Tag: aging

I think I am becoming Ward Cleaver…

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Being a parent is without a doubt one of the highlights of my life, at times it has also held a few of the lowest points in my life. I never received a manual or “how to” book on raising children. But then who has? Everything we do as parents is a direct result of how we were reared by our parents.  Some of it may even be attributed to a few of the television shows we watched.  I prefered “Leave it Beaver”, in my fantasy family Ward Cleaver was my dad, Wally and the Beaver were my brothers. Yeah born a Cleaver how great would that have been?

Out of fantasy land and back to the real world!

I have been known to pick up and peruse the occasional parenting book written by one of Oprah’s top pick guru’s looking for answers. I have also been known to hold up the grocery store line a time or two while turning the pages on more than my fair share of “parenting” magazines. Then there are the times I have been patiently listening to the endless stream of unwarranted advice coming from the endless gaggle of distraught moms and dads purging their souls at church of school functions.  And as referenced earlier I can’t leave out the wonderful advice given to me time and again by my parents. The same people who apparently live in a fantasy world when it comes to recalling exactly how I was raised. Yes that’s right in their eyes it was all snow cones, marshmallows and ponies for yours truly. 

Yet with all this second and third-party knowledge floating in my head, for some reason (unbeknownst to me) it is still a day-to-day challenge ensuring my child is being raised properly.  Over the years I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing many parent/child relationships grow and flourish; I have also seen the unpleasant side of the same relationship failing miserably. A relationship failing so badly one cant help but stand back and wonder what the heck happened?  How on earth did this child grow to be in charge of the relationship? Why is this child demanding, disrespectful, and belligerent? The answer is simple; the parent opted to become the child’s friend. 

When I was younger I would daydream about what my children would look like, how they would behave and most of all, I would wonder what kind of relationships we would have together. I thought about all the normal scenarios, like if it was a boy we would go hunting and fishing, play baseball together, camp in the backyard, go on bike rides and build a tree house! Work on cars in the driveway and farm equipment out back.  Nothing a couple of MEN can’t handle, and nothing is better than working side by side with your son, your friend.

 If it was girl, she would be my little princess, the apple of my eye, and mom would dress her up in the cutest of clothes. I would be her protector, her daddy, the man who would melt at her smile all while cleaning my shotgun as her first date arrived.  Now don’t get me wrong I also have plans to teach her about hunting and fishing, keeping her girly with a little tomboy thrown in for good measure.  Of course this will prepare her mentally as she begins taking care of herself against those awful boys she’ll encounter, due to her stunning beauty. But at the end of the day, she will be my little angel and we will always be friends. Boy or girl, it didn’t matter, we will always be friends… Or will we???

What I have determined over time is this; I am not my child’s friend. I will never be my child’s friend. I am something way more in-depth, and incredibly more important than a friend. Whenever I hear an adult say “me and little insert name here are best friends”, I cringe and instantly think oh gosh you are so wrong, and inevitably when I finally have the opportunity to meet that child it is obvious who controls the relationship. (Hint: it’s not the parent). It really is sad to see a parent bowing to the will of a 6-year-old all in the name of friendship.

Maybe Ward Cleaver had it right? 

Ward solved every problem with a calm cool disposition. He never wavered and was always fair in distribution of punishment. His children loved him and his wife adored him. Now I know this was Television.  A writers idea of what family life should be. But did they really have it wrong? And why was Wards way of doing things so effective? Why?

I have thought about this long and hard coming to only one logical conclusion.  He was not his childrens friend. I have also found my parenting style somewhat the same for I too am not my childs friend; I am my child’s parent. That’s right I said it! In this feel good, words hurt, everyone gets a trophy, nobody loses, you need to express yourself society I have chosen to not be my childs friend, but instead focus on being the best parent I can possibly become!  

Now let that sink in for a moment.

So I know many of you are saying “that’s bunk”! Some of you may even ask yourself “is there a difference”? We’ll let me tell you fellow readers, I believe there certainly is a difference! To me (my opinion only) its like this….

Friends come and go, friends can be spoken to in anger then if all is not patched up, friends can be discarded like yesterdays trash, no longer being called a friend. Yet a new friend will take the old ones place in a matter of time. (And yes that statement is a generalization) A friend is just that, a friend an acquaintance. They travel through our lives like the wind, coming and going only to reappear when ever and where ever they choose. Don’t misunderstand what I am implying for a true friend can in fact be an important part of your life!  Someone you may grow to rely on, someone who may be an important part of who you have become or may become.  Someone who stands by your side for most of your life. We all have friends we have known since childhood, some we may even trust more than family members.  When it comes to raising a child though, you need more than what friendship brings to the table. Your child needs strong, loving parents providing guidance in every facet of their life.

Heres the shocker! (once again my opinion)

Parenting means telling your child NO and meaning it, standing by it, never wavering. Parenting means letting them make mistakes, even though you can’t stand to see them fail. But fail they will and you will be right beside them, guiding them to an enlightened outcome. Parenting means punishing them when they have done wrong even though it’s an inconvenience for YOU! Yep that’s right, I can’t tell you how many times I have seen parents throw down the stern “this is how its gonna be” only to back pedal a few seconds later because it hurt their little ones feelings!  Parenting means loving them unconditionally without question, regardless of what or who they have become. Parenting means sticking your nose in their business when they become teenagers, continuing to screen, observe and learn about every aspect of their lives and their friends lives as well. Parenting means teaching them the importance of a job well done along with the repercussions of a job unfinished or done poorly. Parenting means making mistakes yourself, recognizing those mistakes then apologizing afterwards.  Even though you want to be perfect in your childs eyes they will respect you more for your imperfections and ability to rebound from those mistakes. Parenting means sometimes you need to cry when they cry and laugh when they laugh, even though you may not think what they were experiencing was worth crying or laughing over. Parenting means teaching them how to give and receive love unconditionally. Of course this is done by example. Good parenting will give them more emotional stability and knowledge about who they are than any parent/friendship.  It will also give them the skills needed to grow, eventually becoming strong adults along with great friends themselves.

