Tag: Kids

  • ODDS and ENDS: Surprised I’m Here, Gotta Have Goals, and Sports

    (Nothin’ to do, nowhere to go…)

    I’m forty-seven years old. Not ashamed of my age, and other than a slight pot belly, I think I look rather good for my age. But for the life of me, when I was a kid, like nine years old, I never imagined that I would be this old. Well, sometimes I thought I’d be really old, like eighty, walking with a cane, shuffling around, being all grandpa like. No, when I was a kid, I thought I’d be in my twenties, and then, nothing. Thirty seemed like it was so far away, let alone forty. That some how, it couldn’t be possible that I would live that long. Not that I had some death wish, or believed I was doomed. No, it was more a matter of time. It’s time, the time it would take to become old seemed insurmountable. There just was no way that I could become that old… When I think about me at nine year old, I think he would be surprised that I am still here. And so bald…

    But the thing that makes getting older tolerable, is having a goal. Something to work towards, or look forward to. My Grandma Groff used to say that all the time when she would come and visit. That and it helps to have some spending money. But the goal thing, having something to accomplish, that has made a big difference if the last year for me. Not that it’s completely gone, but I don’t have that feeling of flounder much any more. That I’m just passing through my life, instead of being active in it.

    Growing up, we were a sports family, and then there was me; the un-athletic kid. I mean I tried. I tried my hand at baseball and basketball up through junior high. I really did love playing baseball, but I wasn’t athletically gifted; Batting ninth and right field were my lot. I took tennis lessons in high school, as my dad believed that we should do something physical, and not be a total loaf. I was pretty good at tennis, but I didn’t have the killer instinct for me to actually be competitive. After high school, I stopped playing any sort of sport. And then I had a daughter, who now is very into soccer. Which is cool, because I really like watching it. In my kid’s mind, watching soccer must mean that I know how to play soccer, right? I had written a week or so ago about helping the kid get ready for the soccer club try out. I enjoyed that, mainly because I was spending time with my daughter, but it was good being out and active. I also see in her mind’s eye that she is starting to think I am an athletic type of person. I enjoy this admiration I am receiving from her, but I know that in a year of two, it’s going to dawn on her how awkward and uncoordinated I really am.

  • In Demand Primary Caregiver

    The goal over the past few days was to get the kid healthy enough to head back to school on Monday. That meant sticking to the medication schedule, no missed doses, and staying hydrated and getting enough sleep. The kid hadn’t ran a fever since Friday, but there still was a cough. The advice from her doctor was that if the fever was gone for 24+ hours, then she wasn’t contagious and she could return to school.

    Mission accomplished; The kid returned to school this morning.

    Unfortunately, there was a trade off, and that was the wife got sick. Not as bad as the kid, but low fever, body aches, and general exhaustion. That poor gal has been doing her best to rally, but honestly, she just needs to rest. I have her back in bed, curled up with a blanket, and I bring her coconut water, and toast.

    All the while, I need to keep my ass clean and healthy. Somebody has to keep this home running.

    And that is my job. I am a stay at home parent; stay at home dad; primary caregiver. And I do enjoy it. I didn’t think I would be here, and nor do I know how long I will get to be here. Two incomes would make our life easier, and though blogging and writing short stories for online magazines is one most lucrative side hustle out there, the financial windfall has yet to break my way. Putting a coat and tie on, and going out in the world and earning money still might be in my future.

    But at this moment, where I am right now – I make sure people get out the door on time, and the bills are paid, and meals are planned. Lunches get made, and the kid gets dropped off/picked up. I get time. Time to be with my wife, and time with my daughter. I get time to write little ditties like this, and see if someone out there might find this a little funny.

    I’m not blessed. Just lucky.

  • That’s One Sick Kid

    If you are not aware, besides being a theatre artist and a writer and a sketchbook enthusiasts, I am also a stay at home parent. I like to see how many hats I can put on over the course of a day, as every day is a balancing act. I make time for my family and try to take time for myself.

    But all of it will come to a crashing halt when the kid gets sick, which happened this morning. She woke up groggy and not hungry, which were yellow flags that something was up. And then there was a cough, followed by her repeating to us that she felt warm. Ahh… the final red flag.

    I took her temperature and immediately thought of how when everyone is a kid, they think they can force their body to have a fever to get out of school. Too my sad surprise, the kid actually had a fever. Holy Crap! It’s just the second week of school; is that even possible?

    The answer is yes. And as the day has gone on, the fever has slowly crept up. Nothing scary, but it went from 99 to now resting at 100. Tylenol and Gatorade be damned! Nothing will kill this bug!

    What was I planning on doing today?

    Doesn’t matter. This is a day of toast making and YouTube watching. Reading stories, and playing games.

    The writing I wanted to do today? Ha! Dream on, sir! There is a little girl that needs her dad.

    And deep down, I know I’d rather take care of the kid than do anything else.

    Even though I might pitch a story idea to a comedy blog, and write a couple of short story reviews.

