July 14th, 2011

Look at me!

I loved this post from Grumbles and Grunts about getting down and playing with our kids. And it reminded me of a story about me and my dad and rather than hijack her comments, I thought I would tell it here. Plus, I have nothing to talk about but Spencer turning 2 next week! eek! and BlogHer eek! So, this will be away to put off those posts for another day.

I would like to preface this by saying that I don’t remember this at all, but it was told to me so often by my parents that I feel like I do. Which, interestingly, is how much of my childhood memories are framed. I remember people telling me about them, not the incident itself.

My dad mowed the lawn without fail every Saturday. For a few years, maybe 6-8 yrs old, I would be right out there with him, following him with my pop mower and telling him about my week. For an hour or two (we had a big lawn). The only breaks in my narrative would be to fetch him beers. I was happy as a clam, with my dad’s undivided attention. I only had the one sister, but at this time, my dad worked long hours and one-on-one time was rare.

The smarty-pants in the crowd might have noticed the point of interest in this story. He could not hear a single word I was saying. Not a bit. And as a child, I neither knew or cared. All I knew was that I had daddy time. Overall, my parents were pretty game with the “look at me!” or the plays or the roller skate restaurant, which, by the way, I think might have served air food and actual beers. My sister and I knew how to throw a party, even at that early age.

I guess my point is that we remember the playing, not the ignoring, for I am sure they didn’t play every time we asked, but I couldn’t tell you. I think it is important to have a balance. And we learned at a young age to go bug my mom when Big Ten football was on. That was craft time.

As a child, I did a ton of reading. A ton. It warms the cockles of my icy heart to see Spencer flip through the pages of a book and narrate the story in his own little way. If Spencer ends up an only, he is going to need to learn to play on his own, but the onus will be on us to play more, too.  I think one of the biggest benefits, as a child, to having a sibling is the built in playmate. As an adult, it might be having someone to get drunk and price things for the estate sale with.

September 14th, 2010

Back to Blogging: Day 2

The assignment for today is to re-upload a post you wish more people had read.  I chose the following post, which I wrote on what would have been my dad’s 65th birthday in May of this year i. It was so heartfelt and got almost no page views and no comments. It was important to me because it was one of my first really honest posts that wasn’t about mothering or my baby.

Dads

Yesterday would have been my dad’s 65th birthday. He died over five years ago and his birthday still bums me out a bit. He never really got a birthday celebration growing up, it always seemed to be overshadowed by something, first communions, school trips, recitals, girl scout events and every few years, Mother’s Day. He always accepted it being moved quite graciously and only seemed to want socks, underwear and garden hoses as gifts.  While we had our differences, I’m lucky we had a chance to work everything out and spent some great years together before he passed away.

My son was born 5 years to the day after my dad died and as a result got an unexpected middle name addition which is cool because Spencer’s dad has two middle names, too. I have to think that that birthday was my dad’s way of saying hi and giving his blessing. My boy doesn’t have any living grandparents on my side of the family, and part of me feels guilty, like I robbed my parents of the chance to be grandparents by waiting until my 30s to have a child. And my dad wanted a boy so badly, and was stuck with just me and my sister. As a result, we learned to use power tools and played lots of backyard catch, and for that I am grateful.  I have good friends whose dads’ died when they were quite young and my husband’s dad died when he was 2. So, I understand that I am lucky to have my dad until just after my 30th birthday. Still, I’m sad today and I think it is ok. Sometimes, in pictures, my little guy has the same exact glint in his eye that my dad had and I know it is my dad saying hi.

Perhaps my favorite memories of my dad are him teaching me how to ride a bike and then drive a car, both took place at our town’s government center because we lived on a hilly street with no sidewalks that didn’t lend itself to learning either. He had such a calming and unflappable presence; it made learning easy. My mom, on the other hand, was prone to new driver hysterics. Now, that I am a mom, I understand that a little better. I am also thinking that my husband will be the one giving the driving lessons. As an added bonus, he has a lot of experience, seeing as how he taught every other one of my female friends how to drive a stick in high school. Not me though. He STILL hasn’t taught me how to drive a stick, but now that we own one again, plans are in the works.

This post has veered a little wildly. Most likely because I wrote it over the entire course of his birthday and decided to wait a day to post it. I was in a pretty big funk when I started, but after (finally) finding the box of family photos I have been trying to find for the last 2 years, I am in much better spirits. Happy Birthday, Dad!

May 13th, 2010

Dads

1970s

Yesterday would have been my dad’s 65th birthday. He died over five years ago and his birthday still bums me out a bit. He never really got a birthday celebration growing up, it always seemed to be overshadowed by something, first communions, school trips, recitals, girl scout events and every few years, Mother’s Day. He always accepted it being moved quite graciously and only seemed to want socks, underwear and garden hoses as gifts.  While we had our differences, I’m lucky we had a chance to work everything out and spent some great years together before he passed away.

1980s

My son was born 5 years to the day after my dad died and as a result got an unexpected middle name addition which is cool because Spencer’s dad has two middle names, too. I have to think that that birthday was my dad’s way of saying hi and giving his blessing. My boy doesn’t have any living grandparents on my side of the family, and part of me feels guilty, like I robbed my parents of the chance to be grandparents by waiting until my 30s to have a child. And my dad wanted a boy so badly, and was stuck with just me and my sister. As a result, we learned to use power tools and played lots of backyard catch, and for that I am grateful.  I have good friends whose dads’ died when they were quite young and my husband’s dad died when he was 2. So, I understand that I am lucky to have my dad until just after my 30th birthday. Still, I’m sad today and I think it is ok. Sometimes, in pictures, my little guy has the same exact glint in his eye that my dad had and I know it is my dad saying hi.

1990s

Perhaps my favorite memories of my dad are him teaching me how to ride a bike and then drive a car, both took place at our town’s government center because we lived on a hilly street with no sidewalks that didn’t lend itself to learning either. He had such a calming and unflappable presence; it made learning easy. My mom, on the other hand, was prone to new driver hysterics. Now, that I am a mom, I understand that a little better. I am also thinking that my husband will be the one giving the driving lessons. As an added bonus, he has a lot of experience, seeing as how he taught every other one of my female friends how to drive a stick in high school. Not me though. He STILL hasn’t taught me how to drive a stick, but now that we own one again, plans are in the works.

2000s

This post has veered a little wildly. Most likely because I wrote it over the entire course of his birthday and decided to wait a day to post it. I was in a pretty big funk when I started, but after (finally) finding the box of family photos I have been trying to find for the last 2 years, I am in much better spirits. Happy Birthday, Dad!

November 19th, 2009

Resemblance of Things Past

I don’t know what it is about this picture:

There is something about this picture that reminds me so much of my dad. I look a lot like my dad and people say Spencer looks like me (I don’t see it) so it stands to reason that they might look similar, but this picture.  Somehow this picture evokes my dad.  Maybe it is the pose or the look on his face, I have no idea.  Spencer and my dad will always have a special bond because Spencer was born on the fifth anniversary of my dad’s death and this picture certainly shows some of that connection.  When I first saw the picture after I took it, I felt like my dad was saying hello.  Hi Dad! We all miss and love you.