Look right here! One wish for my daughter.

God is not without a sense of humor – or he has a firm grasp of irony. For the early part of my adult life I had no desire for children. Not because I was egotistical and wished to remain the center of my world; the thought of parental responsibility scared me senseless. I had convinced myself all children grow up to be degenerates where boys skip school and get into fights while girls sneak hoochie clothes in their book bags and slip out of the house after everyone has gone to sleep. I just knew if I were to become a father I would spend the better portion of my remaining years bailing a son out of jail and babysitting a daughter’s love child.

It should be noted that most who meet me say I’m very optimistic.

While being responsible for children terrified me in general, the thought of having a girl forced me to reconsider the mythical Spartan ritual of child selection. I looked at it like this, I could always resort to beating the crap out of a boy to put him on the straight-and-narrow or send him off to some militaristic boot camp if necessary, but what options do fathers have with girls? As far as I was concerned it would have been a perfectly wonderful life if no female were ever produced from my loins – until I had one.

My first child, not planned, was none other than a beautiful long lashed angel. From the moment I laid eyes on her chalky whiteness I was absolutely in love – and my life would never be the same again. Today there are only two females with whom I have difficulty telling ‘NO’. If my daughter grasped for a moment the tightness with which I am wrapped around her decade old finger she could already have a car.

I’m convinced when a man has a daughter his outlook on life should change entirely. I once had a fondness for The Swimsuit Issue and the occasional Playboy – now I go ballistic at seeing a Cosmopolitan or Vanity Fair cover in the grocery isle that shows more of the model’s skin than a nun’s habit. I’ve also become hypersensitive to what she watches; especially shows which center too much on appearance, beauty, or exhibit the occasional ‘boyfriend’ dynamic. The Bratz are Satan’s spawn.

As her father I feel this overwhelming sense of dread as my sole responsibility to be the counter-balance to a culture that will do it’s best to tell her value and worth begins and ends with her looks. Shopping malls across America are filled with untold numbers of tween and teen girls who have already drank that Kool-Aid and my anxiety hits new levels when I consider what she has waiting for her outside the purity of her elementary school hallways.

I’ve met and dated enough women to form this conclusion. The small minority I’ve known who grew up having strong, healthy, and honorable bonds with their fathers all seem to possess a higher self worth and place their value on something contrary to the vast majority of women. Just to be clear I’m not talking about ‘daddy’s girls’. I know plenty of these types who still demand a pedestal even though daddy’s been dead for 20 years – they’re lost and spoiled. Instead I’m talking about the one whose daddy not only told her she was his princess he instilled in her how value and self worth ultimately come from something more than her reflection in a mirror.

Through his complete acceptance and guidance she was given the confidence and wisdom to successfully avoid the traps and pitfalls boys – and later men – would attempt to snare her in. From him she realized she didn’t need to seek validation from strangers in unhealthy ways because her value was in something more than mere aesthetics. He accomplished this by continually reminding her, through his deliberate words and deeds, that she simply needed to

“look right here”

Meaning anytime she was tempted to take destructive paths to gain temporary approval and ultimately experience unnecessary heartache she should keep her eyes looking square into the one man’s who would always honor and respect her for who she is. By looking to him she learned how boys and men ought to treat her and she has the confidence and self-respect to demand nothing less from them. And in so doing she possesses the strength to take a step back from the edge of disaster while everything and everyone says otherwise.

Being that type of father is an admirable albeit intimidating responsibility, the result of which can be far-reaching. I believe, for me, it’s a journey that will go far beyond the occasional daddy/daughter dance or ubiquitous ‘date night’. It will require an intentionality on my part that will often be uncomfortable. Because one thing is for certain, the opportunities for her to take detours will be many and the consequences from heading down the wrong path potentially life shattering. I believe every little girl must know she’s worthy in the eyes of a man, especially her father, and that the man values her unconditionally; and I’m convinced if the girl goes long enough without either she’ll find what she’s looking for in – or from – someone else.

Everyone is different

"We could all learn from crayons: Some are sharp, some have weird names, they are all different colors, but they all have to learn to live in the same box."

10 Things I am Thankful For…

…in no particular order.

1. My 2 daughters. They keep me in check and give me a reason to keep on going when life starts kicking my ass. They are my kryptonite.
2. My job. I am very fortunate to have one.
3. My close friends that are there for me.
4. My family for being non-judgemental of me over the years.
5. Apple. My entire career has been inspired and shaped by this incredible company for the past 17 years.
6. My Mom & Dad for being able to maintain a good balance of being my parent and good friend.
7. My health thus far. So far good so good. Well according to my doc. *turns head and coughs*
8. Feeling free of any anger, hate or guilt that I might have felt over the years.
9. Starbucks. Because it’s SO good. That’s why.
10. Technology. Without it, you wouldn’t be reading this.

What are you thankful for?

Why kids need disappointment

In his book “The Private Adam” Rabbi Shumley Boteach recounts the following story. A wealthy investment banker fell on hard times after a string of bad investment decisions. On top of losing almost everything he was unable to keep his three children in their elite private boarding school. Upon learning this the rabbi took it upon himself to seek out donors in the community to help cover the costs so the children could stay in their school. His grounds for the request, as he put it, was to save the children from “the shame and humiliation they would face if they were forced to leave their school and friends because their father could no longer afford the tuition”.