    Who am I kidding? I’m going to let the kid paint my nails.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Premier League Begins, Commuting to School, and Change is Coming

    (You can have yours, just gimme mine…)

    Later today, the Premier League starts up for the season. Clearly, and no one can dissuade me from this, Tottenham Hotspur will win the whole League. Yup, they will sit atop the table and lord it over Man City, and the forever a league-bridesmaid; Arsenal. Sure, Spurs qualified for the Europa League, just falling short of the Champions League goal, but hey! We’ll take whatever hardware that is offered. Am I over confidant? You Bet’cha! (I am a Cowboys fan, after all.)  I have paid for all the services, against my better judgement, so I will be able to watch every match. Not sure if I can get myself to go to the local Spurs bar and start drinking at 7am on game day, but we’ll see – that still feels like a goal to aim for in the next year or two. Either way, I’m ready for English football. (An Aside: I will still keep my eye on Brentford, as I still like the scrappiness of that team. They’re fun to root for.) I do feel that a new Tottenham scarf could be in my future, maybe even a sweater. Putting it out there, see if it manifests itself. You know. #COYS

    I had a moment this morning, when I was taking the kid to school, I started to ponder how different the way my kid goes to school is compared to how I went to school when I was her age. The kid takes the subway to school, and is accompanied by me. Sometimes a friend from school will be on the train with us, but most mornings, it’s just us. Sometimes we chat, sometimes she reads. It is the subway, so every now and then, an incident has happened; crazy guy, someone begging for change, homeless guy sleeping on a bench, or people yelling at each other. On the whole, most mornings the people on the train are tired, not in the mood to interact with anyone, and just want to be left alone. At her age, my family lived in a generic suburb, and I walked down the block in the neighborhood and caught the school bus with about five or so other kids. No one escorted me; I would say bye to my mom, and walk out the door. The bus stop could be dicey on certain mornings. This was grade school, kindergarten to 6th grade, so you could have 5 to 12-year-olds out there. Some mornings it was “Lord of the Flies” with kids being shitty to each other, but most days it was just a conversation about cartoons. Getting on the bus had its own perils; social order, and ostracization could be on full display. Would you get a seat? Who would you sit with? Would it be an older kid who would bully you the whole way to school? The anxiety, drama and fear! When I think about it, the subway isn’t so bad.

    And as school has started and Autumn is on its way, I have started to think that this is the time to begin the process of change. Or at least evaluation to determine if change is needed. I do know that if I am thinking about change, I should change. I need a better work schedule, and a more rigorous regime at the gym, as pants are getting tight. (I might have mentioned that.) I should get better sleep, and possibly change up my wardrobe – more sportscoats? Maybe this is a moustache year? Not that something needs to give, but it would be nice to change things up. I don’t think I ever want to be set in my ways. Roots are good, but being unable to bend with the wind sounds detrimental.

  • Road Trip Thoughts, Part Three (Unedited)

    The drive back to New York City was over two days. We drove four hours to a hotel south of Harrisburg, then on Sunday, we’d drive four more hours and be back home. I had planned for enough time, so if we saw something that we wanted to look at, we stop and it wouldn’t throw off any schedules.

    Growing up, on family car trips, we had a running joke, which was “we’ll hit it on the way back.” See, mainly the only time we took a road trip was to go up to Illinois to visit family, which we did just about every Summer. My father is an easy-going man, but when it came to driving, we had a schedule to stick to. And though we made this trip every year, there were attractions along the way, and when me and my brothers would squawk to him about stopping to see the world’s largest ball of twine, he’d tell us that we’d hit it on the way back. Then two weeks later, as we were passing the exit for the twine, and the old man would ask us if we wanted to stop, all of us wanted to be home badly, so we’d him that we’ll do it next year. You now see how this cycle repeats itself. At some point, we all came to understand that “hitting it on the way back” was as good as a no.

    With the kid in the car, and on a father daughter adventure, I was determined to not say no to stuff the kid wanted to see. Now, deep in my core, I wanted to be home as soon as possible. I still had a sick wife at home that might need some nursing, and I didn’t want to delay her chance to see her daughter as soon as possible. Yet, when we’d see a sign for something, and I offered to stop, the kid kept telling me; she wanted to get home. She wanted to see mom, and be in her bed. I know I could have stopped – forced her to experience a natural cavern with her dad – but forcing her to do something wasn’t the point of the exercise.

    When we checked into our hotel south of Harrisburg, I knew I had to feed the kid. Luckily, there were plenty of chain restaurants all around us – with unlimited salads and breadsticks, chips and hot sauce, or whatever it is they give you at a road house from Texas. None of it sounded appealing to either one of us.

    “What was the one food you were missing at camp?”

    “Sushi.”

    “I can work with that.” One quick search and I found a sushi place two minutes from our hotel in a very gray cement strip mall – and it wasn’t a chain.

    This is where I got my wish, “Order whatever you want.” And she wanted miso soup, and something called Rock Shrimp for an appetizer. I let her pick out the rolls as well, and she selected an eclectic group. Salmon, and tuna, and something with cream cheese in it, which she had never had before and wanted to know what it was like. “Let’s find out.”

    I don’t know if I’m doing a good job as a father, and I bet I will never know. By not trying to screw her up, I know that I am screwing her up. I don’t want her to be afraid to try things in this world, to go out and do something. That was a huge hurdle for me to overcome. So much of my youth was always staying in the orbit of my parents. Never straying too far. They always encouraged me to go forth, leave the nest and explore, so I honestly feel that whatever was holding me back was me. When I broke free and move away from everything that I had known, it was difficult, and I felt like I was abandoning them – I felt guilty. I still feel guilty from time to time.

    I don’t want her to feel like that. Maybe I do force this on her – pushing her out into the world, telling her that she will leave, and that’s okay, and that’s what you should do. Don’t be afraid to leave what you know. I hope it lands; I hope that she learns this lesson sooner than I did.