Today is Father's Day. My Father continues to live out his vocation with each of his children. Dad still jokes on the phone. He still listens to our troubles. He still occasionally for no reason, sends a note and usually a few bills or a check with the closing, "Love and prayers, Daddy." He still offers me books I have no capacity to comprehend but which I keep hoping one day to understand and he still prays for each and every one of us daily.
Fathers get a bad rap these days as being unnecessary by modern thinkers. But I'm betting those modern thinkers ache in their hearts to have those moments Dads, real dads are famous for: grilling food in the winter, organizing football games even when none of the kids are in the mood and marshalling everyone outside for what turns into a weekly event and quiet points with walks in the woods or fishing. Fathers are those guys that teach their children knock knock jokes and then spend the next twenty minutes listening to their offspring butcher the delivery, invent new punch lines and still, they really laugh.
I can't imagine trying to fill the space my husband would leave behind if he weren't present in my children's lives. He stays up past 12 playing games with the three that love cards. He signs our middle daughter up for softball and goes to every weekend game just for her. He makes the brothers and sisters bring their instruments to basketball games and play during time outs and drives us to civil war battle fields and gives the historical accounts with fuller detail than the museum. Listening to their father sing at mass is one of my favorite moments once a week. It models for every one of them, how much they should participate and lo, the boys who were muttering along are now singing.
When things are squabbly, he lays down the law with lines like, "Peace through work." and the subsequent assignment of cleaning out the garage, trimming the hedges and pulling weeds or folding clothes. He invented the wolf council --where the kids howl and assemble and allowances are given and family announcements are made and the laundry system which would work if anyone followed it. And he prays for each of his children and for me every day. It takes a decade to get to us all.
So happy Father's day to my love, to the father of all my children and to my Father, who helped shape the person I became and model the type of man I should seek and to my Father-in-law, who shaped the man I fell in love with, with his love of history, dedication to his family and willingness to play summers full of whiffle ball and cards with his sons. I am blessed by all of you. Love, Sherry
Showing posts with label dads. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dads. Show all posts
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Friday, July 17, 2009
The Game Show
And now it’s time for every parents’ favorite game show “Do You Hear What I Hear?”
“Hello again and welcome back for another exciting round. Today’s contestants are Veteran Mom, New Dad and Grandmother. Welcome to you all. Now you all know the rules so let’s get down to identifying these sounds. The first one is up for grabs.”
“Slunk. Slunk. Bunk a bunk a bunk pttttttttttah. “
Buzz!
“Yes! New Dad?”
“That would be a football falling down the stairs Bob?”
“No, I’m sorry that is incorrect. Grandmother? Veteran Mom?”
Buzz!
“Is it the sound of a Halloween Pumpkin Candy Holder falling down the stairs?”
“Ooh. Very close. Very close. Contestant Veteran Mom, do you have any idea?”
Buzz!
“Yes?”
“Yes Bob, it is a Halloween Pumpkin Candy Holder, but it was kicked, it didn’t fall.”
“That is correct! Veteran Mom, take fifty points. For a bonus point, identify Why it was kicked.”
“His sister ate all the reese's pieces and left only the lime flavored tootsie rolls and candy corn.”
“Correct!”
“Excellent work. Excellent. We’ll start the next round worth one hundred points. Okay, contestants will have thirty seconds to identify this sound.”
“ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! Huhhhhhhh! ZZZZZZZZZ! Huhhhhhh! ZZZZZZZZZZZZ!”
“Buzz.”
“Buzz. “ “Buzz.”
“New Dad was first on the buzzer. What was that sound?”
“Bob, it was Snoring. It wasn’t me because I don’t snore, but it was snoring.”
“Sorry, that was not the correct answer, we move on to Grandmother. “
“Snoring and the baby was crying Bob.”
“I’m sorry, we have to turn to Veteran Mom.”
“Snoring and the baby crying and the Toddler just climbed out of bed and is staggering around the house looking for his stuffed lion and a sippy cup of water.”
“That is 100% correct! I see we now move to the speed round where we will play a sound. Your job is to identify the situation and whether it requires a run or no run parenting response. Remember, you must indicate the severity of the situation if there is any.”
“Slishhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Drip. Drip. Drip. Slisshhhhhhhhhhh. Drip. Drip. Drip.”
“Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.”
“Okay, we have a three way tie between the Veteran Mom, the New Dad and the Grandmother so I’ll have to ask each of you to write your responses, along with run or don’t run.”
“Okay, Grandmother, what was your response?”