Parenting your child will always be one of the most challenging ventures undertaken. But in the long run its an investment well worth the risk. 

I am very proud to say I’m a parent to my children.

Are you?

Side note: I also believe once your children are adults you never stop being their parents.  But because they are now adults, it is a little easier developing a more “friend like” relationship if you so choose.

A horrible Easter poem..

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Oh easter candy that’s left behind, I hear your faint call, you are on my mind.

It really doesn’t matter what kind that you are, a toffee, a peep or a dark chocolate bar

I walk through the kitchen avoiding your stare, yet my brain calls my sweet tooth with an evil dare.

I have given up sweets for the betterment of health, so taking you now should be done with great stealth.

The kids are still watching, the wifes on high alert. I move into the kitchen and slide you up under my shirt.

The closet, the bedroom or just sneak outside, to get on my bike and go for a ride.

But in the end it’s just us, sitting on the edge of my bed, the bag is half gone, sugar races to my head.

I let out a sigh of orgasmic relief, for in a few moments I will be overcome with great grief.

The guilt oh the guilt, I shall certainly be hung. The youngest has found me, my bell has been rung.

No guiltier man was found by our family jury.  In the end it was worth it, I enjoyed the last Cadbury.

An awful poem written for all you candy junkies such as myself who hate this holiday for the endless amounts of candy that are left in the house afterwards! Bags upstairs, bags downstairs, candy in little bowls and hidden in the cupboards. I crave it I need it, it talks to me, telling me its ok to have just one more!  Who cares if its 250 calories a piece! So what if you can devour three or four pieces at a time! It’s just candy right?  Its only once a year, right? Live a little, have some more, heck if you eat it all then there will be no more and you can go right back to your low-calorie, bland, tasteless diet that you have enjoyed so much over the last year. Just remember, your life insurance doesn’t pay out if its suicide! Self induced candy coma suicide! Fatty!

So my advice to you is, stay strong! Look the other way, let the kids eat it all and when you go to bed tonight and you hear the candy talking to you. Get up, and go make yourself a bowl of oatmeal. Your future diabetes will be in check and Wilfred Brimley will be proud of you.

 

 

 

Is it past my bedtime?

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Saturday evening 2200 hours.

I stare at my computer screen wondering what to write.  My brain carries the sound of white noise as I sip the last of my sleepytime tea. I am showered and fresh, pajamas are on, my hair still dripping slightly. My wife comes up the stairs, inquiring about my 40 mile stare.  I state matter of factly; I can’t think of a thing to write. She replies maybe its past your bedtime, why dont you come to bed.

Hmm maybe???

Wait a minute, have I finally reached the age where I must be tucked neatly into bed before midnight? Jeopardy is over and apparently I can’t seem to make it through Wheel of Fortune! Should I bust out the walker and start bitching about the horrible service after 5pm at the local Denny’s! I can hear myself now; Holy crap they never remember my senior discount!! This cant be so! We are talking about me! King of late night! Ruler of the stars! Howler to the moon! God who surveys the breaking morning sun! Why you have no idea the powers I hold in regards to being an all nighter!! I will be damned if you think for one minute I am ready to turn down my hearing aids, lay on the Apsercreme, drop the old chompers in the Poli-dent and call it an evening!

This cat could party till dawn baby! Thats right, start drinking at 5pm and walk into the house as the sun breaks over the Sierra Mountains, take a little nap and hit it hard again! Oh yeah I was that guy! No beer I hadn’t tasted, no place I wouldn’t party, no time I needed to be home! Yep a regular “Frank the Tank”!  When it came to work I wasnt much different.  Fire the truck up at 3am hit the road and arrive home at 9pm. Grab a little grub, hit the hay and do it all over again! That was me, a regular night owl.  Candle burner from both ends! Night-watchman to society! It was awesome! Plenty of time to sleep when you die! Right? RIGHT???

So what the Hell happened? How in the world did I end up sitting here on a Saturday night with tea? Not even a shot of something in the tea! Just tea! In my pj’s, barefoot, wet, and boring.  How sad is that? No really, how much worse could this possibly be? Gosh, now I am kind of feeling sorry for myself.  Where did my wild side go? Where did it disappear too? I mean I can’t even feel it anymore, its like a dull, numb ache inside.

Oh wait; now I remember.

My wild side slowly evaporated after four kids, a mortgage and multiple responsibilities. Helping a few friends say goodbye to their wild side’s ate away at mine for a while. I closed the door on my wild side when I took on the challenge of becoming a firefighter. The last nail in my wild side’s coffin was after my first few years on the job picking up the after math of many other people’s wild side’s gone horrendously wrong.  Yep the all nighter, wild sided “Frank the Tank” Betty was gone for good.  Good riddance!

So here I sit staring at my computer wondering what to write and suddenly it doesn’t seem so bad that I am in my comfy pajamas with the last drop of sleepytime tea hovering over the bottom of my mug. My family is asleep, quiet has fallen over our house and I am the last one up.

Oh yeah I still got it!

Only five….