The fallout from our ongoing economic crisis continues to leave frustration, anger, and especially fear in its wake. It seems very few lots have been spared from the carnage including our very own government. Families who had grown accustomed to pulling money off the tree in their backyard now find themselves living in a reality nowhere near Kansas. The financial avalanche has led to chic neighborhoods becoming littered with foreclosures as the byproduct of biting off more than one can chew, six figure salaries traded in for unemployment checks, and everyone reminiscing on the ‘ole days asking if it will ever be so good again. Yet anyone who has lived long enough knows that part of the human experience includes a healthy dose of challenge and specifically disappointment. While each handles them differently we all know it’s an occupational hazard.

But when it comes to our kids and disappointment the idea takes on a whole new meaning. As parents we want to shield our children from negative consequences, especially if it was our choices that created them. But if we protect our children from all of life’s ups and downs is that good parenting or are we setting them up for even tougher lessons down the road? If we provide cover for all the arrows our child will surely face does she ever learn to manage them when we aren’t around?

To the Rabbi’s dismay his pleas fell on deaf ears and the children transferred to another school. It’s unknown what was said or how the children reacted, but had Rabbi Boteach been successful in his attempts what might have been the outcome? While their dignity may have stayed in tact how would their future expectations been affected? Would they simply assume someone will always step in to fix everything should it all come crashing down? And would there be any point of reference when making their own life choices?

No father wants his child to experience disappointment or pain. As parents we are hard-wired to protect our kids but trying to cushion them from all adversity creates an adult who doesn’t posses the mental or emotional fortitude to deal with any trials or tribulations. One has to look no further than the proverbial rich kid for an example. The Paris Hilton’s or Lindsay Lohan’s of the world are the quintessential snotty-nosed brats who were never told ‘no’ and their actions and life choices reflect as such.

"Life isn’t always fair and bad things do happen to good people."
I believe the strength of character gained by these children leaving their school far outweigh the shame and humiliation potentially avoided by staying. And the prospective benefactors knew as much and understood a basic life fact the rabbi failed to grasp – life isn’t always fair and bad things do happen to good people.

I want my kids to learn early on that life doesn’t always play fair and the good guy doesn’t always win. They must learn there are going to be times when they win but there will be just as many where they get the short end of the stick. And the best I can do when they do come is be there to support them and offer that most southern of truisms:

“If this is the worst thing that happens to you, you’re going to be fine!”

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

My 10 Most Awesomest Things

"The Morning Stiffy", which is what the local rock station morning show DJ’s call themselves, had a little blurb this morning on what they considered to be the most awesomest things ever. That got me to thinking of a list of my own. And I decided to exclude obvious choices like my kids, love, family, oxygen, LIFE (lol), and things of that nature. I mean, those should go without saying, right?
So without further adu, here is my list of what I consider to be the ten most awesomest things ever!

1. The Internet – I gotta be completely honest…I have NO idea what I did before there was the internet. Hell, I grew up in a world without the internet so I guess my age is the reason for my memory issues. But really, is there anything in this world any more awesome than the freakin’ internet? No…I thought not.

2. Earth – I’m not going to start talking about UFO’s or aliens or anything like that, but think about it: we live on a planet that is the perfect distance away from the sun, contains the perfect amount of oxygen, has the perfect gravitational pull, and contains all of the perfect elements required to sustain life. Seriously…how absolutely awesome is that?? We don’t live in a bubble…we don’t live underwater…we don’t live in space. We live on the perfect planet. I don’t know about you, but that’s pretty frickin’ awesome.

3. Lightning – This item came up during the radio segment this morning because of the awesome photographs taken at Eyjafjallajökull, the Icelandic volcano. Apparently, the perfect “ingredients” are present to create “volcano lightning: water droplets, ice, and possibly hail…all interacting with each other and with particles, in this case ash from the eruptions, to cause electrical charging. Don’t believe me? CHECK THESE OUT!!

4. Physical intimacy – No, this isn’t just about sex. There is something unspeakably intangible about being TRULY physically intimate with somebody…body, mind, and soul. It’s absolutely one of the most awesomest things you can possibly imagine. There is just something about that unspoken connection that turns the dial all the way up to 10.

5. Bacon – Honestly…could I possibly ignore this wonderful, glorious food? Is there any other food that is as spectacular as bacon? I could probably go on and on about bacon, but I’ll leave the pork-lovefest up to QTMama. She’ll give you all the bacon-love you could ask for.

6. Star Wars – My mom was commenting over the weekend how strange life can be sometimes. I mean, here I was…a very young kid in the late 70’s loving a sci-fi movie and all of the action figures that came as a result…and my nephew, 30 years later, is going through the exact same thing now. From Darth Vader to Darth Maul, from one Death Star to another, I love everything there is to love about the Star Wars universe. Whether it’s Han Solo shooting first or Yoda kicking ass with a green lightsaber, there is little else in the world of entertainment that is more awesome than Star Wars…especially now that my nephew is a fan.