“It’s a sink Bob, a child was brushing his teeth and turned off the sink when another child came in and did the same. No run.”
“Ooh. No. I’m sorry, that’s incorrect. New Dad, what was your answer, did you correctly identify the mystery sound and run/no run response?”
“That’s the ice machine in the kitchen, being used to pour drinks for the neighborhood by a five year old and a three year old. Run.”
“I’ll have to check with the judges to determine if they’re willing to give partial credit but in the meantime, let’s check with our final contestant.Veteran Mom?”
“Yes, Bob, that is the sound of a toddler getting a drink out of the toilet. Run and scream at the same time.”
“That is correct and congratulations to our winner Veteran Mom! She gets to move on to the bonus round, while we say good bye to Grandmother and New Dad, thank you both for playing.”
“Now Veteran Mom, you know how this game is played, we give you a sound and you identify the danger level and its origin. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Here is your mystery sound.”
………thirty seconds of silence pass.
“Bob, it is a code red emergency, there are three children upstairs trying to create a bridge out of a sleeping bag, two chairs and a toy box and the youngest has a hammer she is preparing to tap on the window. If an adult does not intervene in the next four seconds, someone will be hurt and something will be broken.“
“Congratulations, Mom is our grand champion!“ Balloons cascade onto the stage and credits begin to roll. A voice over is heard, “There are no prizes awarded in “Do You Hear What I Hear?” other than the peace of mind that comes from knowing what your children are up to all the time and being able to put a stop to it.”
Bob turns to the camera. “Tune in next time when contestants will be asked to speed round mate all white socks and assemble lunches with no white bread available.”
“Hello again and welcome back for another exciting round. Today’s contestants are Veteran Mom, New Dad and Grandmother. Welcome to you all. Now you all know the rules so let’s get down to identifying these sounds. The first one is up for grabs.”
“Slunk. Slunk. Bunk a bunk a bunk pttttttttttah. “
Buzz!
“Yes! New Dad?”
“That would be a football falling down the stairs Bob?”
“No, I’m sorry that is incorrect. Grandmother? Veteran Mom?”
Buzz!
“Is it the sound of a Halloween Pumpkin Candy Holder falling down the stairs?”
“Ooh. Very close. Very close. Contestant Veteran Mom, do you have any idea?”
Buzz!
“Yes?”
“Yes Bob, it is a Halloween Pumpkin Candy Holder, but it was kicked, it didn’t fall.”
“That is correct! Veteran Mom, take fifty points. For a bonus point, identify Why it was kicked.”
“His sister ate all the reese's pieces and left only the lime flavored tootsie rolls and candy corn.”
“Correct!”
“Excellent work. Excellent. We’ll start the next round worth one hundred points. Okay, contestants will have thirty seconds to identify this sound.”
“ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! Huhhhhhhh! ZZZZZZZZZ! Huhhhhhh! ZZZZZZZZZZZZ!”
“Buzz.”
“Buzz. “ “Buzz.”
“New Dad was first on the buzzer. What was that sound?”
“Bob, it was Snoring. It wasn’t me because I don’t snore, but it was snoring.”
“Sorry, that was not the correct answer, we move on to Grandmother. “
“Snoring and the baby was crying Bob.”
“I’m sorry, we have to turn to Veteran Mom.”
“Snoring and the baby crying and the Toddler just climbed out of bed and is staggering around the house looking for his stuffed lion and a sippy cup of water.”
“That is 100% correct! I see we now move to the speed round where we will play a sound. Your job is to identify the situation and whether it requires a run or no run parenting response. Remember, you must indicate the severity of the situation if there is any.”
“Slishhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Drip. Drip. Drip. Slisshhhhhhhhhhh. Drip. Drip. Drip.”
“Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.”
“Okay, we have a three way tie between the Veteran Mom, the New Dad and the Grandmother so I’ll have to ask each of you to write your responses, along with run or don’t run.”
“Okay, Grandmother, what was your response?”
“It’s a sink Bob, a child was brushing his teeth and turned off the sink when another child came in and did the same. No run.”
“Ooh. No. I’m sorry, that’s incorrect. New Dad, what was your answer, did you correctly identify the mystery sound and run/no run response?”
“That’s the ice machine in the kitchen, being used to pour drinks for the neighborhood by a five year old and a three year old. Run.”
“I’ll have to check with the judges to determine if they’re willing to give partial credit but in the meantime, let’s check with our final contestant.Veteran Mom?”
“Yes, Bob, that is the sound of a toddler getting a drink out of the toilet. Run and scream at the same time.”
