Dad on the Outside

I had this interesting series of experiences that really made me think a lot about a man's place in the parenting universe, or at least what I think is a man's place.

Mind you, a lot, if not all, of this stems from my own neurosis and projection, and in retrospect I realized that it was all in my head, but there was some pretty serious introspection going on there.

It all stemmed from my history coming back to haunt me. You see, I have a brother, T, who is a pathological liar. I mean he lies so much that at times it gets ridiculous, though if you didn't know him, you would absolutely buy into it because he's incredibly smooth and charming, and dare I say, good looking. At times, the lies come out of his mouth so profusely, you get a sense that he simply can't help it, so the best approach is to take everything he has to say with a grain of salt. It makes interacting with him difficult, to say the least.

Anyway, some more big lies of his recently came to light, and someone close to me pointed out that with a brother, mother, and father who lie so much to cover for themselves, how can I, by virtue of our blood, have not come out of it unpolluted. I.e., how can anyone assume that I'm not lying all the time, as well?

Well, besides being floored by that assertion, it got me thinking, how can I expect anyone who knows the truth about my family to believe me? I don't have self-esteem issues, but it did make me think that my brother is not the sort of person I would ever trust with our own children, and maybe part of that is because he's a man.

Then, that same day, we had a moment we had at the playground that seemed to solidify this notion. We had trouble getting out the door on time and when we'd finally managed to get to the rec center, it was almost 4:00PM, which meant that our friends had already been out there for at least an hour. Right at the moment that our kids ran over to join the kids, and when I subsequently sat down to oversee them, the teachers called themin and said it was time to go inside. Pure coincidence, I know, but I'd just read an article that day about a dad who was refused entry into a playgroup because he was a man, and my neurotic mind kicked into full gear and wondered, why are they leaving upon our arrival. Besides, now my kids had nobody to play with.

It really got me to thinking that it can be a bit awkward having a lone man around. It can change the whole dynamic of everything, and while it's perfectly acceptable for a woman to play with kids that aren't her own, there is no denying that it can be a little weird if a man did the same, especially if he didn't have any children of his own.

I realize I'm buying into the whole sexist stereotype of dads vs. moms on the playground, but when you really get down to it, there aren't too many creeps out there that are women. I guess, in the end, I understood the teacher's POV if they had reservations about a strange man, even if he was a dad with his kids, even if he did know him on a casual basis, lingering around the school kids. For that matter, I also understood if the parents voiced some concerns. Heck, I would have, or rather, I would have found out who this guy was.

It bummed me out, however, that there might be a possibility that our kids wouldn't have a group of kids to play with on a casual, unstructured basis, which exactly what the after-school program offers. So I resolved to resolve this issue, and the next day, I did what I would normally never do if I were on my own-I went and talked to the teachers.

Of course, I had a plan to go with it. I scrambled to clean up and get dinner ready so we could get out the door before school got out, so we could arrive when the after-school kids got there, of course. I also wanted to get there early enough so that if the teachers brought the kids in when we got there, then I'd know for sure something was up, and would come forward and inquire.

Well, it turns out, as always, my anxieties were completely unfounded. I was lucky in that B and MJ were out there, my chums, and they must have thought I was crazy (they were right) because they said not only was it fine for us to play with the school kids, but they loved for parents to be out there and involved, as well. Even if he was a scary looking dad like myself.

It didn't change the fact, at least in my mind, however, that it is still a little awkward to be a man in a woman's world. I don't know if I can hang with a large group of moms. In fact, I know I couldn't, but for all it's worth, I'm not good in large groups of any sort, so it's not just with moms. However, I find myself surrounded by moms on many occasions because that's the world I live in, and I'm willing to put myself in these uncomfortable (that's putting it lightly) situations, where I'm sure I'm not always welcome, of course, because it is what's best for my kids. They want to play with other kids in assorted situations, and the reality is, those situations involve mostly moms.

Life ain't easy being a SAHD, especially a neurotic one.

Until the next time, thanks for reading.

Lightening Up

This past weekend I really suffered for being too eager, and it made me want to take a step back and lighten up. Then again, it ain't easy. It always boils down to what I perceive as looking out for everyone's best interest vs. everyone taking responsibility for their own interest. Does that make any sense? Perhaps an example might help clarify things.

We were supposed to make our way to Occom Pond this weekend for our usual Saturday excursion, and we generally get there in the late afternoon and skate until it gets dark, which is fine except that it's really cold and they take the marshmallows away by 4:30. And, we're squeezing in a trip to the library and hopefully to Coop, while my wife is at work. My reasoning is, the earlier we get there, the better, while everyone else is very laid back and won't motivate until the zero hour, and that's with us (or should I say, me?) hounding them. It boils down to my inability to lighten up, and if I weren't pushing everyone, we'd never make it out the door and get to do the things we want to do.

Now here's the problem-maybe the kids need to learn the hard way. I.e., if they don't motivate and get it together, then we can't go skiing and skating and other things. Should mom and dad be pushing them out the door to do something they love, when they should be motivated in and of themselves? Do they need to learn the consequences of the inaction? This never comes about because we enable them to have no sense of urgency by ensuring that we make it on time, but it's often like pulling teeth. What kills me is that if it came down to missing out on fun things, then we're the villains, it's our fault, but what do you expect when you're a parent?

Is it just that I need to lighten up? The truth is, there are times we'd never make it out the door if we didn't apply a little (or a lot) of pressure. On Sunday we were supposed to go skiing, and the kids were excited about it all week. Come Sunday, we were lounging around as the clock ticked away. I wanted to be there in the morning, but by late afternoon, it was looking almost as if we weren't going to pull it off. Needless to day, I was crawling up the walls, and at some point I decided that I really needed to lighten up and let the cards fall as they may.

We eventually made it to the slopes, but much later than I'd hoped. It was great day, everyone had a blast and we reached even more milestones. The kids were besides themselves and said they wanted to ski every day, and they couldn't wait until next weekend when we'd hit the slopes, but I know come Saturday, they're going to dragging their feet and if I don't push them, we're going to end up sitting around the house all day.

In the end, I guess I'll never really be able to lighten up, and I'll continue to nudge them a little to get them out the door. I'm beginning to wonder if we're suffering the negative consequence of homeschooling. Somehow, without the regular routine of being bounced out of bed and pushed out the door, kids become a bit unmotivated and soft. It makes it a challenge for everyone involved.

Until the next time, thanks for reading.