Fatherhood

Teaching my son to pee ... there is one I have not spent a lot of time considering. Not until this weekend when a group of friends were discussing techniques (and only one other individual in the room even had children). What an interesting conversation. It began with a discussion of the various devices to teach a boy to urinate. Apparently, there are plastic devices that you can use to get them to have fun while aiming. Then, you have to retrieve it for the next use (really ... sounds ... not so much fun). Then, the cool suggestion came out ... cheerios! Awesome. Simple, cheap, and safe to flush ... The final suggestion is the one that stuck in my mind ... Fruit Loops. Simple, cheap, safe to flush, and "colorful!" He's already peed on his papa several times, almost from the moment he was born ... why not have some fun with it ... What more could a young boy ask for ... of to the grocery store I go. Better to be prepared for when that day gets here ... they can

Patrick had a good fall last night. He was "running" from me, as only a fifteen month old child can do, when his feet slipped out from under him. He went down quickly and the back of his head slammed into the floor. I picked him up, just after the shock of the fall wore off and the pain kicked in. He cried steady until his head cleared a bit and the tears faded as he asked for "Mama." This got me thinking about the various times he has "bonked" his head. First, I should point out that he must have a very thick skull as there has been no lasting damage. Second, I will only present a few of the more memorable spills. The first I remember actually occurred at daycare. I picked him up that day and there was an Incident Report (I think I've still got it somewhere). Patrick was learning to stand, and apparently tried to use a bookshelf to pull himself up. A simple slip later and he had a vertical egg on his forehead. They tried to apply ice ... that

Gotta' Run ... Sometimes, there is not enough time in the day to be the best father I can, let alone get my job done. Years ago, I watched a friend's child a few times. This was one of those children you watched with amusement in a restaurant ... always moving and being loud and obnoxious. She was cute, but annoying. This child had no limits and stretched my limits of sanity in only a few hours. I joked to her mother that I was going to duct-tape her daughter to the wall ... simply as a way to keep her under control. Amazingly, we did not stay in touch over time ... I really don't think it was because of this comment, just life. However, it is one more use for duct-tape ... taped to a ceiling fan still sounds like something amusing to see (someone else's child, not mine).

Last night was awesome ... Patrick was an awesome little helper. I was assembling a bookshelf that took several screws on the outer edges. He plodded into the kitchen where I was working and saw me working with a ratcheting screwdriver. He then proceeded to sit on my lap and help me screw in the screws. It was so cute that Jen turned on the video camera and got some awesome movies. Then, as I was attaching the back, he wanted to help again ... with the complexity of the processes, Jen took him downstairs to help her with the laundry. Later, as I stood the bookshelf up, he came over and helped me insert the metal dowels and put the shelves in place. And to top of the bookshelf process, he pushed on one side as I dragged it into place. We then had dinner and Patrick jumped in with his own broom as Jen cleaned the floor afterward. He even managed to sweep toward the dust pan, although not a lot of what he did made it in. Later, Jen was cleaning some spilled cereal (originally

Jen called them "cancles;" Patrick had been eating massive quantities of food and had no ankles a few weeks back. This is when we noticed something in his growth pattern that is pretty cool. Patrick's growth cycles every few weeks/months ... eating heavy, then a growth spurt. What we had not noticed until recently is that he packs on the pounds in preparation for the growth. A few weeks after his eating dies off, his growth vertically dies down and the horizontal growth begins again.

At the doctor's office, Jen found out that the uncomfortable feeling was contractions. Patrick was not quite ready to join us, but we were getting close. Jen woke me at about one in the morning to tell me that her contractions had changed. I asked how far apart they were and was told about forty minutes. What I didn't realize at the time was that she had not cleared the data out on her iPad from the previous day's contractions. She woke me again about five in the morning to let me know that the contractions were about ten minutes apart and it was time to head to the hospital. Excited and a bit fearful, I got everything together and we got on the road. Once we arrived at the hospital, we made our way to the delivery ward. Once in a temporary delivery room, the doctor arrived and we found out Jen was much further along than we expected. The nurse was surprised Jen even managed to walk into the hospital. They quickly moved Jen into a regular delivery room where thing

I have not always been a dare-devil over the years, but I definitely have had my moments. Working with the Army, I got to blow things up. I got to work with tons of heavy equipment. I've sky dived numerous times ... These events, while fun have been sporadic and spread out over the years. Now that I am a father, most of my dare-devil moments are much more considered. He needs me around for a long time. Being in control is definitely comforting for me as a father to Patrick, but I am coming to realize that doing my best to be in control is doing it in such a way that he feels the influence of the control, even when I am not there.