“That is correct and congratulations to our winner Veteran Mom! She gets to move on to the bonus round, while we say good bye to Grandmother and New Dad, thank you both for playing.”
“Now Veteran Mom, you know how this game is played, we give you a sound and you identify the danger level and its origin. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Here is your mystery sound.”
………thirty seconds of silence pass.
“Bob, it is a code red emergency, there are three children upstairs trying to create a bridge out of a sleeping bag, two chairs and a toy box and the youngest has a hammer she is preparing to tap on the window. If an adult does not intervene in the next four seconds, someone will be hurt and something will be broken.“
“Congratulations, Mom is our grand champion!“ Balloons cascade onto the stage and credits begin to roll. A voice over is heard, “There are no prizes awarded in “Do You Hear What I Hear?” other than the peace of mind that comes from knowing what your children are up to all the time and being able to put a stop to it.”
Bob turns to the camera. “Tune in next time when contestants will be asked to speed round mate all white socks and assemble lunches with no white bread available.”
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Happy Father's Day
You'ld think being a writer, I'd be able to bang out 700 words in a heartbeat on Fatherhood, on the meaning of Dadness, and what having a husband who is a great Dad, and a father, whom I cherish, and a father in law who is loving, means. I also have a brother and brother in law, who awe me with their dedication to their children. I know we're all supposed to be that loving with our sons and daughters, it's still moving to see it in action. And I know countless families, where the fathers are so present, it's beautiful. They are the father's of my children's friends. And then there are the priests and teachers, who act in lieu of Mom and Dad when our kids are at school or mass, who present again, the image of what we are all supposed to be, thoughful, attentive and giving, loving and responsible. None of these people are perfect, but they through their example, provide glimpses of what God wants of all of us.
But it's hard.
To capture the essence of what these men mean and avoid sentimentality in the process, you're supposed to pin it down on specifics in writing. For example, instead of, he ate a poor lunch; He ate cold tomato soup from a can with buttered burnt toast.
So here goes: To my father, thanks for always loving us, even when we drove you nuts. Thanks for taking us sailing and fishing and buying us ice cream after we'd fought all the way to the store anyway. Thanks for reading me Watership Down and getting mad when I'd forged a signature on an F or gone cruising down Dowlen Road after you and Mom said I shouldn't. Thanks for all the long hugs when we greet at the airport for one of your visits or one of mine, and for the puns that pop up like mushrooms in our conversations. You're beautiful. You always make me smile.
To my husband, who pushes me to learn history and pay attention to politics, who keeps me from spending too much time in front of the computer writing by calling up to sing Surfer Girl and request that I water his plants and fix the fish filter, or brings home an unexpected book or game and helps devise systems to make the workload of all these children less taxing, thank you. Watching you take our son out to the garden when he's having trouble with his temper is a beautiful thing. Listening to you teach your daughters about past presidents and being on the sideline as you cheer your daughter on in softball, these are gorgeous moments for me as your wife. You love your daughters and your sons beyond well, and that makes you all the more wonderful to me.
My father in law has shown up quietly with great generosity at various moments in our lives and I am grateful for all of his help and assistance, even if I'm sometimes more than a bit stubborn in the moment. I can see how my husband became the man he is, by how his father acts and speaks, and I love his sense of humor.
So to all men out there who are fathers, who are in the trenches fathers, who tie shoes and coach teams, who sing for their children's first communion and bag groceries at the pantry program, who are present in their children's lives in a real brick and mortar kind of way, Thank You! Happy Father's Day!
May this year give you more presents than the perenial tie, painted rock, steaks in a box and gift certificate to home depot, may this year be the one where your children begin to recognize, How Great a Gift they have in You.
I'll return to humor on Tuesday, and discuss how my daugher who is two considers gargling to be a legitimate form of self expression in conversation. We're still working on finding out what it means.
But it's hard.
To capture the essence of what these men mean and avoid sentimentality in the process, you're supposed to pin it down on specifics in writing. For example, instead of, he ate a poor lunch; He ate cold tomato soup from a can with buttered burnt toast.
So here goes: To my father, thanks for always loving us, even when we drove you nuts. Thanks for taking us sailing and fishing and buying us ice cream after we'd fought all the way to the store anyway. Thanks for reading me Watership Down and getting mad when I'd forged a signature on an F or gone cruising down Dowlen Road after you and Mom said I shouldn't. Thanks for all the long hugs when we greet at the airport for one of your visits or one of mine, and for the puns that pop up like mushrooms in our conversations. You're beautiful. You always make me smile.
