Zombie Apocalypse [Part 5]

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 Violent Crime
Part 3: Shooting as a Sport
Part 4: Protecting Myself
Part 5: Protecting My Family

Comments

Terror or Anger

Jennifer and I woke about twenty minutes ago to Patrick crying ... nothing unusual. I asked her to get him since I have to start getting ready for work in about three hours (yes, I have to work on a Saturday). Where things became unusual was the loud, sustained crash, and Patrick's cries rising to a hefty scream. Being the concerned parent that I am ... with visions of his changing table collapsed on top of him, I rushed to their aid. "What was that?" I cried. Jennifer, weakly replied, "I fell down the stairs." With Patrick screaming at the top of his lungs, I think I actually asked her to repeat what she said. I found my wife sitting, with her legs out and my son in her arms, at the bottom of the stairs. Asking if she and Patrick were OK was mixed into confused questioning about what happened. Somehow, her feet went out from under her (we suspect a couple of the leaves that Patrick likes to play with were on the steps). While my real concern was i

"Hello?"

We walked into my parents house ... looking for Papap. "Hello," we called. "'Ello," Patrick mimicked. "Hello," we called again, laughing a bit. "'Ello," Patrick mimicked again, delighted that he could get us laughing that easily. Out in the back yard, he went for the shovel (small blue plastic one I got for him a while back). "Maybe he should go shovel in the sand-box," Papap said ... Off he went to the sand-box, lugging the shovel. Later I asked him if he wanted raisins. Shaking his head no, he headed for the fridge. "Eeze," he said ... Cheese, he intended. His comprehension and vocal capacity is growing by leaps and bounds!

Happiness Is ...

Last night was a long night ... Patrick is either sick or having a reaction to something. He has a temperature, is in obvious pain, and has a good rash covering most of his body. We have opted to wait and call his doctor ... rather than a hospital run. They will not do any more than we are with medication for the pain and temperature. But, that is not what I am writing about this morning. What I want to touch on is ... Happiness. Children know something about happiness ... the younger they are the more they show a true understanding of happiness. They are often happy for no reason ... their eyes are open and Mama and Papa are there. I think, in there is something to remember ... sometimes, we need to be happy for no reason. I keep thinking about how easy it is to take the reason that someone is happy. This all came about, not because of Patrick's issues last night, but because of a few blissful minutes when I got back to the bedroom to find my wife and son asleep on t

Fatherhood

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