7. Dr. Pepper – I know that some other people may have placed something like tequila or beer in this spot, but to me there is no beverage more awesome than the beverage with 23 flavours, Dr. Pepper. I can unabashedly unequivocally say that I’m 100% addicted to this beverage. I could drink it all day every day without fail. Of course, my insides probably hate me at this point in my life…but Dr. Pepper has been totally worth it. Mmmm…I’m drinking some as I write this.

8. Ninjas – Seriously…how freakin’ awesome are ninjas??? They wear black…they wear masks…they kick ass…they use weapons…they disappear once they’re finished disposing of their victims. The only way to make ninjas more awesome would be to have them eat bacon and drink Dr. Pepper while watching Star Wars in a lightning storm.

9. That’s What She Said – It’s the most juvenile, infantile, immature, silly little childish joke on the face of the planet. And you know what? It’s the single greatest thing that can bring a smile to my face no matter how bad my day may be going. I can’t even begin to describe just how much I love that joke. Well…maybe I can.

10. The female form – Honestly, this should be #1 on my list. But y’know, I don’t want to come across like some kind of douchebag pervert. To me, the single most awesome thing on the face of the planet is the beauty that is the body of a woman. And what’s better is that a lot of women also appreciate the beauty of the female form…and that’s even MORE awesome!

Heh…

So what about you? What do you find to be the MOST AWESOMEST thing ever?

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Dating Advice from a Dad to His Daughter

As a single dad on the dating scene, I can totally relate to my daughter as she dates. The butterfly feelings of meeting someone new, the nerves that come with letting that person know you're interested, the anxiety of wondering if they'll return the love/like/lust, the sheer pleasure in holding hands, kissing, and spooning (er, that last part is for me, not my daughter. Yet!) No matter the age, romantic relations can be equal parts madness and bliss.
I already blogged about how dating for single parents is tougher than a high school crush. But in some ways, it's also easier.
And so, I wanted to write an open letter of advice to my daughter, to get us on the same dating-wise page.
Dear Pumpkin...

You've reached an age where you are starting to explore the pleasures of spending intimate time with members of the opposite sex. I know you'll steal moments with a dating crush, then not tell me about it. That's okay. I used to tell my parents I was going bowling, then make out with my girlfriend for hours on end. (Now that I'm a parent, I realize my own parents probably weren't as dumb as I made them out to be when I was a teen!)
Tip #1: Don't fall in love with a teacher. It never leads to anything good. I had classmates in high school get involved with teachers. I had friends in college sleep with professors. None of those relationships lasted, and they caused a ton of other problems for all parties involved. (Older men younger women dating relationships can be awkward for a tight-knit community like a school.) Just remember to keep your eyes fixed on other students, and leave it to me, the single dad, to be hot for teacher when appropriate. (Haha. If any readers are getting bent out of shape by that cheeky remark, go fix a cocktail and down it before reading more!)
Tip #2: Don't send dirty text messages to crushes, or anyone you're dating. Trust me, at your age, stuff like that has a tendency to end up on social networking sites, right when a college admissions counselor is reviewing your application. Feel free to send as many dirty text message jokes as you like - from a friend's phone! (Haha. Not really. My daughter has had friends misuse her phone, and it's no phone for a parent to deal with the repercussions later. Ready yet for another cocktail?)
Tip #3: Learn how to cook. I know, I know - cooking is boring. At least that's what you think now. There are reasons why I cook - it grounds me in the present moment, and makes me happy knowing I'm creating a healthy meal from scratch. All more than you care to fathom right now. Just know if you can grill asparagus for a date, you'll likely get your date all hot and bothered. (Just don't tell me about the hot and bothered part!)
Tip #4: Don't go to parties! Okay, I'm being paranoid. But I do know that bad things can happen when young people drink. That said, once you're in college, feel free to attend as many toga parties as humanly possible, drink as much beer as you can without destroying your GPA, learn a killer margarita recipe, and generally do as many crazy things as possible (keeping in mind the social network angle - future employers might find out!) Maybe skip parties where they expect you to be nude in chains, in a cage. (Nude yoga? Er... just don't tell me about it.) Other than that, knock yourself out!
Tip #5: If you fall in love, get married, have children, then drift apart and get divorced - know that it's not the end of the world. Divorce is hard, no doubt, and I'm not necessarily recommending that approach. But if it happens, deal with it. Dating after divorce is possible. (See tips #1, #2, and #3 above.)
I hope you find the love of your life, but more importantly - I hope you learn to give love without condition. There's no greater bliss.
Love, Dad

10 things fatherhood has taught me thus far

1. There will be drama every single day. Except for maybe the first day of school.

2. My daughter loves me unconditionally. She doesn't care about any of my flaws.

3. The money in my wallet is not mine. It’s my daughters. I’m just the walking ATM.

4. Sleep is a luxury. It is no longer a necessity or a right.

5. Parenting has made me into a blubbering fool at times. It’s OK for a superhero to cry right?

7. I learn from my daughter to be better, stronger and faster. See #2.

8. Sometimes I think my daughter secretly work for the Taliban on the weekends. See #4.

9. Braiding hair is not as easy as it looks. Really.

10. Beer is dear, but liquor is quicker. See #1.

So what have you learned thus far?

