Tag: Parenting

  • Halloweens of the Past

    The other day, as we were putting together the kid’s costume for Halloween, she asked me, what did I dress up as for Halloween? At first this seemed like such an easy question to answer, and I started to respond that I went as a pirate, a cowboy, a California Raisin, Indiana Jones… and… and then I couldn’t remember. I drew a blank.

    I could remember being a pirate when my family lived in Alabama, which would have made me five. Then I remembered the first Halloween in Texas, a cowboy – real shock there. I know that I did the California Raisin thing in 6th grade because there was a girl I liked and she thought it would be cute if I went as that, which I think shows you how desperate I was to get any female attention. And then Indiana Jones I did in 7th grade to coincide with Last Crusade which had come out that Summer, but it was also my last Halloween because I did feel too old to be out Trick or Treating.

    That leaves a gap in my memory from 1st to 5th grade.

    Now, I remember going Trick or Treating with my friends over those years. I remember the old guy who gave out pennies, and the house that gave out toothbrushes. There was the could that gave apples, and the family that wrapped Bible verses around mini Snickers bars. And there was the family that turned their home into a Haunted House that you could go through. I remember the junior high boys that would throw eggs, toilet paper, and water balloons at people. I remember families being out, and the police driving slowly through our neighborhood, keeping an eye out, making sure it was safe, and trying to catch those boys on their bikes. I remember the years my mom took me and my friends out, and the times my dad took us.

    But nothing when it comes to my costumes from those years. It’s a blank, while also it feels like it’s on the tip of my tongue, but still won’t materialize.

    It’s a very strange feeling to not be able to remember this. Like, I know it was a big deal dressing up, and taking time to figure out my costume. I know my mom would help me put it together… but I just can’t remember.

    Odd…

  • Mom’s Out of Town! What to Eat?

    Not that this happens very often, but the wife is out of town for a work conference, which means it’s just me and the kid this week. This situation means different things to different people. For my wife, this conference is an opportunity to network, gain more knowledge, and further her career. For me, it is a little more work taking care of the kid by myself, but I am happy that I can help support my wife’s career while at the same time, I get the home office to myself, so I can work on my writing projects. For the kid, who is a little sad that mom’s not around, but she is tempering this because in her mind, she gets to eat fast food with dad. And I know that’s true because the kid said that to me last night.

    Now, let me explain…

    See, on the whole, we really don’t eat fast food in our family. We try to cook at home as much as possible, and when we don’t feel like cooking, we either order out, or go to a local restaurant. When we do eat fast food, it’s usually because we are traveling on the road and need something quick. When the kid usually gets fast food, it’s because she’s over at a friend’s home, and it turns out to be a big treat for her – in the “forbidden fruit” kind’a idea of a treat. The wife is more adamant about no fast food as compared to me, but we are both in agreement that the kid needs to have a healthy relationship with food, and she needs to know how to cook healthy for herself when she heads out on her own.

    That was a real long way to go to say that dad get her Chipotle last night. And I do really like Chipotle, it is my one weakness; if I can get it without catching any grief from the wife, I will.

    But the kid has upped the ante; She wants to try Taco Bell. And I am torn on this one. I used to eat a lot of Taco Bell when I was in college, but I didn’t eat it for flavor – I ate it because it was cheap. I am pretty sure the kid wants it because normally she would never get it, but we have good Mexican food in our neighborhood; two good restaurants, and three taco trucks. Maybe they are a little more expensive, but they taste way better!

    I know that I will cave, and I know that I will suffer for it.

  • A Wave of Overwhelmed (Unedited)

    I need to learn this and stop being surprised when it happens…

    The kid got sick over the weekend, and it through everything off.

    We aren’t mad at the kid for getting sick, because getting is sick is what kids do about half of the time. No, we were both amazed and taken aback by how much the kid’s illness destroyed out mental wellbeing.

    Let me explain…

    We had a fun, but busy weekend planned. We were going to get our Halloween pumpkin, and complete other Fall errands. The kid was going on a sleepover with a friend, and there was her soccer match on Sunday. Then we had shoe shopping planned, well you get the idea… Lots of stuff.

    But for the past few days, the kid had been saying that she wasn’t feeling right, and she did have a stuffy nose. Anyway, since she was going to a sleepover, and being around a bunch of kid for soccer, I thought, just to eliminate any questions, that we’d pop in to the local minor emergency clinic to check her out. And that’s when we found out that she was actually, really sick, and contagious for the next 24 hour before the antibiotics kicked in.