To my husband, who pushes me to learn history and pay attention to politics, who keeps me from spending too much time in front of the computer writing by calling up to sing Surfer Girl and request that I water his plants and fix the fish filter, or brings home an unexpected book or game and helps devise systems to make the workload of all these children less taxing, thank you. Watching you take our son out to the garden when he's having trouble with his temper is a beautiful thing. Listening to you teach your daughters about past presidents and being on the sideline as you cheer your daughter on in softball, these are gorgeous moments for me as your wife. You love your daughters and your sons beyond well, and that makes you all the more wonderful to me.
My father in law has shown up quietly with great generosity at various moments in our lives and I am grateful for all of his help and assistance, even if I'm sometimes more than a bit stubborn in the moment. I can see how my husband became the man he is, by how his father acts and speaks, and I love his sense of humor.
So to all men out there who are fathers, who are in the trenches fathers, who tie shoes and coach teams, who sing for their children's first communion and bag groceries at the pantry program, who are present in their children's lives in a real brick and mortar kind of way, Thank You! Happy Father's Day!
May this year give you more presents than the perenial tie, painted rock, steaks in a box and gift certificate to home depot, may this year be the one where your children begin to recognize, How Great a Gift they have in You.
I'll return to humor on Tuesday, and discuss how my daugher who is two considers gargling to be a legitimate form of self expression in conversation. We're still working on finding out what it means.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Olympus as you never knew it...
When we only had two, of course we spent a lot of time inventing nick names for our young prodigy. They were wonderful, these two, Apollo and Athena. Why Greek gods? We thought them that promising and enjoyed the compare and contrast of their temperaments that such names allowed. And besides, we were comic book collecting, RPG playing, LOTR loving star trek watching geeks –this is what geeks do.
Apollo, god of music and light and reason, of course fit our gentle son’s personality. He was not a fighter, at least not with his fists.
Athena, pensive, tempermental and seemingly low maintenance until displeased, helped us to create our favorite phrase for describing her, like a goddess, easily amused, but also like a goddess, more easily perturbed. She also had her father’s heart wrapped around his finger.
Then Artemis showed up, and a cloud shadowed Athena’s face for a time. I have to share Dad? This is so wrong. While Apollo shined on…benevolently looking after his two sisters and indulging their daily competitions with each other –you know…girls. Artemis was also inscrutable, she'd be sweet and easy going one minute, and shut down another. She loved Athena but also loved driving her nuts by squirreling away time with Zeus. How come I never get fought over? Apollo remained unbothered by this sisterly rivalry. He’d roll his eyes with the smug knowledge of understanding that only a five year old could muster.
Then Hermes showed up. From the get go, he lived up to his Greek namesake, driving his older brother quite mad. He disassembled Lego models that had stood for years, made deals with his brother to not touch magic card decks in return for additional allowance, (yes a two year old can run an extortion racket, or at least this one did). He ran around the house at lightning speed, screaming to the point of inducing panic, causing his mother to ponder whether he was in fact the god of Nature rather than the swift footed glib brother of Apollo.
Alas, such were the golden days of Olympus
Hermes’ next sister showed up and he didn’t forgive us until a brother showed up two years later. Apollo actually thought this was great and regularly pointed out that “the replacement baby” had shown up because Hermes was so uncooperative. Zeus and I had to intervene. With her endless love of all things sparkly, pink, girlish and pretty, no one had any doubt who this blonde blue eyed goddess was. She got a glimpse of the ocean at the tender age of 1. The money quote sealed her as having been born of the water. “Mine.” Arms outstretched in a sign of hugging the whole Atlantic. Aphrodite claimed her title.
The next son, we struggled to name to continue the template. We hadn’t thought this far. Ares, Poseidon, and Hades, none of them seemed appropriate or terribly desirable. Bacchus also struck a wrong note. Fortunately, our son solved the problem for us by becoming addicted to the Disney video that became his Greek god name. The only problem was, when I read him the actual story of Hercules, he demanded to know “Where Pegasus was?” and telling him that Pegasus belonged to a different Greek hero of mythology didn’t satisfy.
With the birth of our next two daughters, the structure began to break down. We were out of goddesses that fit our daughter’s temperaments. Demeter? No, she’s mine. Hestia? No, that was mine too. Hera? Also mine. (Trust me, I need the harvest, hearth and wrath of three goddesses to get through the day), and the left over demi-goddesses were limited in appeal. Eris –goddess of discord? Thanks, no. Nike, spirit of Victory –debatable as to the gender. Persephone –raped and carried to the underground …ew…no. Helen of Troy, Penelope? What to do…and then…as before, the children solved it for us.