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The room is empty his bed made up. An eerie silence has befallen a house filled with chaos.   Although there are six, one would think an absence would go unnoticed.  That five would be alright?  An empty chair at the table would bring no discernible question. Joy would come from one less to make lunch for, one less to ensure readiness for school, one less to pat on the head say I love you and kiss goodbye as that one passed through the door. One less….. Yes…

One would be wrong.

He brings a smile to my face everyday. I feel he brings smiles to many faces during the day.  He has the same troubles most lads have at eleven.  Staying focused in school, interjecting during adult conversations at the most inappropriate of times, picking fights with his little brother, while idolizing his older one.  He is wicked smart yet chooses to only do what is required when the subject matter doesn’t suit his liking.  But what child doesn’t behave that way? He loves all animals, big and small, and will cry at the drop of a hat upon learning af a harmed creature.  Horses have become his passion as he yearns for every moment he can ride in the ring.  He is big and strong, quiet, and funny, boisterous and obnoxious, yet humble when the moment requires.  I have not met a soul who thinks anything but the highest regards for this young lad.

He is gone on a field trip, away from home since yesterday.  I know not of his specific where about, I cannot speak with him as he has no cell phone.  It is silly when you think about it really. But I never understood how badly I need his presence in my life.  I have become as dependant on him as he remains dependant on me.  I love all my children and feel the same sickening heartbreak when one is not around.  My worry radar is on overload, my sense of protective parenting is on the highest of alerts. I feel as though I am electrified with no way to shut down the power.

How did our parents do it, I wonder?  How did they get through this feeling, like that of a lost appendage?  A hand, gone, a finger missing, my nose cut off to spite my face? It’s all there, holding me hostage until he arrives home safely.  I dislike this feeling immensely!  It doesn’t get easier with the next child as I have just realized.  I really thought it would, yet its only more complex.  How will I behave when I am down to the littlest member of our family.  Will I need a straitjacket for a specified period of time? Xanex and whiskey to dull the pain?  I am not sure, but I know this, I feel as though I just heard another grey hair pop from my skull!

I love you Jake! You are a reminder to me of why I became a parent.  I never felt it was my right to have children, I have always known it as a privilege.  You, your two brothers and one sister, remind me of that everyday.  I challenge myself everyday to do my very best to guide you all to adulthood.  I pray everyday that what ever challenges you face you know to trust that your parents will be there for you.  I pray everyday that these little spots of freedom you encounter during the course of your childhood only strengthen your resolve to return home once you have ventured out into the real world as adults.  For no matter what the reason, no matter what the need the door to your home will always be open for you to return.

Now hurry up and get home so I can hug you!

Parent date night

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Forget candlelight and romance! Throw away the preconceived notion of dancing until dawn. A night at the opera in the city followed by a moonlight stroll along the shoreline, ridiculous! You see, I have found the ultimate date night for parents! An evening filled with laughter, food, shopping and a stroll along the parkway!  Oh yes its true!  Wine, it’s there, gourmet fare, got it! Supplies to cover any unexpected emergency? Yep, right inside the door! Movies? Ah yes! Dessert? Only as much as you can eat!!! Valet parking? Sadly no. So there isn’t everything you’d ever want for a date night but it’s still pretty fantastic!

If you are a parent or married couple with kids this is the place for you!

COSTCO

Yep that’s right ladies and gentlemen, my wife and I have been clamoring to go on a date quite some time.  Between Softball, swimming, horses, fair animals and 4-H it seems our calendar is full 99% of the time!  So tonight after a long day of breaking apart domestic disputes between our four lovely (sarcasm) children! My wife mumbles an exasperated “I have to go to COSTCO”.  We are never going to be alone ever again are we?  This is usally where the sobbing begins….

Hold that thought honey!

Enter the infamous COSTCO! Entertainment mega, all in one, grocery, everything household and then some superstore to the masses.  I use the word entertainment in describing COSTCO, because once you look around it’s quite obvious you arent in Kansas anymore. (Unless of course you are at a COSTCO in Kansas then it’s a moot point)

So being rather quick at deducing problems I arrived at a summation; the only way we’re going to achieve some alone time would be to abandon the little heathens (aaahhhhemmm our sweet children) at home to fend for themselves while we stroll the isle ways of the local COSTCO hand in hand. All together now…  AAAAHHHHHHH!

So I locked up the weapons, hid the duct tape and padlocked the knife drawer. Left the 15-year-old in charge with more than ample directions to insure his success.  Told said 15-year-old not to play XBox ( hard request to make with a straight face) the whole time, but focus instead on his little brother who is starving for big brothers attention.  Turned to the middle two, pointed a short stumpy finger at them with a reminder that nothing should be damaged or misplaced upon our arrival home. I received a tweedle dee and tweedle dumb nod of acknowledgment.  Then without haste I swept the misses off her feet and into the car with hopes of clearing the driveway before one of them felt the need to ruin the moment with an unfounded emergency!

My wife and I laughed as we cruised down the road with no kids in the car, stereo up loud pumping some 80′ Van Halen, sunroof open we’re pushing 75mph, whoop whoop! We continued to laugh the way I imagine D.B. Cooper chuckled after stealing $200,000.00 dollars and possibly committing the perfect crime! It was ours all ours!  Two, maybe three hours without interuption! Oh sure we would be surrounded by other families, No doubt we would hear children crying and screaming, fighting and whining! But they weren’t ours!!! T-H-E-Y-W-E-R-E-N-T-O-U-R-S! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

We arrived at COSTCO immediately finding a parking spot right up front. (good sign so far) grabbed a cart and off we strolled through checkpoint Charlie.  I flashed my “executive” members card which instantly lets the fine young security lad know that, well, I m kind of a big deal! He acknowledges my glossy black plastic ticket to paradise with a sly wink and nod! Without haste the privileged are ushered inside! Let the carnage begin!  Its only once you are inside the magnitude of this building truly takes your breath away.  It lays before us like a blank canvas of consumerism! Waiting for us to fill it with colors and vision.  Each item placed into our cart is an expression of our lives.  A snapshot of likes and dislikes.  We are a tapestry smeared with food, wine and bathroom supplies!

