Tag: Parenting

19 years old, but still Daddy’s Girl…

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father-daugher 2It started about a week ago.  Rachel asked me to take her into the city.  She was nervous.  She doesn’t know her way around.  She needed to get her paperwork completed and her picture taken for her summer job.  She asked me again, 2 days later.  And then again. (Why does she keep asking me, when I’ve told her that I would do it? She doesn’t think Dad will show.  That’s it.  All those other times.  One excuse or another usually all tied to work. Couldn’t make it.  Something has come up.  I’m busy.  Mom will take you.)

Thursday night.  She asked again.  I glare at her.  She backs up.

Friday morning.  You can see she didn’t get much sleep.  She’s nervous.  She’s dressed.  OMG.  My girl is wearing a suit.  Nicely dressed.  Professional. My eyes well up.  I have to turn away.

We’re waiting for the train.  It’s early.

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Guest Post: Eric to Mom

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Mom,
 
Happy Mother’s Day! Thank you for:
 
  • Putting others before yourself
  • Killing bugs in my room for me
  • Always being so optimistic and finding something positive to say
  • Making me yummy breakfast
  • Teaching me that winning isn’t everything
  • Being so forgiving
  • Defending me until the end (mostly from Dad)
  • Caring and teaching me the importance of caring for others
    You personify that "good things come in small packages!"
I found this video and I thought you would really enjoy it. (And btw, this blog post is in lieu of a card and flowers – I thought it would be more personal than Hallmark and FTD). Smile
 
Love you,
 
Eric

 

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  6. Ratio of Criticisms to Compliments is woefully imbalanced…

Break away for 1 hour, for one of life’s delights…

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Before I left to work early this morning. I happened to flip through Steve Layman’s posts from the night before (a morning ritual).  I came across the slogan on the right which he titled “Small Pleasures Add Up.”  His post stuck with me all morning.

My daughter spent Easter weekend with us.  She was leaving today to go back to school. I had to work today.  I had the morning to reflect on her visit as my mind wandered during my meetings – – with Steve’s post lingering as a back drop.

She spent most of the weekend on her favorite couch in the living room.  Resting. Chatting.  Snacking. Texting.

We’ve all settled in like that comfortable old couch.  She’s grown up into a beautiful young woman.  Confident.  Thoughtful.  And, so full of promise.  It wasn’t lost on me that there may be few of these cherished moments left before she goes on to make her own life away from Mom and Dad.  How many Easter’s would we have left?

She’ll be done with her school year in just over a month.  She’d be back home soon.  And as I looked over at my calendar, the day was jammed with meetings after the long weekend.  I’ll just give her a call from the office and say good-bye.

NO.  Not again.  I couldn’t miss this opportunity to say goodbye.

I re-arranged my schedule.  I left work after lunch to get home.  To spend 1 hour with her before she left to catch her train.

She’s gone now.

My eyes well-up as I write this post.

And, I’m trying to think when an hour has meant more to me.

Safe journey Rachel.

Your Dad loves you.

Wednesday for Women: Who are you calling a Mama’s Boy?

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Eric (son) turns 18 in less than a week.  Eric is a Mama’s Boy.  And Mama and Son are hand-in-glove.  They are cut from a similar cloth – both peaceful – both warm and gentle – both kind hearted – both intelligent and humble.  And, they share a deep emotional bond.

Meanwhile, there’s Dad circling on the outside looking in.

Mom’s the Nurturer.  The Protector.

Dad, on the other hand, is The Beast.

It all started with absentee Dad hearing that Mama was teaching her Son the proper way to use the toilet.  (I’ll spare you the details.  I still cringe.)  That was enough.  Ever since Eric was a youngster (after the bathroom incident), Dad has been relentless – – he’s been on the “Man-Up” bus. Tirade after tirade…

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Why French Parents Are Superior. Saying ‘non’ with authority…

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“…While Americans fret over modern parenthood, the French are raising happy, well-behaved children without all the anxiety.

…I started noticing that the French families around us (at restaurants in France) didn’t look like they were sharing our mealtime agony.  Weirdly, they looked like they were on vacation.  French toddlers, were sitting contently in their high chairs, waiting for their food, or eating fish and even vegetables.  There was no shrieking or whining.  And there was no debris around their tables.

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