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Trading a Can of Whoop-Ass for Compassion

The other day I read a comment by a woman on a blog that touched a nerve. She essentially said that many men think with their “little heads” (yeah, those heads) and can’t distinguish between honest communication and a roll in the hay.
As Dad’s House readers may guess, it pissed me off.
Forget the polite use of “many” (I’m not sure who could make that quantification with any sanity or certainty), but a nerve was touched in me. I felt that once again, men were under attack. Just like when blogging single moms say “men suck”, “men are lazy”, “men are idiots”, “men are monsters”. It bugged me.
I responded to this new affront in typical Dad’s House style – I opened a can of whoop-ass in the form of an 800-word blog post defending men. I scheduled the post for 4am publication, then went to sleep.
Sometime in the middle of the night I awoke, feeling differently.
Maybe it was Mama Dharma’s post about feeling compassion rather than anger toward her ex, and how forgiveness flipped rage into understanding. Whatever – I realized I didn’t want to put more dis-ease into the universe. I genuinely feel sad for any women who were so negatively touched by some man, sometime in their life – whether physically, mentally, or emotionally – that they now sometimes take subtle or direct verbal jabs at men. (I’m not saying this commentor did that, though it’s possible they might have.)
I removed my angry rant of a post, went back to sleep, and woke up to a blank screen this morning. And here I write.
As one of the few men who blogs in a female-dominated corner of the blogosphere (check how many single mom vs. single dad bloggers have chosen to be listed at the Facebook Single Parents Connection Group ) – let me just say, it can be positively exhausting. You have no idea how many little slips of the tongue women make and laugh off that can be perceived as demeaning toward men. Or how many times a blogging man offers advice, only to see it ignored until a woman says the same thing. (If you don’t want a man’s perspective, why on earth do you read this blog? Or maybe you just don’t “trust” a man’s perspective…)
I understand all this goes with the territory. There are single mothers who were treated poorly by the man in their life, either when they were together, or simply because he left. And some of these single moms might still be harboring anger, resentment, disappointment, lost hopes, distrust. Believe me, I know the feeling, at least a bit. My own divorce was amicable, but I still sometimes associate painful feelings with the separation.
Perhaps the exhausting part for me in the single parent blogosphere is that I do often take offense when some single moms go off on men. We men aren’t all lazy, stupid, clueless, sex-addicted idiots (at least not all the time). We’re feeling, thinking, desiring, hoping, dreaming, emoting humans, just like you. (Except that we probably don’t process emotions as quickly and smoothly as women. But I hate to generalize.) If you’re rolling your eyes because your ex showed none of these traits, then perhaps you’re simply feeding your pain-body in a steady-state, same as I was doing. We all can choose to react differently.
Peace. Joy. Gratitude.
Now then, wouldn’t a can of whoop-ass have been so much more fun to read?

A Strong Message About Bullying

No doubt bullying is an issue today. Perhaps I led a sheltered childhood, but I don’t remember childhood bullies going to the extremes that the bullies of today do. Maybe at worst, you were shoved around, pushed down and laughed at–and then it was usually over.
Today is a different world and what is sad is that the kids are screaming out for help internally, but having difficulty getting it externally. Alye Pollack is a Connecticut 8th grader and she silently tells her three year plight. Please take a few moments to watch this:

The most striking thing for me was that she claimed she was close to cutting. How do we (as parents and as a society) allow our kids to get to this point? Most of the people who read this site have kids between 7 and 19. This is important. Please have these uncomfortable conversations with your kids!

I have a crush on my daughter’s friends mother!

Today I thought it would be fun (since it is Fun Saturday!) to talk about people in our everyday lives that we have little crushes on. For example, I think Breana’s friend mom is very cute, and I actually try to be clean shaven whenever I have to talk to her. She’s very friendly and obviously smart. But overall she’s just awfully cute.
I had already planned to write about innocent crushes in our everyday lives when I saw ABC’s “Modern Family” on Wednesday. (If you haven’t seen this show you need to watch it. It is the best new show on TV.) One of the dads on the show was having gall bladder stones (or kidney stones) and he finally agreed to let his wife call the fire department to take him to the hospital. His wife had a slight ulterior motive: apparently the entire fire department is hot and everyone in the town knows it.

As soon as their kid dials 911, the wife was off getting dressed while the husband was groaning on their bed. She comes out in tight jeans, low cut top and high heels. The dad stops his groaning to note that she’s put on lipstick and fixed her hair. And he totally knew why.

(The gay couple on the show trying to Ferberize their new adopted daughter with hilarious results is a whole other discussion for another day!)

So for Fun Saturday, who do you have a crush on in your everyday life?I have a crush on my daughter’s friends mother!

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

I Am Indeed A Violin

"She'll pull you out on the river - she's gussied up like sin,
You got jack all squat - you're a violin
And you're gonna get played until the money's all gone
Dearly beloved, the fix is on..."