Our evening is proceeding well, I feel a second date may arise from this encounter.  We are chatting like we’ve known each other most of our lives! (oh wait we have) We also find ourselves blindly strolling down each and every isle.  We have no need for a 50lb bag of kitty litter, but it’s reassuring to know if we did need some it was there! The international fare is delicious! There are free food tasting stations spread throughout the store allowing you to sample a little bit of everything from around the world on sale this week.  Brilliant!!  Halfway through the store I stopped the cart, took my wifes hand, slowly leaned forward-looking her dead in the eye, I proclaimed ever so softly: do you hear that my love? She chuckeld, snuggled up real close to me, then placed her other hand over my heart. While pressing up against my chest, she whispered I do.  I hear it so loudly it hurts.  Silence.

Somewhere between 20lb tubs of peanut butter and 54 packs of 4 ply toilet paper, in a Sunday packed COSTCO, two people held each other in silence. Neither one of us could hear the hundreds of people talking.  No kids screaming at us, no little children needing something every two or three minutes.  No teenagers fighting over the remote control eventually ending up wrestling where inevitably someone gets hurt.  No back talking, sniveling, whining, complaining or crying and that’s just from us!

Nope a romance was rekindled today, a date was made and kept.  We didn’t need all those fancy date night stereotypes to make it happen.  Some may refer to me as a cheap bastard, or possibly a loser husband for not blocking out the time, creating a proper night away.  I say pishaw! I took a bad situation and improvised! By the end of the day my wife professed her undying affection and I still ended up footing the bill for $350.00 dollars!  (approximate cost of dinner and the opera for two) The only difference is instead of one night at the opera with dinner afterwards; the Ipod is charged up and we’re all going to eat for weeks!

Whose the loser now!!!

A Revelation

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Today I spent the better part of the afternoon looking forward to settling in to write something humorous.  Feeling the need for a little laughter in my life opened my eyes to numerous opportunities as I traveled about.  Many ideas floated around in my dome, so funny were some, I was seen standing alone laughing out loud like a crazy person on the subway. Not a bad thing really, I think it’s a benefit to keep people off guard sometimes.

It felt as though my brain was on fire! Smile across my face, grinning from ear to ear, I could hardly keep my enthusiasm to blog under wraps. It seemed an eternity before the keys of my computer were clacking beneath my finger tips!  Writing keeps me sane and this was my moment of pure laughter ridden sanity, waiting to unfold!  I sat down at my desk with a hot cup of tea, cracked my knuckles and gazed upon my carelessly scribbled notes of hysterics.  Then something occurred to me, hitting my brain like a ton of bricks! I was rocked to the core, my eyes darted across the desk top searching for my calendar, hoping praying I was wrong.  It just couldn’t be, nope, no way!  I really didn’t need this right now!  Pure selfishness on my part really..  But I knew it was true, I could sense it, I could feel it, the pit of my stomach hurt and I began to feel nauseous.  It doesn’t matter how many years go by, its always there to remind me, to haunt me, to let me know how quickly life can change.  Everything changes in the blink of an eye and there is nothing any of us can do about it.

Back in time we go:

March 22 2001

A day like any other, right? What I didn’t know was this would be the last day I would ever have a normal conversation with my wife again.  It was the last time we went about our business like all married couples will.  Off to work, off to daycare for the boys, off to school for me.  Dinner with the family, small talk before bed, studying for me, snuggling with the baby for her. It was another average some might even say boring day.  Something I took for granted all to often. Something I think we all take for granted “all to often”.

March 23 2001

I awoke early and headed off to school, I kissed my wife on the cheek and told her I loved her.  She mumbled good luck on your test and I love you, it was the last time I would ever hear her voice.  It was the last interaction with recognition that would ever transpire between the two of us. Little did I know what test she really was referring too. It was and has been the hardest test of my life.

She had the day off and was going on a trip to the park with our oldest, the newborn and some friends.  I was in class preparing to take an exam when I received the call.  A friend of ours, with her at the park called me, panicked, nervously explaining that my wife was on the ground complaining of severe chest pain.  “She just wants to go home” was exclaimed; our friend didn’t think that was right. Little did she know how right she was!  I remained calm performing a quick assessment over the phone, quickly advising her to hang up with me and call 911!  If she didn’t do it I was going too!  I had the day off work for class, so it was my Engine Company that arrived on scene.  My guys took care of her, my guys accompanied her to the hospital, my guys made the call, reporting everything they knew directly to me. My guys were suffering too.

And so started a 19 day odyssey of emotion, heart-break, self discovery, unity, hope, and finally complete destruction of what I thought was my life.  Kimberly Nadine perished on April 10 2001 after a hard-fought battle against a failing heart.  That very moment started a journey that woke me up sending me on my way.  It was the test of my life and I am still living that test to this day.

A promise made, a promise kept…..