    In one sense, I felt a little good that I was a responsible parent and took my kid in, and got her the care that she needed.

    But what me and the wife also felt was that our entire weekend, if not life, had just spun outta control, and NOW we were over whelmed with everything that we had to take care of. We even felt a little paralyzed, unable to get up off the couch to take care of anything other than our kid. We were both surprised at how fast this feeling of helplessness came over us. In all honesty, we have dealt with much much worse things and situations, and handled it with a smile and a good sense of humor. This was a pretty minor issue… but our reaction was completely deflated and defeated.

    By Sunday, we had snapped out of it and righted the ship. Things are all better, but we’re back on track. Yet, even this morning, we were still bewildered by our reaction from Saturday.

    Just… surprising.

  • Short Story Review: “13.1 Septillion Pounds” by Emily Rinkema

    Short Story Review: “13.1 Septillion Pounds” by Emily Rinkema

    (The short story “13.1 Septillion Pounds” by Emily Rinkema appeared on September 19th, 2025 at Okay Donkey.)

    Image from Okay Donkey

    I like being a dad. Fatherhood has been more rewarding than I imagined. And I will also say that parenting is harder than I thought possible because unforeseen changes seem to happen every three months. Just when I think I got it down, life with the kid takes a right turn. Though me and the wife had plans and best intentions, we learned that we weren’t in control. Reading Emily Rinkema’s cute and humorous “13.1 Septillion Pounds,” I was reminded of all of those emotions, especially when our kid was still a squirmy baby.

    The premise of the story is that two parents go to wake their baby only to find that the child has written math formulas and equations on the walls the night before. The math is accurate, as two mathematicians arrive and verify. I feared this setup was going to lead to a one-note joke; kid does something crazy therefore the parents have a crazy reaction.

    I needn’t have worried.

    What the story is playing on is the unintended consequences of the parents’ well intended actions. Perhaps the Grandma was correct and the child is just gifted, and this situation would have come about inevitably. Or, maybe it was the mobile displaying the galaxy that influenced the baby? Clearly the basketball that the father left in the crib helped the child formulate the weight of Earth. Though I’m not sure I know a parent that would leave a Sharpie in their child’s crib, but hey, I can let that one go. The truth, and the humor for that matter, of this story lies in an honest fear and hope that parents have; they hope their children will do better than them, but fear that in succeeding the child will become someone they won’t understand.

    The conclusion that the parents reach is correct, and one which makes the world right again. It is wholesome, right and honest, all the things that I hope parenting is. Most of the time, I have no idea what I am doing as a father. It’s a scary tough job. But being able to help my kid become who they are is a deep and profound privilege. It’s just a really bumpy ride that loves to make a bunch of turns.

  • Playing Sports (Unedited)

    My kid is on her school’s soccer team, and she loves it. We love it too, as it is the best way for her to burn off the huge amounts of energy that she has in reserve, and it keeps her off a screen. I don’t know if she will be a life longer soccer player/fan and honestly, I don’t care. I like that she’s playing on a team, and doing something physical.

    If you are not aware, I come from a very competing family. I wasn’t blessed with the athletic gene (though I wasn’t too bad at tennis) but playing and winning at games was a big thing in my family growing up. Lots of board games and wiffleball in the back yard. With two older brother who were nine and seven years older than me, it was difficult to beat them at sports as a kid, but that didn’t stop me from trying. My oldest brother played baseball, and my other brother was all about basketball. I tried my hand at both, but didn’t have the skills. I could through a baseball well, but couldn’t hit to save my life. As for basketball, I don’t ever remember feeling that I was coordinated enough to be good at it.

    My father had a rule in our house, which was we had to play a sport up until we turned sixteen. After I washed out of Little League, and junior high basketball didn’t have a place for me, my father suggested that I take up tennis, which was a sport he played. I took lessons once a week for two years, and I got kind’a good, but not that good. But my father’s point did sink in; you have to stay active and physical, or you will just go pot.

    So, I guess I am keeping the tradition alive. Going to keep her in a sport until sixteen, when she can decide for herself if she wants to continue.

    When I turned sixteen, I stopped the tennis lessons, and committed myself to my high school’s theatre department. Which, in a round about way, is also a team sport.