- "The Fix Is On" by Peter Mulvey, from the album The Knuckleball Suite

Yes, it's true, no matter how much I try to deny it.

I am a violin.

How do I know this? My daughter is a master violinist, and doesn't really know it yet. She plays me like nobody can, I'm powerless to stop it. It's like I'm Superman (don't laugh, please) and she is like this five and a half foot tall, nineteen-year old block of kryptonite that wheedle better than God.

Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm 28years older than her, I'm stronger/faster than her. I am adult with a job and rent and I can drink beer anytime I want and drive* anywhere anytime...yet, somehow I can't resist the force of nature that is my Wee Lass.

I could say its because I just can't stand to hear whining, in any way shape or form. Especially that dentist-drill-in-the-form-of-a-kids-voice that so many of the kiddies are able to inflict on the world**. I could say its because the little kids are cute-cuddly-the-future-of-the-humna-race-blah-blah-blah...I could even say its because I am just a weenie who cannot muster the cojones to say no, just because I am the dad and I said so. And these are significant reasons why I am a violin.

But...the real reason is...I look at my daughter and she looks back at me with those impossibly beautiful eyes of hers and she smiles or does the "Happy Dance" and I say something that makes her laugh, and ohmygawd that laugh, that laugh can launch ships and cure the sick and it makes me want fall to my knees and kiss her feet because, because, because...

...she's my big pretty girl and I am dumbstruck***, in awe, totally flummoxed and grateful that I can be in her presence and know that I had something to do with bringing her into the world.

And that makes me a truly lucky man.

I believe I can fly…again

I never thought I would be a single dad at the age of 47. When I settled down in my late 20’s, I couldn’t imagine that almost 19 years later, I would be single again and “starting over.” I also never thought it would take me almost 2 years to come to grips with my new life… to snap out of it. After a little more than 2 years of sadness and stress, I finally realized that I was depressed, severely depressed. Even when I was in denial of the changes that were rapidly taking place in my life. At first it was hard to admit or even realize, that I had a problem that I just couldn’t shake. I think as a man, it was even harder to admit that I was depressed because it was very easy to hide. I needed to be that strong dad for my daughter. Yeah, I still laughed, made jokes etc, but deep down and behind the smiles, I was an insecure, crying desperate man that had no idea on how to cope with a new lifestyle. I just refused to realize that I no longer had a family. The life that I lived for 10+ years was no longer there. Even my friends and family were “over” my situation. I guess they figured that, “hey dude, it’s been 2 years, get over it.” But then again, these are my “happily married” friends that have NO IDEA about the pain I was dealing with. Part of me knew that this was the new reality, but for some reason, I couldn’t shake it. I no longer liked to the things that I enjoyed. Fishing, reading comics, playing poker… I had no interest whatsoever. Back in 2009, I went to my family doctor and told her what was going on and all she said was eat right and get more exercise. Well, I did that and my mind remained in a fog.
I tried several things to try and hide what was really going on with me and hide my depression, I went out and bought a motorcycle, labeling it as a midlife crisis. It was not a mid life crisis, it was one of my several lame attempts to fill something that was missing in my life. I also quit drinking. Even though I knew I was improving my health, quitting was like losing a friend. It sucked. Yet another wound that was slow healing. I joined a gym again and got my body back in shape. I felt better physically, but my mind still felt “off.” At that time, I didn’t even attempt to date because I knew at some point the conversation would turn to my own personal “doom and gloom.” I wasn’t ready for that.
The 2010 holidays were especially difficult. All I wanted to do was sleep. SLEEP. SLEEP. SLEEP. I’d drag myself out of bed everyday and just slump through the day. Dealing with my daughter was a challenge too. I could tell I was not that fun daddy that liked to play and joke around with my daughter. I felt so inadequate and helpless for days and months on end. My house was falling apart and even though I was working full time again, money was still a struggle. Right before Thanksgiving, some personal possessions were stolen from me. This sent me deeper and deeper into feeling hopeless and helpless. I was also started drinking a bit more that I should have been.
My claim to be a Dad Unmasked was clearly a farce. I was hiding BEHIND a mask, cowering in my own shame of being a failed boyfriend, a failure at life. I was a walking zombie. At times, I’d break down and start crying for no reason. Yes, I was a grown man, sobbing like a little girl, and I had no idea why. I knew something was really wrong so I finally sought professional help. I met with a therapist 2 times within a month and I was starting to feel a bit better about myself. I didn’t feel stressed, angry, lonely or anxious. I had those terrible feelings for so long that it felt strange that I was NOT feeling that way anymore. It’s like the weight of the world was suddenly lifted from my shoulders. I felt strong again. I felt alive again. I’m not sure want happened. Maybe my body and mind were just tired of being sick and tired. I don’t know, but whatever happened, I’m glad that it did. It’s been about 1.5 months since the “weight” has been lifted and I feel great. I feel like me again.
I’m back. There is no denying who I am anymore and I am just fine with it. I am a single dad, a geek and a wannabe superhero. AND I believe I can fly… again.