I promised Kim I would never forget those 19 days, I also promised I would never forget the ten years we spent together, using them as a lesson learned in how not to be a husband.  I was selfish, self-centered, egotistical and a generally a poor excuse for a spouse.  Looking back I often wonder why she chose me. She tried her best to smooth the rough edges, but before finishing the job she was gone. This left me looking into the eyes of our children, seeing her and wondering why. So I’ve made a point to never forget, every year it comes, on this day I keep my promise.  To hold that in perspective one must remember, It’s hard to take a scar and never let it heal.  To pick at the wounds of those lost until they bleed.  But I continue to do this, as a reminder of what it takes to be a better person.  The person I felt she always wanted me to become.  I kept a detailed journal over the 19 days at Stanford hospital.  On this day every year I take a moment to myself, pick up the journal I kept, let it fall open and read an entry from what ever page appears.  In 11 years the same page has never revealed itself twice.  I read it, I remember, I go through sadness, anger, and eventually peace.  It’s difficult to do, it leaves a lump in my throat, and sometimes depending on the page, it leaves me weeping.  Not for the fact she perished, not for the fact she is not here to see her children, but for the unknown.  I will never know what she felt, or how she suffered.  But I carry a fair idea due to my medical knowledge. I will never know if she gave up because I told her it was ok to go, letting her know I understood if she wanted to quit fighting.  She fought really hard through two failed operations, the odds were stacked against her.  I knew it, the doctors knew it, no one wanted to verbally say it! After I whispered it was ok, and told her I loved her I stepped out of the room to gather myself and bring her mom in to see her.  It never happened, ten minutes later she went into cardiac arrest and died.  I will never know if she heard those words I wanted so badly to take back.  I will never know if she heard me say I love you one last time. Those images can never be erased from my head, images of her dead lifeless body lying there so peaceful at rest.  Cold…….

So that brings me to today.

My cheerfulness depleted, my humor erased.  I walked to my dorm and pulled out the books that hide my journal.  In goes the good air, out goes the bad.  Head pounding, weight of a rough week on my shoulders, eyes already misting, I hold the book ever so gently as to not influence the fall of pages.  It opens…  Here is the page it fell upon.

It’s not the greatest, I wrote it 11 years ago, tired, exhausted and emotionally spent.

April 22, 2001

Its been 12 days since you’ve gone.  I am lonely and tired.  Caring for both boys by myself is exhausting.  I never realized how much I took your hard work for granted.  I promise to never do that in a relationship again.  Someday I think I will publish this journal, not just for the boys, but for all men in America.  My eyes have been opened and I feel that many as I was are walking around blind.

I want every man in America to learn these lessons now and not the hard way as I have! It’s too painful, and though many will have to learn them the hard way maybe, just maybe if one listens it will make a difference.

Men in America need to understand what true love is:

True love is not sex

True love is holding hands, not because you have to, but because you want too.

True love is knowing when to look deep in her eyes and tell her its going to be OK.

A true loving marriage does not consist of coming home to find your laundry done, your meal cooked and a warm bed to sleep in, that’s called having a maid.

True love is finding a free minute during the day to remind her you love her, and not just with words, but with actions, for they speak volumes.

True love is telling her you love her every morning, you never know when it will be your last.

True love is watching the mother of your children beam with pride at the sight of your children.

True love is never, ever going to bed angry.

True love is sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee listening.  Even though you have some place else you should be and something you want to say, just listen.

True love is letting her sleep while you take care of the kids. Not just once in a while, but on a regular basis.  They are your children too.

True love is standing back and marveling at how much one person can accomplish in your absence.  Then letting the other know how much you appreciate the effort by performing the exact same way in her absence.

True love is never losing interest, marriage isn’t easy but if you can just call her once or twice a day to listen,talk, and remind her how much you love her, your relationship will flourish.

It’s a wonderful life.

I am remarried with two more children for a total of four, as most of you know who follow my blog.  When I read my journal entry today I was fully expecting my annual tear fest to start storming and yet I realized something halfway through the page.  I have accomplished all of these snippets.  Every single one of them!  I kept my promise!  I kept it, I kept my word and I have a relationship that I never take for granted.  I am blessed, I am whole, my family is one.

In life we are often faced with difficult insurmountable obstacles that are placed in our paths of growth and exploration.  But overcome them we will, with perseverance, and will power.  Remembering who we are, where we come from and trusting in where we are going.  I never in my life thought at 34 I would be widowed with two kids.  It was a hard and bumpy ride, I pray I am never in that position again. It would have been a shame had I not learned from the experience.  But I came away from it stronger and wiser than before, able to give and receive love without question.  To trust and believe that lives can be rebuilt, relationships forged.  To get up off the floor dust myself off and start all over again. Death is never easy for anyone under any circumstances.  Some lessons are learned the hard way. It’s just the way it is…..

Remember life is a gift for you to cherish.  Dont waste it.  For all you know tomorrow is your last day.  How do you want to be remembered?

Music to my ears..

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It flows through my body like that of water down a granite pathway. Softly soothing, calming, taking away the stress of a long day. Highs and lows all covered in majestic fashion. Reverberation intentional to some, mere irresponsibility to others. Eyes closed, brain throbs, my ears are alive. Sight comes from every direction in the self-imposed darkness. I feel emotions stir, heart rate quickens, my smile expands, the crescendo brings about an orgasmic finish, leaving me discarded, alone, left to the demise of a musicians plunder.

Classical music stirs my soul. Its harmonies leave me bewildered, astounded, in awe of any human being who can create such beauty from an instrument. Strings, woods, brass, it’s all an amazing compilation, sometimes more than the brain can process. Now take 50-100 individuals all poised, ready at the call. At the swing of a conductor’s baton the heavens open so even god can rest away the weary.