The two year old cupie doll came to discover her inner goddess name –the other day, in the early hours of the morning, she awakened. She went downstairs to the kitchen. After emptying the Cinnamon toast crunch and dancing the flakes into the floor, she channeled other artistic muses and scribbled on four walls using red marker, and filled in the window pane on the front door with black. Hungry from her artistic endeavors, she opened the freezer and got out the ice cream and had that for an early breakfast all before waking us up by pushing the panic button on my car keys.
Loki anyone?
The baby still needs to discover her moniker, but honestly, I’m not in any real hurry.
P.S. sorry this is a day late, but yesterday I did taxes, so by the end of the day, nothing was funny. For less taxing humor, try www.humor-blogs.com!
Apollo, god of music and light and reason, of course fit our gentle son’s personality. He was not a fighter, at least not with his fists.
Athena, pensive, tempermental and seemingly low maintenance until displeased, helped us to create our favorite phrase for describing her, like a goddess, easily amused, but also like a goddess, more easily perturbed. She also had her father’s heart wrapped around his finger.
Then Artemis showed up, and a cloud shadowed Athena’s face for a time. I have to share Dad? This is so wrong. While Apollo shined on…benevolently looking after his two sisters and indulging their daily competitions with each other –you know…girls. Artemis was also inscrutable, she'd be sweet and easy going one minute, and shut down another. She loved Athena but also loved driving her nuts by squirreling away time with Zeus. How come I never get fought over? Apollo remained unbothered by this sisterly rivalry. He’d roll his eyes with the smug knowledge of understanding that only a five year old could muster.
Then Hermes showed up. From the get go, he lived up to his Greek namesake, driving his older brother quite mad. He disassembled Lego models that had stood for years, made deals with his brother to not touch magic card decks in return for additional allowance, (yes a two year old can run an extortion racket, or at least this one did). He ran around the house at lightning speed, screaming to the point of inducing panic, causing his mother to ponder whether he was in fact the god of Nature rather than the swift footed glib brother of Apollo.
Alas, such were the golden days of Olympus
Hermes’ next sister showed up and he didn’t forgive us until a brother showed up two years later. Apollo actually thought this was great and regularly pointed out that “the replacement baby” had shown up because Hermes was so uncooperative. Zeus and I had to intervene. With her endless love of all things sparkly, pink, girlish and pretty, no one had any doubt who this blonde blue eyed goddess was. She got a glimpse of the ocean at the tender age of 1. The money quote sealed her as having been born of the water. “Mine.” Arms outstretched in a sign of hugging the whole Atlantic. Aphrodite claimed her title.
The next son, we struggled to name to continue the template. We hadn’t thought this far. Ares, Poseidon, and Hades, none of them seemed appropriate or terribly desirable. Bacchus also struck a wrong note. Fortunately, our son solved the problem for us by becoming addicted to the Disney video that became his Greek god name. The only problem was, when I read him the actual story of Hercules, he demanded to know “Where Pegasus was?” and telling him that Pegasus belonged to a different Greek hero of mythology didn’t satisfy.
With the birth of our next two daughters, the structure began to break down. We were out of goddesses that fit our daughter’s temperaments. Demeter? No, she’s mine. Hestia? No, that was mine too. Hera? Also mine. (Trust me, I need the harvest, hearth and wrath of three goddesses to get through the day), and the left over demi-goddesses were limited in appeal. Eris –goddess of discord? Thanks, no. Nike, spirit of Victory –debatable as to the gender. Persephone –raped and carried to the underground …ew…no. Helen of Troy, Penelope? What to do…and then…as before, the children solved it for us.
The two year old cupie doll came to discover her inner goddess name –the other day, in the early hours of the morning, she awakened. She went downstairs to the kitchen. After emptying the Cinnamon toast crunch and dancing the flakes into the floor, she channeled other artistic muses and scribbled on four walls using red marker, and filled in the window pane on the front door with black. Hungry from her artistic endeavors, she opened the freezer and got out the ice cream and had that for an early breakfast all before waking us up by pushing the panic button on my car keys.
Loki anyone?
The baby still needs to discover her moniker, but honestly, I’m not in any real hurry.
P.S. sorry this is a day late, but yesterday I did taxes, so by the end of the day, nothing was funny. For less taxing humor, try www.humor-blogs.com!
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