Teen Daughter – Curfew, Shmurfew

My teenage daughter has her driver’s license, her own car, her own cell phone, and her own set of friends. In other words, I’m starting to not see her much lately. She’ll take off on a weekend afternoon to hang out, or engage in Nerf-gun wars. She’ll take off on a weeknight to study with friends.
I’m suddenly having to set and enforce curfews.
She’s an adult, and she’s in college, so I’m trying to give her as much curfew freedom as possible. With freedom comes responsibility, right? And what better time to learn responsibility than when you’re living at home with a parent to guide you.
On a recent Saturday night when my daughter was out with friends, she texted me an hour before her midnight curfew: can I stay till 1?
I texted back: where r u?

She texted that they were at a friend’s house, watching the Sound of Music on DVD.
A one hour extension seemed perfectly reasonable to me, especially since she’d given me decent warning. I asked who else was there. She told me – a mix of boys and girls, and the girl’s parents were home. I said fine, be home by 1am.
At 12:30am, she texted again: can I stay till 2?
WTF? When she texted the first time, she would have known what time the movie would end. I was guessing they were moving on to some other entertainment – Wii, or cards, or Craig Ferguson on TV.
I figured this was a teaching moment. Since she wasn’t giving me any compelling reason to push her curfew to 2am, I decided she could live with her first request.
I texted back: no.
Five minutes later my phone rang. (My daughter never calls me. She only texts)
“Hi, Mr. Valadez,” a girls’ voice said. “This is your daughter’s friend Maxine.” (Name changed to protect the innocent.) “Can your daughter sleepover tonight?”
Huh? This was way beyond watching a DVD, or playing Wii. I mean, sleepovers are fun and all, and I’m fine with my daughter sleeping over at a girl’s house. But for me to be asked by my daughter’s friend? In the middle of the night? When I’d already been told there were boys?
“No,” I said. “Tell her to be home by one.”
“It’s just girls sleeping here,” the friend said.
“That’s great. One o’clock.”
Sometimes a dad has to be firm with his daughter.
Especially when he’s usually a pushover.

Losing Control

Several years into this thing, I think I am officially experiencing diabetes burnout — in the form of food rebellion, that is.  My numbers have been crap, and I am feeling disgusted with myself. Sound familiar, anyone?
Actually, it was Kelly K’s ‘food quirks’ post over at Diabetesalicousness that got me thinking, I ought to clear my conscience by airing the bold truth about what’s going on with me: I feel like I’m officially ‘losing it’ (and I don’t mean weight).
Unlike Kelly, who was diagnosed as a child and feels grateful for the freedom and flexibility that carb-counting has brought to her life, I feel enslaved by it. I noticed that gradually, over this year’s Holiday Season in particular, I’ve started throwing caution to the wind more and more often and indulging in carb-heavy foods I’ve rarely touched in the years since my diagnosis: crackers, granola, muffins, rice chips, tortilla chips, potato chips and various forms of rice. These items taste GOOD, and I missed them terribly! Do note that in my case, everything now has to be the special gluten-free variety, and having to deal with this incredibly fussy wheat allergy just makes me feel that much more entitled to eat something truly yummy now and then.
I am SO TIRED of watching people around me enjoy pancakes, cupcakes, French Fries, pasta — even something as supposedly healthful as crab cakes, which I can never order in restaurant as they are always doused in flour.  When is it my turn to enjoy yummy foods again? When I’m dead?
But on the flip side, I hate the payoff of enjoying these items: extra pounds (tighter pants) and glucose levels often well over 200. SHIT! It’s my own fault. I feel guilty and angry and unimaginably frustrated, but also somehow unable to stop myself, at least for the time being.
Add to the extra carb-punch the fact that I had a bad cold a few weeks ago, and developed an ear infection. They had me on antibiotics for 2 weeks. So you see, when diabetes things go wrong, they go wrong BIG. It’s Murphy's Law. Running really high today? Let’s take a wild-ass guess: it could be the infection, the antibiotic meds, that pack of chips you probably carb-counted wrong, or maybe even the fact that your throat’s getting sore today so there may be a cold coming on.
It’s a big fat guessing game, and I am tired of it. I suppose my current attitude is simply: Why try? I know that’s not sustainable; I’m struggling to ‘get it together’ again.  I hope y’all don’t mind my venting, but I figured it might do somebody some good out there to know that we PWDs (PEOPLE WITH DIABETES) are all riding the same roller coaster. {insert rebel yell!}

Cell Phone in the Dryer

My daughter’s cell phone went through the laundry.
There, I said it. And no, it’s not easier to say simply because it happened at her mom’s house. What happened could have happened at my place or anywhere.
You see, my daughter did the laundry, and she doesn’t normally do that chore. She dumped things in the washer one pile at a time. So she didn’t exactly check every pocket for rocks or gum or money.
Or cell phones.
At least I know she won’t be sending any dirty text messages. (Haha. Get it?)
Lesson learned, for my daughter.
My daughter should have emptied her cell phone out of her pocket before she chucked her jeans in the dirty clothes basket.