As I sit typing away, staring blankly at my computer screen there is Pandora’s classical channel playing in the background. And I laugh, not a hearty laugh mind you, but more of a chuckle or child like giggle. You see I believe some things are inevitable. There are paths we choose and paths that are chosen for us, but all the while, secretly our subconscious has another path for us to venture. It’s a pathway that intersects around and through the first two as we travel through life.

When I was younger, I wanted to play an instrument, it was amazing watching people play so effortlessly. I felt deep down inside, I could also play if given the chance. Yet, it wasnt deemed cool. I struggled, was picked on for my trumpet case, and eventually put it down never to lay my eyes upon it again. Sad really. It was my true instrument of choice. I wanted nothing more than to be able to throw down a little jazz, then roll into a classical compilation with the school band. Yet as I said, I walked away, discouraged, defeated and tired of the bullying.

Later on I tried my hand at guitar. Everyone loves guitar don’t they? Come on, who didn’t drool over the left-handed riffs of Jimi Hendrix? Scream at the torturous slaughter of any guitar in the hands of Angus Young? Sit in absolute awe (if you have ever seen him live you know exactly what I mean by AWE) of Eric Clapton? It was THE instrument to play if you wanted to be cool. The only instrument to have in your hands if you wanted to impress girls! The guitar had the IT factor! I knew it and so did every boy my age who ever laid eyes upon Eddie Van Halen as youg girls threw their bras and underwear on stage during Van Halen concerts! (thank you MTV)Yet it wasnt to be. I could never get my fingers to work right, the chords were always wrong, I could not stay between frets to save my life! I was again discouraged, even with hours of tutoring defeat was inevitable. I succumbed to its nasty taste.

I swore I would never ever listen to classical music! It brought about visions of elderly men driving Cadillacs, smoking cigars, talking about their golf games. Living in Florida. My grandparents listened to it everywhere we went, it was the signature music of the geriatric set! (yes my grandparents drove a Cadillac). As I grew older, my hair was long, my musical tastes publicly were quite predictable. AC/DC. The Who, Pink Floyd, Black Sabbath, Van Halen, Van Haagar, The Police, Eddie Money, Tom Petty, Y&T, Night Ranger, Journey, RUSH to name a few. But secretly, unbeknownst to my fellow long hair rockers I listened to classical. I feared being caught and hid my choices well. Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin, Bach, Braham’s, they were all there, hidden in my “cassette” case.

The Compact Cassette, also called audio cassette, cassette tape, cassette, or simply tape, is a magnetic tape sound recording format.

Just in case there are a few young ones reading who have no idea what a music cassette is..

Yep they were stuffed in Hank Williams Jr., Conway Twitty, Alabama, and Tammy Wynette cases. Why? Because none of my friends listened to country so any examination of my two sided case would lead you automatically to the “Rock” side. No chance of discovery. I would listen to these tapes on the way home late at night or after school. Anytime I knew there was very little chance of discovery by one of my pals. It would have been instant death to be marked a classical nerd. Sometimes while driving at night I would fantasize I was behind the wheel of a BMW cruising home after the opera with my high society girlfriend. Money is no object! posh, posh, snob, snob, can’t you tell I drive a BMW and listen to classical music! The music of the highly intelligent and wealthy!

So once again here I sit, no money, no BMW, no wealthy socialite girlfriend, no multi million dollar home on the hill overlooking all you little people. But do you know what I have? Classical music. It costs me nothing yet brings me so many rewards.

Yes I am older and I no longer fear reprisal from any individual when it comes to my choices in life. I am sure I fit into the old guy status that most young people associate with classical music. But there is one little difference, in my household all my children play instruments. The oldest, previously voted male student athlete of the year, has played in the school band since 5th grade. Now a sophomore in high school he plays in two sports and the marching band. The middle child plays in school concerts and is looking forward to Junior high so he may join band, wrestling and Cross country. The youngest boy sits at the piano like some idiot savant playing what ever comes to his mind then translated through his fingers. strangely everything he plays sounds like a rehearsed piece. My wife and I sit in awe some days as he plays for 15 minutes non stop.

Classical music, all forms of music now stream from my home.

So it seems our paths have intersected. Generations past and present have worked hard to make a change. It’s ok to be what you want to be, play the instrument you want to play, listen to the music you choose to hear.

That my friends is music to my ears…

5 things I despise

theycallmebetty4 Comments

5 things I despise

Recently (10 minutes ago) I decided it was time to purge a little anger.  A little societal frustration.  I usually do this through a singular rant but today I have chosen to drop 5 mini rants upon your superior minds.  I am hoping to not be alone in these little idiosyncrasy’s as I have always felt discussion is good for the soul or at least the conscience.

So with my head held high, my britches pulled tight and my jaw squarely locked into place here they are…..

5. People who cut in line because they believe they are more important than you.

While waiting patiently for the car in front of me to finish fueling there always seems to be some A-Hole circling the islands like a shark waiting for the right time to strike.  Without regards for his own personal safety, or the feelings of the twenty other vehicles waiting in line. This moron inevitably will come in from the opposite direction and try to force his way in as the last patron is leaving.  This never works as my truck is rather large and intimidating.  I am always scowled at or given a gesture of the highest moral ranking upon exit of my vehicle.  To which I respond the same as I would one of my children.  Have some manners and wait your turn, you are no better than anyone else.

4. The California stop.

It called a STOP SIGN!!!!! Stop means stop! It doesn’t mean think about it, it’s not a suggestion for you to ponder while chatting it up on your cell phone as you go barreling through the intersection!  Dont you dare throw your hands up in disgust as I come to a full and complete stop either.  I will just drive slower to the next intersection, in fact I will continue to slow down and more closely follow all the rules of the road just to frustrate you.  Why do I do this? Because its like this you lackadaisical idiot, in the end if you don’t “STOP” someone will end up injured or killed! And statistics show it wont be you.  

