did what any healthy, well balanced person does – I ate potato chips on the couch while playing video games trying very hard to act like I didn’t feel what I felt. Because I felt ashamed at who I am, and for trying to grow into something else.

    But it passed – all those feels. It passed because I talked to my wife about it. It passed because I took my kid to the community pool on a hot Summer day in Harlem, and we swam and talked about music and going away to camp. It passed because I talked to my partner about it, and it passed because I spent time with my daughter – the person I am trying to better myself for.

    It passed but it still lingers in my mind. It’s there because I still need to take the time and mourn the passing of who I used to be. That’s not to say that I won’t find my way back to a theatre, but if I do return, I won’t be the same person doing it for that old reason. It lingers because I am human, and I will always wonder to some degree if I made the right choice. I wish I was so completely confidant in my decisions that I never look back. That’s not me, and I know that about myself.

    I know a few more things about myself now, that I didn’t know awhile ago. It’s progress. I am happier, and that is a win.

  • Busy Morning

    I wouldn’t say that I was dreading today, but I knew I had a lot to do. That was the reason that I didn’t sleep the best. Sure, there was a good/bad late movie on last night, which didn’t help.

    But, today was the last day of school for the kid, and there was a finely dusted glaze of excitement in our apartment this morning. The cusp of Summer vacation was upon us, and the kid was bubbling over with glee to get it all started. For us the parents, we needed to take the appropriate pictures of “The Last Day of School,” so we could compare them to the shots we took on the first day of school. There was a noticeable bit of nervousness in me as we all walked to school. Something about last days that fill me with melancholy and the feeling of saying goodbye to people you’d grown accustom to seeing daily. The kid bounded off with her friends into school. No one really works on the last day – it’s just a fart around day.

    My next task was to take the car in to be serviced. As Summer is almost here, we are about to start our serious driving season – traipsing around the Mid-Atlantic states, and New England as well. I never thought I would be the type of New Yorker who owned a car in the City, yet here I am. And as such, the responsibilities of car ownership are thrown on me – the maintaining of our car which requires that I drive it to the service center on the westside of Midtown. I like to take West End Avenue to get down there, as it’s an avenue, and an area of the City that I am never in. Full of big old apartment buildings that I’m guessing were built in the 1920’s or so. It is a land of doormen, and people who have to go to work, but well to do jobs, because these people have expensive bills. Like I said, it’s a part of New York I never go to, so I always feel like an explorer when I am there.

    Then to round out my morning, I hit up the Trader Joe’s on 93rd. In the mornings, the place is a mix of older people, and people who look like they just got done working out, and aren’t in a hurry to get to work. Usually, I’m in and out rather quickly. I don’t dottle as this isn’t my favorite chore. Today though, 93rd TJ’s music player was ripping it up with some forgotten 90’s rock. Yes! I am now their target demographic, and they are catering to me! About damn time! Awesome choice with the 311 – and maybe I was too harsh to them when they came out! “I Alone”!!! I haven’t heard that song in years. Alive was a great band! Remember Alive? Me either! Because their name is actually Live. Good memory, I have…

    Now home, it’s blog and making a Summer playlist for all the driving that I’ll be doing. Yes, Live and 311 might make the cut. Going to eat lunch and pick the kid up from school. Hopefully the rain will hold off so she can have some park time with her friends. I still have to make dinner, and start planning the rest of her vacation.

  • School Recitals

    My daughter had her Spring School Recital this morning. I won’t be reviewing the performances, so to speak (I will leave that to more professional writers like Frank Rich and David Sedaris,) but I would like to talk about the kids who clearly don’t want to be there.

    When I was in grade school, I was the kid that wanted to be front and center. I tried to sing the loudest, and get the most attention. I was a drama nerd from very early on. Hence why I persuaded a professional performance and theatrical career. All be it from behind a puppet, but still. Being up in front of people is a place where I am comfortable, and watching the kids in my daughter’s class, I could see that she and a few others also enjoyed having an audience.

    Yet, I do know and understand that for most people, have a group of people eagerly stare at you is not a fun way to spend any length of time. I took a moment to watch those kids today. The kids that were told they had to be up there, and sing along. I am happy to say there weren’t any trouble makers – no one went out of their way to sabotage the proceedings. These were the kids that were looking up at the ceiling, and mouthing the words. Doing anything to just get through the three minutes of singing.

    And when the song was over, and the half hearted bow was given, then the spark of joy and excitement came across their faces as they could NOW start leaving the stage to return back to their classrooms. It was like a magic switch was thrown, and they popped back to being kids.

    My kid was awesome, by the way.

  • Rain Sounds and Rumbling Thunder

    The kid has been having issues with falling asleep lately. Polling the other parents at her school, this seems like a very common phenomenon that is occurring in many households at bedtime; kids just don’t want to go to sleep. For my daughter, her unwillingness to go to bed falls in two categories; scary dreams, and FOMO.

    When it comes to scary dreams, the wife and I have been working with the kid by reading stories and books where the hero character over comes a fear or anxiety. We also talk to her about focusing on the best parts of her day, or what she would like to do the next day. This generally works. The FOMO, on the other hand, has everything to do with mom and dad watching cool tv shows after she’s in bed. She’s already an eager fan of prestige television.

    The other night, the wife came up with an idea to help the kid fall asleep, which was to play an eight-hour track of rain sounds and rumbling thunder. The results of this addition to our nighttime routine has been wonderful, as the kid easily and quickly falls asleep. No scary dreams, no fear of missing out on what happens next to Ted Lasso. Just a calm and peaceful sleeping child and the gentle rolling of rain and thunder.

    There is another side effect of this sound addition to our home; I have discovered that I remember all the lyrics to “Riders on the Storm.” (If you know the song, you know what I am talking about.) And I can’t help myself. The second the rain sound starts in the kid’s room, I begin hearing Jerry Scheff’s bass, Ray Manzarek’s Rhodes piano, and John Densmore’s drums. Then my inner Jim Morrison comes out, and the lyrics just roll along with the thunder. It might not be the best song to sing to your kid before she goes to bed, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

  • Start the Clock Until the Next Shooting

    I was thinking that someone should just write a list-article on all the nations that solved their gun problems, specifically, how they did it.

    Maybe if the piece had some cutesy click-bait name like “You Won’t Believe How These Five Nations Solved Their Mass Shooting Problem.”

    I wish I had a better point to make rather than throwing weak-ass jokes and snide comments at a serious problem.

    But the fact of the matter is that the gun debate was lost when no one did anything after Sandy Hook. No laws were passed, and not a single politician suffered for voting against doing anything. Collectively, we all admitted that this is a problem that we don’t want to solve. We prefer to have guns and dead children. We would rather see people walking around with AR-15’s that do anything about stopping all of suicides that happen though the use of guns. We prefer to have open carry than protect people from domestic violence.

    I do feel hopeless.

    I worry every day when I drop my kid off at school.

    I worry about my family members who are teachers.

    Maybe we should just give in to Republicans and allow everyone to have a gun, especially teachers. I mean, we don’t trust teachers with books, but we can trust them with a gun. Build walls around schools, and make them little forts of learning. Give people access to mental health support, which might be a form of health care, but I am sure we could come up with a good conservative label for it, like FREEDOM ROBUSTNESS!!! All of this would cost money, and I am sure that Republicans will come up with some way to expand the government without raising taxes. We should call their bluff, and say yes to everything they propose.

    I mean, let’s see what will happen. Clearly, it’s okay if a few more kids are killed as we wait.

    There’s no rush…