You’d think she would have noticed when her phone wasn’t near her! She’s a texting maven. Her phone chimes, rings, and buzzes off the hook, even when it’s not exactly on the hook.
To help her learn a lesson, we waited a month (!!!) before replacing the dang thing. And we charged her a pretty penny for her share of it. But replace it we did. She’s back texting again.
“Hey Dad,” she said this morning. “I’m popular!”
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“I’ve gotten 200 texts in the last 2 days!”
I don’t equate popularity with number of texts, or self esteem with texting. But she’s only eighteen. Let her have her fun, eh?
“Do you have unlimited texting?” I asked.
“Yes!” she said.
“Are you sure? Because if you don’t, you’re paying the over-run charges.”
She went silent. After paying her share of the replacement phone, I can’t blame her.
“Mom says it’s unlimited,” she said.
Huh? “Are you positive?” I asked.
“I just texted her!”
That’s my Pumpkin!

Get a Job!

When an oil change for my daughter’s car turned into major automotive repairs, it created a chance to teach our teen responsibility. You see, she doesn’t own the car; her grandparents do. So who exactly was supposed to pay for the repairs? (Subliminal message to our teen daughter: Get a job!)                                                          

My ex and I talked and came up with a plan.

First, we told our daughter that we didn’t expect her grandparents to fix thier own car and then give it to her for free. It’s not like they’re exec at AIG or anything. There’s no money tree in thier backyard. If there is, they kept it secret from me for 15 years! (Subliminal message to our teen daughter: Get a job!)

Second, we told her she didn’t have to take that car. She could find a comparably priced vehicle that she preferred. On that news, she jumped on craigslist and soon found a kick-ass Maxima at a cheap price. (Props to her for being so motivated.)

Only problem, the Maxima was in Boston. But hey – the guy selling it was in the Army and heading to Iraq, and he needed to unload it quick. He’d even pay to have it shipped here to California. My daughter was thrilled.

Um… does that sound sketchy to anyone besides my ex and me?

Who would check the car out? Why couldn’t this guy sell it to someone in Boston? Had the vehicle been in a collision? Was it considered “totaled”? If we did send a check, who would make sure the car was transported by a reputable shipping company all the way to California?

In other words, we told our daughter no to the Boston Maxima. (Subliminal message to our teen daughter: Get a job!)

Our daughter did some more checking, and realized her grandparent’s car was actually a great deal. The car is the vehicle of her dreams, but it’s functional and affordable. Props to her for doing the research, and being comfortable with her choice! That’s responsibility.

Third, while she does have money that she’s saved over the years toward a car, she doesn’t have enough to buy the car, repair it, and maintain it. Her mom and I said we’d chip in on one condition, and our message was not subliminal: our teen daughter had to get a job!

When I was seventeen, I’d already worked a full year, slinging burgers at Carl's Jr.. I couldn’t wait to make my own cash. Granted, my daughter has been a youth soccer referee since she was thirteen or so, and she refereed for gas for a while. But once her collage social life took off, she didn’t want to work weekends anymore.

Now that her teen independence is on the line by way of a car, she’s taking a new and deeper look at the whole work thing. Does she want to spend her weekends refereeing soccer, or being a cashier at Target? Or would she rather spend her remaining free time with friends? She’s thinking hard.

How long will it take for her to get a job? Who knows. At some point, she’ll decide she wants the car badly enough. Or there will be something else that costs money that will make her realize she needs to get a job.

Then again, maybe she found her grandparents’s money tree.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Teen Responsibility by the Truckload

My daughter’s car needed an oil change. Me being a helpful dad, I offered to take it in while she was at school.
Okay, it’s not really “her” car – it’s her grandparents’s. So they are happy to let her drive it. One day, they might even sell it to her at a family price. I don’t like the quickie oil change franchise stores, and instead prefer to use my regular mechanic. That was great for the car, since it has a nasty engine squeak we wanted checked out. I waited until the rain let up this week, then tossed my bike in the truck bed with the intention of cycling back home while the mechanic did his work.

Here’s where the problems started.

I turned on the engine, and the CD player was blaring! Okay, my daughter’s in collage. I’d done the same thing when I was her age. I turned the volume down, and listened to Abba as I drove.

On the way to the mechanic, I noticed the gas gauge wasn’t just low, it was on empty! Damn. I pulled into the nearest station and put ten bucks in the tank. (My daughter later told me she was trying to stretch the gas out one more week. She’d get in the car and verbalize her wish: “Come on, you gotta hold out for one more week!” Damned if that didn’t work for her.)

When I dropped off the car with the mechanic, and pulled out my bike, it started raining. Doh! No worries, I could dry off at home. But wouldn’t you know, it didn’t just rain, it poured – and only during my ride – drenching me to the bone. The rain let up as soon as I arrived at my house.

A few hours later the mechanic called. Bad news. The rear tire tread was too low for the car to be safely driven (especially in the rain), and the front tires were 1/32” away. He doesn’t sell tires – so this is like a massage therapist noticing you need a root canal. Just take care of it soon!

But wait, there’s more! That squeak? Belt tensioner needs to be replaced. Belts too.

Oh, and the front brakes are pretty much gone.

WTF!

What kind of grandparents lets thier granddaughter drive a death machine like this!? (just kidding).