3. Parents who make excuses for their childs obvious poor behavior!

Yes its ok for little Timmy to express himself, but when that involves your 8-year-old telling my 7-year-old to F@#k Off! We have a serious problem on our hands!  If you don’t have the crumpets to reprimand your child I do!  If my child were to speak that way I would hope you would reprimand him quickly and decisively! If that doesn’t sit well with you than politely remove yourself and your child from my inner circle of friends and acquaintances.  I feel as though we as a society have forgotten in the end it takes a village to raise a child. 

2.   Upselling

I am a tightwad! I didn’t used to be, but my glorious wife over the last ten years has shown me the light.  Because I am a tightwad, making a large purchase is a homework driven, educational process that leads down many paths in regards to my purchase.  My point being, when I walk through your door to make a purchase I already know what I want and exactly how much I am going to pay.  Dont play me for a fool, don’t shove useless purchase contracts in front of me and make sure you listen to the words that are coming out of my mouth!  If I tell you I don’t want the 5 year service plan then STOP.  If I make mention the added receiver for only $29.99 is something I am not interested in STOP!  I am blunt, I will let you know everything I need up front, so please just STOP. Because if you dont my next STOP is your competitor.

1.   The little twirp at the grocery store that wishes to “help” me out with my groceries!

Hey junior, look at me, no really look at me! I am a 45-year-old, 188 pound man standing 5’9 who can currently run an 8 minute mile and curl 75 pound dumbbells! I am reasonably sure that I can carry my two little bags of groceries in one hand and your scrawny, “Wheres Waldo” beanie wearing ass in the other! I know you are just doing your job, but somebody needs to train you a little better in the area of qualifying customers.  Someday when you have become my age I hope you will demand the same respect. 

So there it is! A little bolder than in times past, if I have offended anyone I do apologize.   But the way I see it the word unspoken is obviously the word most misunderstood. 

Let me know if you agree or disagree with any of my 5.  Also let me know what your 5 things are that you despise.  Sometimes they are funny, sometimes they are serious but in the end they are what makes us who we are, and that is very interesting. 

Versatile Blogger Award

theycallmebetty7 Comments

I haven’t had an orthodox career, and I’ve wanted more than anything to have your respect. The first time I didn’t feel it, but this time I feel it, and I can’t deny the fact that you like me, right now, you like me!”

You really like me………

I have been nominated for the Personal Blogger Award by Vanessa Chapman http://vanessa-chapman.com 

This is an award bloggers award to each other as a way of showing appreciation for the blogs they enjoy. I am humbled and honored.

(I plagiarized the rules from Vanessa as I feel there is no reason to re-invent the wheel.)

The rules for accepting this award are as follows:

1. Thank the award-givers and link back to them in your post. Easy-Done

2. Share 7 things about yourself. Ok hope I don’t scare anyone, but easy-done.

3. Pass this award along to 15 other bloggers. Fail! Only could nominate 13! 😦

4. Contact your chosen bloggers to let them know about the award. Will let them know as soon as I’ve posted this

Seven things about myself;

  1. I am 45 years old and I can’t wait for retirement. When I refer to retirement it is not in the sense of me walking away from a career, gold watch in hand to sit on some god forsaken island, smoking pot until I die.  On the contrary, I cant wait to start the second half of my life.  To re-invent myself and live life twice.  I have had a stellar first half, the second half can only get better.
  2. I can walk into a burning building, rescue people from a crushed or damaged vehicle, repel off a 5 story building with confidence and walk under a ladder without fear of superstitious reprisal.  But I cannot, and I mean no way, no how can I stand being in the proximity of a spider.  Those eight legged little freaks get me every time.  You want to hear a full-grown 200 pound man jump and scream like a 6th grade school girl then toss a black widow my direction.
  3. My ability to tell the dimensions of something from sight are frustratingly astounding.  Spatial relations are my thing and I am borderline “rainman” about it.  Have a picture to hang, I can tell you one side is off 1/2 inch any direction just by looking at it.  Just had your new bookshelves installed, I am the guy who within 20 seconds of being in the room knows exactly where the carpenter “cheated” or “shorted” you on material.  It makes me crazy and it makes my friends crazy as well.
  4. Scary movies are stupid and a waste of time.  I laugh through them which annoys everyone.  I can tell exactly what is going to happen when it is going to happen. 
  5. 1950’s pin-up girls are awesome.  You can have your skinny, anorexic, vegan, boney butt tooth picks.  I like my women with natural curves, and clothing that leaves something to the imagination. 
  6. When I was 10/11 while walking up my long driveway (we lived in the country) a car pulled up with a creepy guy in it who asked me if I wanted a ride.  Then told me to get in the damn car. He had one hand on the wheel and one in his trousers.  Thank god I had enough sense to run.  I still have nightmares about that guy even at 45. 
  7. I am terrified I will fail as a father.  I put up a good front, but deep down inside I always feel as though failure is right around the corner.  It’s why I write this blog.  It allows me to laugh, vent, and share my experiences.  I can look back on it when I am feeling low and remind myself of all the good I have done with my children.  I know they will laugh looking back on all this as adults.

15 bloggers to pass this award along too.

Soshi-Tech- http://soshitech.com

More valuable information in one blog than should legally be allowed in the states of California and Utah.  Everyone else is OK!

