I will be taking my talents to…
This week is letter of intent week for college football, or
national signing day. It is a way more
stressful time than it should be for grown men.
Depending on your perspective, either fortunately or unfortunately this year it is way less stressful than it used to be, but
I will admit still too much of my energy is consumed by this. An adult’s life shouldn’t revolve around
sweating the college choices of 17 -18 year olds…that aren’t yours. But technically it does have an effect on the
outcome of most of the Saturdays in the fall each year, even though it doesn’t
really change the world...completely. I
used to think it did, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t any longer. Still, my friends from all schools are
absolutely going nuts and glued to their recruiting pages and twitter. Yes grown men are following the twitter feeds
of teenagers, but not in a way that could get you arrested (mostly).
This is daddy-daughter dance weekend. I am taking my sweet
five year old daughter Josephine to her very first dance. I asked on Facebook if I should get her a
corsage or not and 100 responses later there was: a limo, diamonds, bouquets, dinner,
dessert, and every other wish-list fantasy all the neighborhood mom’s wanted to
relive being suggested. It was
awesome…and Josie will reap the benefits for sure (but not the entire list,
that is crazy). I have to tell you there
is a LOT of passion about a girl’s first daddy-daughter dance experience. I had no idea, how passionate. Sure,
I still get excited over stupid stuff like that jerky linebacker who flipped commitments
or hitting the gut shot straight on the river, but otherwise I’m pretty even
keeled…now. Josie is beside herself
excited. I told her about the dance on Tuesday
morning and she almost did a somersault. She is now trying to decide which of
her “fancy” dresses she’ll wear and of course Nita is taking her to get new
shoes.
I love this excitement the kids are showing to spend time
with me. It certainly makes me miss my
father, but it helps me cherish these times with my kids. Sunday, Nita took Josie to a birthday party
that Connor was not invited to attend. We decided we’d have a daddy-son day. He ran off and made a list of things we
were going to do, and we did almost all of them. We went to Academy to buy new gear for the
upcoming baseball season, went to an arcade, to lunch, to a jumpy place, to a
baseball clinic, the aquarium, then back home for ice cream. All in seven hours. (This is what I mean when I say I tend to
overdo it when I’m having a good day). Nita was amazed and Connor was all
grins. “You went to Catch Air (jumpy
place) for 30 minutes?” She asked. “Hell
yes we did, it was on the list!” I responded with an added wink and a smile.
Speaking of excitement...my son just came up to me and
admitted he was throwing rocks at the church preschool security lights…and he
broke one. I’m proud of him for two
reasons and disappointed for two reasons.
First the disappointment: 1. He followed someone else doing something
wrong. 2. He knew it was wrong but didn’t stop until an adult stopped him. Why
I’m proud: 1. He admitted without lying or blaming anyone else that he was
guilty, had broken a bulb, and knew it was wrong. 2. He hit the bulb. Now some of you might be shaking your head
like Nita was when I asked if he actually hit the bulb. Connor and I have been working on throwing
the baseball for years. And because of
his Sensory issues and ADHD, he sometimes throws a semi-accurate ball and other
times looks like he just landed from mars and has never seen a ball before…or
worse that Volvo or Volkswagen commercial with the dad who throws like he’s
having a seizure. Anyway, yes, Connor
hit his target and I was proud. Of
course we gave him a punishment and he’s going to have to do chores to work off
the price of the bulb…but he HIT the TARGET.
This could be a breakout year for us.
From what I have heard seven is the first age of
defiance. Not that toddlers don’t waddle
around saying “no,” or five year olds seeking new boundaries by seeing where
the line is, but rather defiance in the face of acknowledged authority. That is happening a little of course, but
what I’m still proud of is the honesty.
Connor does not lie about his actions.
He still commits the act which we obviously need to work on, but he
doesn’t lie about it. He owns up to his
mistakes and acknowledges them as mistakes.
Further, he doesn’t play the “I don’t know card.” Regarding the rock throwing, when asked why
he did it he stated, “I saw XXXXXX doing it and it looked interesting to me, so
I did it too.” Did I mention he hit his
target? I wish I had his courage at his
age. I have always said that character
is baked in not bolted on after the fact. So we are
doing something right. Oh and the other
kid denied he was even involved. Even
more proud of Connor now. I even stopped
by his school to have lunch with him on Wednesday.
Side effect wise, this hasn’t been too bad of a week. Someone asked me about the “good” days. I told them that I don’t actually remember
what it was like to feel great, so I don’t know if my good days are relatively
good, or actually good. I know they are
way better than chemo week, so for now that is enough. The hair has had it. It’s got one more weekend for daddy-daughter
dance (I don’t want Josie’s very first picture for a dance to look like a telethon
commercial). So we’re going to take the clippers outside
and make it a family affair the following weekend. Then, as promised, the kids
can have at my dome with the washable markers.
And yes Kirby, I’ll show my “war face.”
TeamMarco@austin.rr.com
I love Connor's honesty too. What a sweet, neat kid!! You and Nita are doing a great job. xo
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