Patrick's morning routine has evolved quickly ... as he, himself grows like a weed. The first few months were amazing; he loved to get up with us and explore a brand new world. His beginning of each new day has not become any less enthusiastic, just a bit more complicated. I generally get up before Jen and most mornings he's been asleep as well as I left for work. A few days ago, he's added a new dimension that Jen has confessed to loving. What has occurred is that Patrick has started waking just as I finish getting dressed, before I am completely ready to go. I generally allocate extra time to coast just before I leave. With him waking, I've gotten him from his crib ... generally crying gently (him, not me). The first time he did this I placed him sitting on the bed, unable to get his tears to stop. I decided to lay down to rest until Jen could take him. He stopped crying as my head hit the pillow. He gave me a curious look and moved to lay down facing me. A

As a father, I need to teach my son that an investment in goodness will never fail him in life. I have learned to invest in the goodness of my wife, my children, and our extended family and friends. The once colorful connotation of the word "good" has been bleached out in a culture where we divide shades of gray and define things absolutely. Good in today's terminology is a good spot in line at the grocery store, behind better and best. The good computer only takes a few minutes to load and we might have to wait thirty seconds to access the Internet ... no smartphone in this category. I always remember Gods assessments of the world he made, "And God saw that it was good." This statement was made over and over again as he stopped to ponder his glorious creation. And finally, he stated, "Then God saw everything that He had made, and indeed it was very good." God's own creations are good ... very good, and that is enough for me. An investmen

Unable to speak yet, Patrick defines what he wants in various ways: pointing, grunting, grabbing, yelling, screaming, and recently dropping to the floor and crying or standing in front of me and bouncing with a smile on his face. Most of these behaviors are pretty clear and easy to manage. Often, he gets to play with what he wants or where he wants, barring any unsafe behavior ... on the stove top whether food is cooking or not, under the sink where we store chemicals, near the top of the stairs (unsupervised) ... you get the idea. We love that he has a variety of interests and wants to explore. It's pretty cool to watch him taking all the pots and pans from under the counter and trying to carry them to the front door ... he eventually gets tired using both arms to hold the weight and drags the pot or pan behind him ... very cool! The first few tantrums were kind of scary ... dropping to the floor, face down, and then tears that then raged into something much scarier. Rec

I always kind of chuckled when parents started bringing out the pictures of their kids. Yes, they are cute (those of you that have shown me photographs over the years, I did enjoy seeing them) ... but, the depth of their excitement was, at the time, beyond me. Now, I find myself loading pictures of Patrick on my computer, home and at work, and on my phone. I don't hesitate to trot them out ... showing off cutest and most amazing "little dude" I know (does that make me a "big dude?")! I am quickly learning that there was something to all those "proud parents" ... that being politely excited as a non-parent was not as impressive as I thought ... To all those parents that trotted out their pictures, you have my sincere apologies (I did enjoy them). To all those non-parents I hope to torture with pictures of an amazing child ... I plan to enjoy every moment and hope you one day understand what I mean here.

Carrying (CCW) as a Father Part 5:   Protecting My Family The final article I am writing in this series circles back to where I started. Jen and I decided that we need to be able to protect our family. When it was just the two of us, we had a lot more latitude in what we could do and when. Now that Patrick is in the mix, to be the best father I can (and hence, the best parents we can) I must be able to protect my family. With my wife's blessing, I got my Carry License and plan to carry when it is appropriate and warranted. I also plan to ensure that she is well trained and has plenty of practice with each of the weapons that we bring into the home. This includes safety ... with a small son in the mix, the weapons need to always be secured properly. Shooting is a sport I enjoy and will continue through my life and will strive to ensure both my wife and son have a healthy respect for the sport and the weapons it involves. Part 1:   Where it Started Part 2:   Rise in

