nothing says "i love you" like a shoe full of swords n spiderman

i am now 38. which doesn't feel much different than 37, except my book is at the publishers, our house in new mexico that has been such a pain in the ass closes out the end of this month (with enough money for us to break even on every house-related loan!) and i am making more money from my gi bill this semester than i thought because the summer semester is accelerated.

nos. 1 n 2 are doing well, except that i think we need to up no. 1's dosage on his adhd medication because his behavior is showing a lack of control that concerns me and needs to be fixed before he starts school again.

and the title? well, today i went to the gym after class and when i put on my running shoe, i felt something:

"what the--?" it was a little plastic lego sword.

spiderman was living in my other shoe.

just those little reminders from afar, "hey, i'm still here, and i still care."

kinda like this post.

darth sardonic

father's day

like many things that might thrust me into the spotlight and place me centerstage of which i don't necessarily feel deserving, i managed to completely forget all about father's day until about two days ago or so.

i had to work, followed by my wife having to work, so it had the feel of a mostly normal sunday.

but you know how my brain works, o my beloved non-existant readers, and so i present to you, my views on being a father:

being a father is a constant battle. you are on the frontlines for your children, protecting them from mediocrity, stupidity and ignorance, and the common cold.

being a father means you know when to talk softly, and when to yell. being a father means you will fuck up the difference at least once a week. being a father means when you fuck it up, you will shuffle your happy little ass up the stairs, look your kid in the damp eyes, and say, "daddy fucked up. i'm sorry."

being a father means you can fix anything. and if you can't fix it, you will make it magically disappear when no one is looking. being a father means you will sometimes agonize at great length over the things that cannot be fixed.

being a father means you will dive unheeding into traffic to pluck your unsuspecting child from danger. it also means you may do that for someone else's child.

being a father means you will revel at the incredibly simple and beautiful things your child points out to you: the path of an ant, the magestry of a blade of grass, the grandeur of the moon. each and every day will be discovered anew and afresh through a child's eyes as if it is the first day ever of all time.

being a father means you will hurt beyond your wildest imagination. the kind of hurt that can neither be explained, described, or fixed with medications, deep breathing, or alcohol.

being a father means you will never again not be tired.

being a father means you will stand on the edge of the unending abyss, curl your lip into a sardonic snarl, and say, "fuck you. it's not time yet, motherfucker."

being a father means you will feel the deepest sadness, the greatest heighths of joy, wild elation, crippling depression, bitterness, silliness, frustration, giddiness, and open to the very gods that reside in each and every thing around you. sometimes you will feel all these things in the very space of a single day.

being a father means you will be humbled constantly. the greatest humility will come at the simple and beautiful and heartfelt and true things your child will say to you when you have reached the very bottom of your lowest pit and have abandoned all hope of ever getting out.

being a father means you will never have laughed the loudest or cried the hardest before in your life, and you will often wonder what you did to feel alive prior to having children.

being a father is realizing that your life, in and of it's tiny and insignificant self, doesn't matter so much anymore as anything but a guide to the lives that you have helped create and that god has entrusted you with.

being a father is being daily amazed that god had that much faith in you in the first fucking place.

dad: i still think about you sometimes.

darth sardonic

happy father's day

happy father's day to one and all.

i'm going to a bar-b-que at my mom's, which is sure to be fun, because my brother and his wife, who is, to put it nicely, "off", will be there with their hellion kids (not that mine are angels, but i battle to keep them behaving. my brother and his wife's idea of getting their kids to behave is to follow them all over the house spouting a constant litany: "c don't touch that. c put that down. c don't do that you're gonna break it. c quit climbing on that. god kid you are driving me crazy. c stop that...."), and overall, my brother and i can tolerate each other's presence (but only for so long).

family dynamics are fun. wheee.

what i really want for father's day (barring the ability to transport my wife back here for a weekend), is someone else to watch my kids for a weekend while i fuck off to hawaii or cancun or aruba.

oh, and world peace, a winged unicorn, and my own personal rainbow complete with pot of gold.

again, happy father's day to all those dads out there.

and to you too, dad.

darth sardonic