Monday, November 13, 2006
The more things change....Here's Grandpa (my dad) teaching Derek (my nephew) how to tie a necktie. No more whining now about how all the good things about how "it used to be" are all gone. Love is still love and family is still family, if you want them to be. And a boy still has to learn from their Grandpa.
Labels: grandpa
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Glimpsing your children as grownups
By Russell King
The point – even if it seems a long way off – of much of what we do as American dads is to help our boys and girls grow into good men and women. Sure, sometimes you intervene to prevent bloodshed or to get just one blessed moment of peace and quiet, but most of the time your parenting is designed to give them their best shot at turning out to be grownups of strong character. So it feels great when you catch a glimpse of the person you hope they will be.
Lately, Logan (13) has been providing me with more and more of those precious peeks.
He was playing baseball and up to bat. His team was behind, the bases were loaded and the pressure for Logan to get on base, thereby scoring a run, was high. First hopeful sign: Logan’s worst fear, when playing sports, is disappointing his teammates. That translates into accountability and responsibility – two things that are obviously and painfully in short supply among grownups these days. A pitch was thrown that passed so close to Logan the umpire thought it brushed his chest. The ump called “hit batsman” and sent Logan to first base. The team was thrilled, because this meant they’d score a run and tie up the game. But wait. Logan was shaking his head and talking to the umpire, explaining that the ball had, in fact, not touched him. He would not accept the unearned advantage.
The moment I understood what was happening, I leapt from my seat shouting “That’s my son!” I don’t recall whether he wound up getting on base or whether the game was won or lost, and, frankly, neither of those things matter. The kids on the team and their parents sat dumbfounded, unaccustomed – I surmise – to seeing such simple honesty. Second hopeful sign: Logan put honesty and fairness ahead of his gain, another honorable trait that’s seen too little among our fellow adults.
Fast forward to football season. Logan played on the 7th grade team and is the smallest member of the team (giving as much as a 200 pound edge to some). But he’s also the smartest player, so he put his strengths to use, studying tackling technique until he perfected it. I lost count of the number of times the guy next to me in the stands would say in astonishment, “Man! That little guy can tackle!” or “That kid never misses. He’s amazing.” Third hopeful sign: Logan figured out how to use his strengths to overcome his liabilities and achieve his goal of playing and playing well. Fourth sign: Logan fearlessly – seemingly eagerly – took on and took down players easily twice his size, sometimes getting knocked silly or windless in the process but always getting up and going back for more. Courage and strength of spirit are characteristics I hope all of my children possess when they are no longer children.
After Logan’s team suffered its first loss of the season (a crushing defeat with a lopsided score), his spirit seemed down. As I was saying goodnight to him later, I asked him how he felt about the game. “I’m mad,” he said. “I know our team can play better than that.” My heart swelled with pride. My son offered no excuses and no whining. He recognized the team’s failure and accepted the responsibility. I’ll leave it to you to sort out how many hopeful signs are in there.
Finally, a sign from a recent family vacation to Florida. When we visited a beach near Miami, there was a woman near us, sleeping in the sun, who appeared to have misplaced the top half of her bikini. Being Midwesterners, the kids were shocked at this casual public nudity. Although we don’t tend to get in a tizzy over naked body parts (Janet Jackson’s wardrobe malfunction, for instance, was no big deal), we do tend to prefer sharing of our private parts with people we love rather than strangers.
Logan was watching for my reaction to the topless sunbather. I shrugged, shook my head, and said, “We’re in a big city,” I said. “There are people here from all over the world. Some of them have different ways.”
Logan thought it over. “I think it’s sad,” he said slowly. “It’s too bad she doesn’t have more respect for herself .”
If that’s the kind of man he turns out to be, Logan’s going to make this American dad proud. Scratch that. He already has.
By Russell King
The point – even if it seems a long way off – of much of what we do as American dads is to help our boys and girls grow into good men and women. Sure, sometimes you intervene to prevent bloodshed or to get just one blessed moment of peace and quiet, but most of the time your parenting is designed to give them their best shot at turning out to be grownups of strong character. So it feels great when you catch a glimpse of the person you hope they will be.
Lately, Logan (13) has been providing me with more and more of those precious peeks.
He was playing baseball and up to bat. His team was behind, the bases were loaded and the pressure for Logan to get on base, thereby scoring a run, was high. First hopeful sign: Logan’s worst fear, when playing sports, is disappointing his teammates. That translates into accountability and responsibility – two things that are obviously and painfully in short supply among grownups these days. A pitch was thrown that passed so close to Logan the umpire thought it brushed his chest. The ump called “hit batsman” and sent Logan to first base. The team was thrilled, because this meant they’d score a run and tie up the game. But wait. Logan was shaking his head and talking to the umpire, explaining that the ball had, in fact, not touched him. He would not accept the unearned advantage.
The moment I understood what was happening, I leapt from my seat shouting “That’s my son!” I don’t recall whether he wound up getting on base or whether the game was won or lost, and, frankly, neither of those things matter. The kids on the team and their parents sat dumbfounded, unaccustomed – I surmise – to seeing such simple honesty. Second hopeful sign: Logan put honesty and fairness ahead of his gain, another honorable trait that’s seen too little among our fellow adults.
Fast forward to football season. Logan played on the 7th grade team and is the smallest member of the team (giving as much as a 200 pound edge to some). But he’s also the smartest player, so he put his strengths to use, studying tackling technique until he perfected it. I lost count of the number of times the guy next to me in the stands would say in astonishment, “Man! That little guy can tackle!” or “That kid never misses. He’s amazing.” Third hopeful sign: Logan figured out how to use his strengths to overcome his liabilities and achieve his goal of playing and playing well. Fourth sign: Logan fearlessly – seemingly eagerly – took on and took down players easily twice his size, sometimes getting knocked silly or windless in the process but always getting up and going back for more. Courage and strength of spirit are characteristics I hope all of my children possess when they are no longer children.
After Logan’s team suffered its first loss of the season (a crushing defeat with a lopsided score), his spirit seemed down. As I was saying goodnight to him later, I asked him how he felt about the game. “I’m mad,” he said. “I know our team can play better than that.” My heart swelled with pride. My son offered no excuses and no whining. He recognized the team’s failure and accepted the responsibility. I’ll leave it to you to sort out how many hopeful signs are in there.
Finally, a sign from a recent family vacation to Florida. When we visited a beach near Miami, there was a woman near us, sleeping in the sun, who appeared to have misplaced the top half of her bikini. Being Midwesterners, the kids were shocked at this casual public nudity. Although we don’t tend to get in a tizzy over naked body parts (Janet Jackson’s wardrobe malfunction, for instance, was no big deal), we do tend to prefer sharing of our private parts with people we love rather than strangers.
Logan was watching for my reaction to the topless sunbather. I shrugged, shook my head, and said, “We’re in a big city,” I said. “There are people here from all over the world. Some of them have different ways.”
Logan thought it over. “I think it’s sad,” he said slowly. “It’s too bad she doesn’t have more respect for herself .”
If that’s the kind of man he turns out to be, Logan’s going to make this American dad proud. Scratch that. He already has.
Labels: fatherhood