Carrying (CCW) as a Father Part 4:   Protecting Myself Having served in the US Army and then worked for almost a decade in the Department of Corrections (as a staff member, not an inmate), I have learned that to protect others, I have to first be able to protect myself. I have also seen both the good and the bad in people. For those that do not believe in a Creator (Good and Evil) ... these are the places where you learn that He does exist and is very active in our lives. I've seen small miracles every day ... God, acting in my life. I have also learned that He has a plan for us. God gives us what we need, not necessarily what we want. This does not mean that we do not strive to become the best person we can ... we absolutely must to fulfill His will for each of us. To do this, I must be prepared to defend myself against those that cannot see the simple glory around them. In protecting myself, planning properly to avoid conflict is an important first step ... but being

Carrying (CCW) as a Father Part 3:   Shooting as a Sport I've always loved to shoot.  The military taught me to do it correctly and safely ... they also gave me a bit of a competitive edge to what I do on the range. Shooting is a sport of skill: The skills learned are valuable in other aspects of life. Learning to be safe with a gun or rifle teaches responsibility. Learning to hit a target teaches both self-discipline and self-control. Learning to hold a weapon steady and hit the target teaches concentration. Self-reliance and individual esteem are strengthened because of the individuality in the sport. No one has to sit on the sidelines and watch; everyone can take part. This active involvement is important, because sports are fun when everyone can participate personally instead of watching others. Persons with physical disabilities also can take part in shooting, often right alongside other shooters. Shooting is a safe sport:Injuries are extremely rare in target shoot

Carrying (CCW) as a Father Part 2:   Rise in Violent Crime Just as driving home with Patrick and Jen in the car for the first time made me acutely aware of the vehicles around me, I have also become acutely aware of the volume of crime around us. Having been a survivor in several crimes over the years, my awareness of what could potentially go wrong is probably a bit more heightened than most. I had a driver attempt to run me off the road then follow me to work ... following me to work was not such a huge deal since I was going to report the incident as soon as I got there (and I worked in a prison and knew that several of my co-workers would be in the parking lot). What got me was when the Police Office came to take the report and asked if the other driver was armed ... working in a prison, we dealt with weapons, but not generally firearms. I was shaken up for a few days after this incident. While working at the same place, I rented a cheap apartment (being single, this see

Carrying (CCW) as a Father Part 1: Where it Started Growing up, I think I shot a weapon twice ... rifles, definitely no handguns or shotguns.  I remember shooting a black powder kit rifle that my father built that almost took my shoulder off.  My father also had a .22 that we used to kill a few ears of corn. I did get a much stronger exposure to a variety of weapons while serving in the US Army. Over the years, I expanded on the basic skills I developed ... even to the point of competing now and then.  But, as with most things in life, I drifted away from shooting.  I've always seen "range time" as something of a group activity, so the idea of heading out to the range by myself seemed odd.  The fact that I wasn't shooting was certainly not a lack of interest ... more that I just let life get in the way. About six months before Patrick was born, I asked Jen what she wanted for Christmas.  And, even though we had talked about her learning to shoot in the past

Patrick at the Wheel Patrick loves to be in the driver's seat ... any car. It started when I was driving and Jen was in the back seat. When we stopped, he reached forward, as if he wanted me to pick him up. Jen passed him to me over the center console and he immediately grabbed onto the steering wheel. He yanked left and right, putting his whole body into it as he stood on my lap. Jen and I laughed ... deep and hearty at his obvious excitement. He reached over the wheel and turned on the left and right turn signals, followed by the high beams on and off. Next, he learned how to turn the lights on and off, and eventually he made his way to the right side of the wheel and found the radio and air conditioning controls. Jen eventually made her way out of the car and stepped in front of the car so he could see her ... with him waving to his mother in childish glee, so proud of his accomplishments. Since then, we've gotten to "drive" the car on the driveway ...

What I am learning is that being a father is all about balance ... about balancing time and priorities so that my family always  comes first. It is about keeping the priorities and time of the other things in my life (both personal and work) at appropriate levels. I heard this term while in high school: they were developing "well-rounded" students, prepared for several futures. What I am learning now is that there needs to be a well-rounded family experience with components of work, service, values, and ... fun. I have to Plan Instead of trying to work through what each day presents (as I am doing now), I needs to create a fathering plan that allows me to focus on the important aspects of my life. This planning must involve an examination of my values, setting meaningful family goals, and then acting on the goals ... creating a family calendar. I have to Teach I do understand, having worked as a teacher/trainer for as many years as I have that one of my most importa

