Here is the episode of the podcast Mommy Has Questions that I was interviewed on. It was a fun conversation about stay at home parenting, male roles in the family, and the couple of other things. I had great time, enjoyed the discussion, and the whole Mommy Has Questions team made me feel comfortable and right at home. So thank you for having me.
Please, give it a listen – follow, subscribe, leave a comment. You know the drill.
My kid had to deal with her first big loss yesterday; she failed a test at school. Not only that, but it was a test that she thought she had aced, so it was a double shock.
She didn’t take it well.
No, she was pretty upset, and there were many factors as to why she was so mad. Embarrassment, feelings of inferiority, fear that she would fail her class, fear that she would fail the whole year, fear the would have to repeat the grade, and just a general disappointment in herself. All hard things for a kid to deal with, but they are things that a kid has to learn to deal with. My approach was to let her be upset and get all of that pent-up anger out of her system.
My grandfather used to say that when you get mad, you should give yourself a day to wallow in it, but then you have to start making changes in the morning. It’s generally worked for me. Some losses are harder than others. Instead of a day, in some situations I needed days, weeks, even a month. Anger can tell you many things – and when I listen to why I’m angry, it tells me what changes I need to make.
That might be too much for the kid to dwell on for right now.
I thought it best to help her try to forgive herself, relax enough to get some sleep, and then discover that tomorrow did arrive in the morning, and it all wasn’t as bad as you thought it was. As long as you have a tomorrow, you always have a chance to make it better.
It’s Parent/Teacher Day and my kid’s school!
You know who’s excited about Parent/Teacher Day? My daughter! She dressed me up for it. She wanted me in a sportscoat, and I was happy to oblige her. Instead of having this meeting at night, which I feel is normal for most schools, our school decided to hold this meeting in the day, so the parents could see the kids… you know, in their natural environment?
For the record, anytime the Parent/Teacher Meeting comes up, I tell the kid that if she’s good, she will get pizza for dinner, and if she’s bad then it’s poison. Then she saw that episode of The Simpsons, and now she gets my joke. She also thinks I’m not that original.
The meeting was fine. The kids were well behaved, and I like the kid’s teachers as they do a very good job, and the kid loves them. We were shown the progress they have made in their subjects, and what we can do as parents to help them with their school work. All in all, it was a cute hour to spend at her school.
As I was leaving the school, just walking down the street, I had one of those moments where it washed over me how much “parent” defines my life. Most days I don’t feel like a parent, more like a pretend parent making it up as I go. I am aware that most other parents feel the same way, and in fact, the world is made up of half-assed adults faking their way through parenthood. (It really is a wonder that human civilization has developed as well as it has, being that everyone is faking it…) But on a day like today, I felt like “I am parent,” instead of “I’m trying to be a parent.” That doesn’t mean I feel confident as a parent, just that “I am” one.
Does that make sense?
My kid had a school performance this morning. It wasn’t a play; it was a review of songs. Each class came out on stage and did a song. I must say that the program was run very smartly and efficiently. It started on time, and ended early – of all things. I give all the credit to the theatre and music teacher; they did an outstanding job. I would say that a great many professional theatre artists could learn a great deal on running a show from these teachers.
As I sat in the back of the house, I can’t deny the sense of beaming pride that shone off of me. The wife too, and, well, all the other parents there, too. Oh, parents are such a subjective, unreliable audience. Our opinions cannot be taken seriously. Yes, we would applaud our kids burping the National Anthem.
I began to wonder, and I know the answer is yes, but even going all the way back to the 4th Century BC, were Athenian parents also swooning over their kids as they performed in Dionysian Festival of Theatre? When the chorus of children filed out on stage and began to recite lines backing up Oedipus, there must have been mothers and fathers beaming and bragging about how amazing their child was. Even when masks fell off kid’s faces, and the deus ex machina locked up stranding an actor in the air, those parents still spoke about how their kid was just as good as Thespis.
Yeah, sure, the more things change, the more the stay the same – a truth that cannot be avoided in this situation. I always knew that when I became a father that eventually, I would be in a school auditorium watching my kid on a stage with other kids, half of them desperately not wanting to be up there, performing something – and probably not well.
But not today. No, my kid was awesome on stage. She is a naturally talented performer.
Christmas time is here again, just in case you didn’t know.
The year has flown by. The tree is up, and we are getting ready to start doing all of the Holiday stuff. You know, shopping, wrapping gift, baking cookies, seeing friends. The usual. And I do enjoy celebrating Christmas in New York City. For all the things this City is famous for, it really is a Holiday Town.
It’s taken awhile for Christmas to start feeling fun again for me after the passing of my Ma. The absence of a parent during this time of year seems to hammer home the void that has been left. I think I have been doing a good job with trying to keep Christmas fun for the kid, and I do worry that my sorrow and mourning might affect her enjoyment of the Season. I think I have succeeded in this effort.
I can also admit that slowly, year by year, the joy of Christmas has started to slowly return to me. It’s still not the same, and certain things, traditions, still don’t ring true as they used to. But now, I feel the kid’s excitement of this time of year, and that is a replenishing feeling that helps alleviate the experience of loss.
And that is where I am now. I miss my mother, and I know that my Christmas will never feel the way they did when she was around, and that’s okay. My Christmas now is about my family, and making the kid have memories, and building something new on top of the love that was shared with me.
