And He Cried Like A Baby

I love my family. There’s no other way to say it. I have an awesome wife who always agrees with me, and two awesome kids who always obey unquestioningly. They are awesome. OK. Well. Maybe my wife doesn’t always agree with me, and maybe my two kids show an occasional lack of awesomeness in the obedience and behavioral psychology department, but still think they are awesome.

For my part, I may occasionally exhibit less-than-awesome. I know, it’s hard to believe. I’m usually so charming, you can’t imagine anything less. How many times have I said, “you just can’t turn it off.” Nevertheless, I’ve been occasionally accused of being crotchety before my time. For awhile my wife nicknamed me “Cob” because I sounded like a “crotchety old bas….” Well, you get the idea. Alas! Sad but true, if I am honest.

And so, I admit that I occasionally channel Oscar the Grouch more than Big Bird. I may show tendencies towards barking at cars in traffic that are impeding my way. I may rant about a lot of really small details that drive me a bit bonkers. In spite of that, while I may sometimes exude all the warm and cuddly demeanor of a twirked-off grizzly who just had his fish stole, inside beats the heart of a ferocious teddy bear. And I love my family.

As I’ve mentioned before, my daughter is pretty active. She plays a couple of sports and is really involved in Speech & Debate (or at least the Speech part). This is a really busy time of year as both basketball and speech events are in full swing. It doesn’t afford me much time to write on the blog or get out and run, but it does afford me some other opportunities.

A few weeks ago, she participated in a Speech tournament that is hosted annually by our Speech & Debate club. And, as many parents often are, I was slated to help out. It just so happens that I was tasked with running the scoring tabulation for the event. This provided me with a unique perspective to see what was going on before anybody else. It was like getting to see the premiere of a blockbuster movie before it gets released.

So, there I was, watching the scores come in. It was particularly exciting when we’d get scores in from one of the events my daughter was participating in. How difficult it was to keep a straight face when I asked her about how her day went, knowing that she had garnered really high marks. It was great. It really surprised me, to be honest, the level of emotion that was stirred while putting in the results and managing things in the back room.

As the event came to an end after three days of competition, all the kids were assembled for the results to be announced. You’d think it would be anticlimactic for me given I already knew who won. After all, I was there when the final judge evaluations were turned in. I was there when the final scores were tabulated. So, as much as I had been surprised about my anxiety in the scoring room, I was completely unprepared when they announced my daughter’s first place ranking in one of her events. Despite being a crotchety ole bastage, despite knowing the results ahead of time, there’s something special about seeing your kids succeed in something they have worked so hard for. It was a special moment.

I may be more Oscar than Big Bird, more cactus than wallflower, more porcupine than puppy. But I love my family. I love my daughter. And someday, I hope to be more like her.

Lone Wolf

I’m not much of a loner. Oh, sure, I enjoy some peace and quiet as much as the next person. I like to plug in to an occasional video game (I admit my geekery unabashedly, thank you very much), which is a fairly self-isolating activity (multi-player avenues aside). But, for the most part, I’m sort of a pack animal, and I’m ok with that.

Being the father of a fairly active teenage daughter doesn’t always mesh so well with my wolf-pack personality. She has a lot going on, and I’m proud of her for it. But given that she can’t tote herself around, it means I am relegated to chauffeur duty for a larger percentage of my waking hours than I sometimes care to admit. I suppose I’m ok with that, too, but it invariably places me at odds with myself. Suddenly I have some time to myself, but in a manner I didn’t necessarily choose, in a place I have no other interest in, without the comforts of whatever I might normally partake of had I chosen the time, place and duration.

Fatherhood is full of little surprises like that. It’s been a pretty cool ride. I’ve been to places I’d never otherwise have gone to do things I’d never otherwise have done. I’ve spent a lot of nights sitting in a noisy gymnasium feeling that awkward feeling of being around a bunch of people that you’ve seen a dozen times or more who are there because they have a daughter on the team, but you’re past the point of introductions and you feel too stupid to say hello because you don’t remember their name even though you see them three days a week or more.

I suppose that’s a part of helping the cubs learn to develop a pack of their own. I won’t always be able to join in. I’m exceedingly aware that the clock is ticking and someday soon she’ll be off doing her own thing and making her way without me. So I’m going to make the most of the time I have. Even if it means I have to give up some of my game time. Or I have to sit and kill a couple of hours at a coffee shop so she can go to ‘girls night’ (what else could possibly motivate me to pay that much for a cup of coffee?). Of sit with a bunch of people that I should probably know but am afraid to talk to because I can’t remember their names. Sometimes, fatherhood means being the lone wolf.

Sometimes, the lone wolf just has to ride…. alone.