Food, food, and more food ... in Patrick's early days, this was a solid motivator.  He motivated us to feed him very effectively those first few months. Then, he learned that certain actions got a certain response from his father ... and, repeating these actions got more response.  I would make faces at the dinner table and his laughter and clapping would encourage more interaction. Later, as he developed he learned the value of certain actions got positive verbal response and clapping ... and, again he learned to repeat these actions. These learned responses are the beginning of a pattern I can see where we have to be aware at all times of what is motivating him.  Is it food, toys, activities?  These will change and evolve over time ... eventually, the goal is for him to develop his own internal motivation to do the "right thing" simply because it is the right thing to do. This moving target of motivation is a learning curve for me as a father and one in which

... to be Fathers? My parents say that Patrick has us very well trained ... and he well might. He lifts his arms and we lift him up.  He points and we carry him in the direction he wants to go.  He throws something, we give it back for him to throw again. Parents that know us roll their eyes (some unspoken knowledge, I expect). I suspect they are laughing with us ... As we teach him how to live life ... to love God, respect his family, and to be a productive member of society ... he is teaching us about life, as well.  What those lessons are, I'm not one hundred percent sure, but I am certain they will be valuable to me in my future endeavors.

My spell-check is highlighting the word "texting" ... not in the computer's dictionary.  In 21st century lexicon, texting is both a noun and an adjective ... both an object and a description of an activity. To me ... a computer squid, it seems odd, but texting is something I've simply learned to live with.  I have always preferred talking to someone rather than sending a text or speaking with a machine.  I know computers, but have little interest in living large parts of my life on them ... there needs to be, as with anything, a balance. Over the years, I've developed a philosophy in relation to communications (outside of work).  I've always kept my phone separate from my e-mail separate from my iPOD/iPAD with my calendar.  Only recently have I even spent the money on a texting plan (kind of got battered into that one).  I have always explained the philosophy, in part, as keeping the devices separate based on the type of use as a means of maintaining bat

The excitement of a cardboard tube: paper towel or toilet paper doesn't matter to a small child. I remember Patrick finding his first tube, after taking all the toilet paper off the role. This was not unlike taking all the Kleenex out of the box (although, the Kleenex go back in so much easier than toilet paper onto the role. This morning, Patrick got to be an elephant. He had an empty paper towel role that his Papap gave him ... clamped in his teeth, "Oooohaaaahhhooooh ..." What an amazingly beautiful sight and sound; my son at play. I'm sure the games are just beginning: telescopes, swords, creatures of the night ... the limitless options for a creative mind and a cardboard tube will give Patrick endless days of fun.

Are we as good fathers in danger? I am not initiating a discussion here about good or bad fathers, but about fathers that simply forget to be good husbands first (which in my mind is a distinct and important part of being a good father).  Our culture has recently begun to push the value of being a good father; which is should be ... definitely, not a bad thing.  But, somewhere in the mix, being a good husband at the same time has gotten lost. Susan Gregory Thomas' article Are Dads the New Moms? in The Wall Street Journal  offered the following interesting finding: Even as men have made great strides as fathers, however, they can find themselves rudderless as spouses. "We're getting a new cultural script for a 'new dad' but not for a 'new husband,' " says W. Bradford Wilcox, director of the University of Virginia's National Marriage Project. "That married people with children now often refer to themselves as a 'stay-at-home m

Black and white films are cool ... but, what I am writing about is color (and not movies). Crayons, Markers ... now things like Pip Squeaks and Markers that only write on paper. They also have paint for covering crayon, as well as paint that can be used as a writing surface by an energetic child. Face-painting and body art ... I've been impressed with the talent that Patrick shows when applying these colors to his face, arms, hands, legs, feet, in his hair, and occasionally even to his tongue. I love to see his artistic ability shining through. Recently, we've had an orange palm, a series of purple markings on his face, and even blue marks on Mama's shirt (thankfully we used washable markers). Patrick loves crayons ... sometimes for chewing, mostly for writing. He already mimics the holding techniques he sees others using and he rarely tried to write on anything but the paper.

