Tag: Parenting

  • Lost Night of Sleep

    We had a rough night of sleep. More like, we had a rough night of not sleeping.

    I’m a night owl, and if I had my choice, I would stay a night owl forever! But, I’m not twenty-four anymore, and as I have more things to live for, and as get closer to my death and further from my birth, I am starting to take my health more seriously. In that regard, I am trying to get more sleep to help regulate my body, or whatever it is that my doctor told me I needed to do to lose weight, and live for a long time.

    I have been making progress. I got one of those health apps on my phone, and I have noticed that I am moving from five hours of sleep, to very closely to getting six hours of sleep. The goal is seven, and if one day comes and I get eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, I might actually be dead.

    Then last night, we had a rough one.

    My daughter normally is a great sleeper. Like, she’s out in five minutes after hitting the pillow. In fact, she’s always been like that, even as a baby. We had very few nights where she was cranky and wouldn’t sleep. It was a blessing that we were very grateful to receive. Yet, last night wasn’t her night.

    See, she had a test this morning at school, and even though she’s an A+ student and on top of all her school work, tests do make her very anxious. So, before bed, we talked about her feelings, what she was nervous about, what she hoped would happen. All the normal steps we take when she has a very important day in the morning. And after we put her to bed, she was back up in about ten minutes. We did the same thing again, and talked through all of her feelings, making sure she knew we were here to support her no matter what happened, and also building up her confidence for taking the test.

    She was down for about an hour, and then she got up again, but this time she was sleep walking. This is also a normal reaction that she has when there is a big day ahead of her. Usually, we can gently get her back into bed. But last night, she was up three more times, and with each occurrence, she was angrier and angrier. And each time, we remained calm, got her back into bed, and tried to sooth her to sleep. The final episode was at 1am, and I have to be up at 5:30 to get our family going.

    And she was tired this morning when I got her up, but she had no memory of the night before. She remembers getting up the first time, but nothing else. I don’t believe that the kid is trying to deceive me, I don’t think she was lying. I know that the best thing to do in these situations is not to draw too much attention to the night before, and make her feel guilty. It happened, and we are all okay, and we are all here to support each other.

    On the way to school this morning, she was bubbly, and said she was ready for her test. Then we ran into a friend, and the two of them talked Percy Jackson books, and summer camps. I guess she’s okay; I mean, I won’t know till after school. She seems okay, but sometimes that isn’t always the truth.

  • Parent/Teacher Day

    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?

  • 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.

  • 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.