A Detailed House- http://adetailedhouse.com

I love houses and the fine art of decorating them in some of the finest trim.  If you are a closet design geek such as myself who also thinks you can take on any project, than this is the blog for you. The photography is very well done also.

Raising a Realist- http://raisingarealist.com

Scott is a mild-mannered high school English teacher. This blog is his attempt to capture all of his daughters moments.  As a parent of four, I can relate with his tag line. “126 kids but only one will wipe my but when I am old”

Mayahood- http://mayahoodblog.com

Adventure seeker, world traveler turned mother.  She has a mixture of her views on motherhood along with guest posts.  It is an entertaining blog.

Bucket List Publications- http://lesleycarter.wordpress.com

This one is near and dear to me as it is a blog that completely follows the premiss of getting out there and doing all those things you keep putting off.  They even pick some of your bucket list suggestions and through donations make it happen for you.  It’s quite the premise and I enjoy reading it immensely

A Confederacy of Spinsters- http://confederacyofspinsters.com

This is one of my favorites!  Three women from Texas, each one taking a turn writing about life trials and tribulations all under pseudo names.  Grace, Mae and Kate.  Its is always witty, relevant and fun!  I look forward to new postings they way one waits at the window for a long-awaited package from UPS. 

Musings of a stay at home Jewish Father- http://stayathometatte.wordpress.com

Another blog dedicated to a male role model at home raising his child.  Its funny and real with great pictures as he chronicles the day-to-day life of a stay at home dad.

In My Opinion- http://diane-ownes.com

Diane is on a quest to ask a different, relevant question everyday for a year. Interesting concept and I find the answers entertaining.

Debut Dad- http://debutdad.wordpress.com

Brenden is a first time dad who lives in Australia.  He blogs about juggling the changes in his life with the birth of their first-born child. Good luck Brenden and keep em coming. 

Vanessa Chapman- http://vanessa-chapman.com

Vanessa nominated my blog,  and although she is already nominated I enjoy her blog and look forward to every new edition she puts forth.  From superstition to the purchase of a new pair of boots.  She is funny and I find her blog to be a good way to blow a little time at work! Ha!

365 trinkets- http://365trinkets.wordpress.com

This blog is a reminder of how much crap we accumulate as adults.  His mission? To get rid of 365 trinkets he has stored as treasured keepsakes over a 25 year period.  The blog revolves around taking pictures of each one (for memories sake) then getting rid of said item. 

maggiemaeijustsaythis- http://maggiemaeijustsaythis.wordpress.com

A blog dedicated to writing poetry and personal trials and tribulations.  I enjoy the freedom with which she expresses herself.

Take a shower- http://takeashower.wordpress.com

A blog about Eloise and the raising of her five children.  She writes about the past and present, reflecting on the moments in time with the raising of her five children.

I am sorry to say I only have 13 to nominate for this award.  I fail!  But the thirteen I have chosen I follow with great intent.  I enjoy many other blogs but they are new to my collection and I havent gotten the chance to know them well enough yet for a nomination. 

Vanessa you were right, I also anguished over my choices.

Cooper

theycallmebetty5 Comments

 

He rises slowly with the eagerness of someone half his age.  His face is bright but his eyes tell a different story.  Sad, low and watery they show the signs of wear reserved for someone who has survived life’s tribulations.  His days remain the same, up early and out the door.  Many things to do, places to see, smells to smell and things to taste.  Life is still a curiosity to him for even though his body and mind have aged, his want has not.  He refuses to believe that pain and stiffness are a deterrent from everyday living.  When he hurts he whines, when he is stiff he stretches, when he can’t bring himself to do either he just lays there, content in the fact he is safe and secure inside the confines of his own home.

Our dog Cooper is soft and cuddly, he always smells clean and there is no better partner to have when you have had a bad day. He isn’t the first to greet you when you arrive home, but you can bet he is the last one standing by your side when the others have found shiny objects to chase in bewilderment.   As dogs go I would say the old man is one of the best.  He carries himself with poise and dignity, no frivolous sloppy tongue action with this old boy.  Nope, he is all hugs and heavy sighs.  If you get an occasional “kiss” it’s because you have truly earned his affection.  Cooper is 12 years old (thats 84 in human years)  and we have begun to face the fact he wont be with us for many more.  He moves slower and more cautiously as though he were afraid he may fall and break a hip.  His mind is wandering a bit too, akin to that of an elderly person with a bit of dementia.  Occasionally we will see him out in the yard barking at absolutely nothing. (not his style).  Wandering aimlessly as though he is lost in the confines of his own backyard.  It seems like yesterday I met this strapping young pup who would run a marathon without breaking into a pant.  Play frisbee till he dropped, then chase and even catch the occasional jack rabbit.  Now he can’t even make it to the end of the street without needing a two-hour nap afterwards. So sad really…

We have four dogs yet he is the only one our children have truly known through all phases of life.  They love all our dogs, but when the day is done, Cooper is the one who receives the lions share of affection. I am not looking forward to the day I am tasked with telling my family he has passed.  The tears will fall like rain and our hearts will swell with sorrow at the thought of life’s existence without our beloved family member.

You stare at me and its like we can speak without ever saying a word.  Its one of the things I love most about you Cooper. I cherish the way you sleep at the foot of my bed, the way you ask me to let you outside after dinner.  I love the way your fur feels on my face and the way only half of your tail wags when you are happy.  You always know when I am sad and you also know laying on my feet makes me happy. I know in my heart that you understand just how much I love you.  I am also aware that you know it wont be long until you are gone.  I secretly wish you could read this and know my heart is already breaking at the thought of ever having to say goodbye.

I love you buddy…..