Not LOUD sounds ... this article is about the gentle sounds of an infant or toddler. Before Patrick was born, I got to hear his heart beat for the first time at the doctor's office ... it stunned me. Here was a new life that Jen and I had created, developing right before us. Then, after he was born we hear a new sound while he was feeding. It can only be described as a coo of contentment. That soft gentle sound was a happy loving noise. As he developed, he started to make noises ... nothing coherent, but we all heard the Mama, Papap, Grandma, and Papas in the noises he was offering. Recently, he has been trying to mimic our noises: a rough "grrr" in his throat as we make engine sounds, "boo" when asked to say thank you. Tonight, he had us in stitches as he realized he could put his lips on his mother's arm and blow ... the constant (over several minutes) "brrappp" had us almost in tears we were laughing so hard. Of course, I had to

Patrick had a rough week while we were on vacation. His allergies kicked in while we were out of town. Lots of coughing and medication later, we got home ... noticing a mild rash that may have stemmed from a new tooth coming in (yes, those two factors do seem to go together somehow). Now, he has picked up something else that is causing diarrhea (think changing the diaper every fifteen to thirty minutes) which has irritated the rash ... taking things to a whole new level. I got called by Patrick's day-care part way through my work day; severe rash and five diaper changes that were getting progressively more painful due to the consistency ... thankfully, I am a good trainer and my students were working through the launch of the software extremely well. I called Jen and left ... I had to stop by and swap vehicles since she had two things in her vehicle that I didn't in mine: the car seat and air conditioning (necessity with a sick child and consistently 90+ temperatures).

God blessed this Country, and through our commitment to him our Country will never fail. I have not had the chance to take my son to a Fourth of July Parade yet ... and at fourteen months, most likely he is not going to remember much. I am a strong patriot ... proud of my Country and it's history. Patrick needs to learn about the history that makes our Country great as well as the patriotism and respect is engenders. What can I do as a father to teach these lessons? I need to teach some lessons to him ... and others, I will teach him by the example I provide.  Here are just a few things I have been thinking about over the last few weeks that I need to remember over the next few years. Patriotic Events: This is not just Fourth of July events, but local and state events. Patrick needs to see the pride I have in my Country and all aspects of what make this Country great. Having been involved with the US Army, and in particular with Recruiting Command, I have a great respe

Patrick's favorite foods ... pizza and french fries. The sign for "more" ... regularly used and one of the clearest words he knows.  It's become "more food" as time goes on. Tonight, he got both in one meal ... courtesy of a great local restaurant! What I found hilarious was seeing the beard of pizza sauce and ketchup on his face. He eats everything with gusto ... picking small bits if we let him and chomping freely when we prompt him. While he's hungry and eating, it is a very focused event. He gets the food in his hand, on the spoon, or stabbed with the fork and then, into his mouth (generally, covering some portion of his face to get there). When he's just somewhat hungry, the games begin ... sometimes, clearing the table with food to the left and right, winging it's way across the room. Other times, he wants to spoon from the container himself ... a trial by error, if I ever saw one. And, when he's done, the real games begin.

I believe we place too much reality into kid's dreams today. Is it just the fathers? If Patrick tells me that he wants to be Po the Panda when he grows up, my first thought would be to tell him, "You can't be Po the Panda, but you can be the artist or writer that brings Po the Panda to life." As fathers, where does this get us? Do we push a bunch of kids to grow up wanting to be lawyers, doctors, and engineers. We need these people in the world, and there is nothing wrong with solid careers for our children. But, who's going to protect the vast reaches of space from aliens or pirates? Who is going to travel through time to finally answer the question, "Which came first the chicken or the egg?" I hope it's a long time before I tell Patrick the real story behind his dreams ... just to be helpful. I need to learn when to be helpful ... reality will step in soon enough. Besides, it would be nice to have a member of the family who can trave

Patrick's first day of daycare showed me how truly terrifying being a parent can be. Jennifer and I made arrangements at work so we could both be there as he was dropped off. We walked him in and handed him over, along with several months worth of clothing and food. He was in tears (yes, afraid of being abandoned at several months old), his mother was in tears (afraid he would hate her ... logically knowing he cried because he loved her), and I was fighting to keep the tears at bay (being the good, strong husband ... man, was that painful). We got as far as the car before Jen's waterworks started up again. I held her ... for what seemed like hours, letting her take strength from me. All the time, I was hiding the weak feeling in my knees. Eventually, we got to work. Then, the phone call ... it was Jen, picking him up. Another phone call ... they survived the five minute car ride home (first time without me). Another call ... he was happy and feeding. Finally, my wor