No worries, all these things can be repaired. Right? Um… for $600. Not including new tires.

Okay, at this point I wondered why I suddenly have to pay to fix problems that already existed on a car I don’t own. I tell the mechanic to hold off, and I call my ex.

Turns out we can buy the car from her dad if we want. She can negotiate him down to cover some of the repairs. Blue book value is $3500. So now I’m looking at $1750 for my share, plus some portion of tires and repairs.

WTF! This was supposed to be an oil change.

My ex and I talked things over. We both didn’t want to dump that sort of money into our daughter’s car. I mean, what happened to riding your bike everywhere, getting a job at Taco Bell, saving every penny until you could afford your own wheels? Oh, that’s right. We live in California where some kids are given new Beemers when they turn sixteen.

My ex and I agree that we need to make a plan – between us, our daughter, and the grandparents. Who will pay for what. Who will own the vehicle. Who will be responsible for maintaining it going forward.

Does this sound like a chance to let our daughter learn about fiscal responsibility? Oh, yeah!

I broke the news to my daughter, and she took it in stride.
“It sucks being a responsible adult,” she said.
“Ha,” I said. “We’ve got you on responsibility training wheels. Wait until you’re out there on your own!”

Quarter tank of gas: $10
Oil change: $42
Life lesson for a teen about fiscal responsibility: Priceless

[Read the followup post: Get a Job!]

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

I’m Not Raising a Princess

A blogging single mom friend recently said that she felt bad for her daughters' self image since she was raising them in a home without a man. I understood her concern – as a single father raising a daughter, I made it a point to stay involved in my daughters life. I wanted to be the male presence as my kid grew up. It's good for girls to grow up confident in their relationships with men.
But the single mom’s reasons for wanting a dad around didn’t resonate with me. She wanted a man to dote on her girls daily, make them feel good about themselves so they’d grow into confident women.

Sorry, but I don’t dote on my daughter. It’s been a conscious decision of mine her whole life. I love having a girl in my family, and I certainly treat her well, but I’m not raising a princess. Maybe it’s because I grew up in a family of boys, I never saw what it was like for a dad to daily dote on any daughters in his home. I saw plenty of affection between my dad and mom, and they were great raising me and my brother. But dote? Ha. We cleaned the toilets and emptied the trash as much as anyone.

I know everyone is different, and people have their own parenting styles and cultural traditions. But as a dad raising a daughter I firmly believe that men who dote on their girls are not giving them confidence – they're taking that confidence away.

When a dad raises his daughter as a princess, a few things can happen. One is that she feels entitled to get anything she wants. That's not healthy. When she grows up and gets married, she’ll treat her husband poorly.

Second, she might only feel good about herself when a man is around giving her his undivided attention, and adoring her. Wouldn’t it be better if she liked herself on her own terms?

My daughter is in college right now. She’s won awards for soccer and softball. She’s a great student. She's looking forward to moving away from home, and exploring the world on her own terms. In short, she’s extremely confident, even without a lifetime of doting.

I didn’t raise a princess. And my nearly-grown daughter feels great about herself. Like a queen.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Raising Girls is Easy

I grew up in a house full of boys, so when my daughter was born, I had no idea what it would be like raising a girl. Let me say for the record - it's been easy. Far easier than raising a son.

Boys are a terror. I know this from the grief my brother and I gave to my dear mom. We broke things like crazy. Windows. Toys. Each other. (No broken bones, but plenty of stitches.) We ran around the house like wild animals, yelling and screaming. We wrestled until there were tears. We aimed slingshots and bee-bee guns at each other, sometimes even firing. (Like a Jon and Kate divorce proceeding. Ha!)

Where was brother protective services when we needed it?

My daughter has been a piece of cake. She does her homework, keeps a tidy room, never talks back. Oh sure, she could help more often around the house. But she's so sweet, and so good at keeping her nose clean, I kind of don't care. She's eighteen, and far from a loose girl, she's more focused on finishing college than getting pregnant. So there are no early-grandpa fears for me! (Watch, she has a drawer full of sex toys I don't know about. Doh!)

It's not just home life, though. Sports teams have been way easier with her. Granted, girls can be catty at times, but they'd rather get along than not. Plus, the coaches early on were usually moms, as opposed to manic Little League dads. As a result, my daughter's teams had way better parental camaraderie (i.e. parties!) I love watching my daughter do her sports.

So, next time someone tells me what a headache their daughter has been, I will knock on wood and say a little thank you that my daughter has been so easy.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Change

Everything in life is connected somehow. You may have to dig deep to find it but its there. Everything is the same even though its different. Somehow everything connects back with your life. The faces in certain places may be different, but the situation is the same. Irony is a hidden factor that creeps around us in life, letting its presence felt only after it has left. Picture back to a year ago and the situation you were in. Look at how things are different yet somehow everything it still in someway cognate. Everything connects together to form the balance of life, to maintain structure. Change is and always will be inevitable, but everything is relative, and all the moments and times in your life will come back around again, you just might find yourself on the other side of the coin. Things are always changing, as fast as everything stays the same.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]