Priorities

Last night I kept my kids out late. I took them out of town on a school night and didn't bring them home until 10:30. When we pulled into the garage they were asleep and it took 10 minutes to wake them all up and to drag them into their rooms to put them to bed. I did all of this with full knowledge that they had full days of school, rehearsals, and practices ahead of them the next morning. I did this with the understanding of all of the research on proper rest and nutrition and the benefits of a structured schedule for kids. To make matters worse, this morning I decided that it was ok for them to sleep in for 30 extra minutes which made them a little late for school.

What was I thinking? I'll tell you what I was thinking: IT'S TOURNAMENT TIME BABY! Intitially, I told Lori that it would be best for them to stay home to make sure everyone got to bed on time. But that wouldn't last long. At about 2:30 Tuesday afternoon, Lori walked into my office and said, "I think we're coming to the game." I simply said, "ok" because I already knew what she was thinking.

You see the night before, I had to attend a game out of town and by the time I got home the kids were asleep. We didn't get to see each other at all and it was a night when my job kept me from being dad. So Tuesday night, we had to consider our options:
1. Send dad to the game alone so everyone can get to bed on time.
2. Spend the evening together, witness a championship game, and make some memories (and possibly be exhausted the next day).

We chose option 2. Thankfully we won the Region Championship and after the game my kids took turns holding the trophy. I talked to Pog today about the game. We talked about the feeling of winning as a result of preparation and hard work. We talked about what it feels like to work really hard at something and to see the hard work pay off.

This weekend we play two important games. If we win, we will earn a trip to Nashville to play for the state Final 4 and State Championship. In the event that it happens, I have no question about my top priority. My top priority will be with me in Nashville, cheering on the TEAM. They will miss a day or two of school, but to me it's worth it.

When the shit hits the fan

Ok, I've been reviewing some of my past blogs and I have to apologize. I vowed to "keep it 100" which means 100% real and genuine. But when I look back over my blogs, I realize that maybe I've left a few things out that are important. I find myself saying things like, "sometimes things are difficult" or "marriage is hard work" but I haven't gotten down to the nitty-gritty. Thus I didn't keep it 100.

Here's the real.

Our anniversary just passed. What I find myself wanting to write is that I ordered my wife flowers and had them delivered to her at work (which I did). I want to say that she bought me an ipod and I finally got to ditch my old Ipod shuffle that I've been using since '06 (which she did buy me). I want all my people to know that I made reservations at a fancy restaurant on the East Side (which I did). Those things are true, but there's another side to the story.

To make a long story short, we got into a big ass argument. One of the bad ones where feelings get hurt. It was the kind of argument that makes you wonder if marriages really work or not. It was the kind of argument that my friends who think we have it perfect don't know about. But it's also the kind of argument that lets you know a lot about your relationship.

Let me qualify: it wasn't an argument over a life-changing event. It wasn't an issue of commitment or money. It sure as hell wasn't about something that's a "deal breaker." It started Friday night when we were at dinner with a couple "friends." I say that in quotations, because they also happen to be parents from the school. For me that automatically means that I cannot relax around them, because our relationship is predicated on my job and our professional interactions. To make a long story short, Lori engaged in conversation about matters at the school which made me uncomfortable...well, it actually pissed me off. I didn't mention anything until the next day. One thing led to another and we ended up in an old fashioned blowout. It wasn't a blowout about the conversation though. It was one of those arguments that had been brewing for months. It was about work, stress, kids, and everything else that goes along with raising a family and maintaining a marriage. It was truly a time when neither of us were willing to give.

By 7:00 we had decided (not really but we were both really mad) that we were not going to the East Side for dinner. She stormed out of the house with steam coming out of her ears, and I proceeded to get dressed for a night out. Of course, our babysitter was in place, so I decided to leave before she got back. Not the best idea on your anniversary.

So I get downtown and spend the night walking up and down Beale Street listening to the blues (while getting hammered). I walked the streets of downtown Memphis wondering how the hell I ended up alone and drunk on the day when we're supposed to be celebrating our years together. I sent texts to a few of my friends letting them know I was in the midst of a terrible evening. I thought about calling her, but decided that I wasn't going to be the one to give in. So I sat in back of some blues bar at a table by myself, looking like the most pitiful man in Memphis. I wondered how we were going to be a successful couple when we couldn't even make our anniversary weekend enjoyable.

We didn't speak much the next day (which happened to be Valentine's day). She tried to make amends, but I was too stubborn to listen. She gave me my ipod and I said "thanks". The day went on in silence as I am the master of psycological warfare. That's my strength. I'm not so good in the heat of the argument, but I'm a sonofabitch when comes to being silent.

By the time 8:00 hit, I had decided that I wasn't going to sit around trying to be mean for another minute. I got dressed and said, "I'll see you later." I went over the Flying Saucer, a local pub with a great beer selection, and took a seat at the bar. Then I got a text saying "This is worst Valentine's day I've ever had...I tried to apologize and I gave you a gift...you repay by leaving?" I know, it was the wrong thing to do, but what can I say?

I texted back and that started WWIII, "The War of the Texts." We went back and forth for the better part of two hours with all the reasons why the other person was wrong. We traded our thoughts that we'd been harboring for some time on a litany of topics. Every once in a while I paused to say, "give me another" to the bartender. By the end of the night, I felt something that scared me: I didn't want to come home. I drove around for a while and even gave some random dude a ride...after I told him I would fuck him up if he tried anything.

The next day started the same: silence. I was determined that it wasn't my fault and not my turn to break. I told myself that it was on her this time and I would wait as long as it took. But then I realized that I hadn't spoken more than two words to my best friend in days. Folks, I realized that it hurt and it was lonely. So I broke the silence. It wasn't the type of conversation that ends with laughter and a play fight. It was some serious shit. We said things like, "you need to make me a priority again" and "I never thought I would feel like this." It was the type of conversation that defines relationships and through the pain, you figure out a way to get back on the same page. It wasn't fixed, but we gained a common ground.

Sometimes the shit hits the fan. It doesn't go right and people get hurt. The true test of friendship is that you fight through it, together. It takes a lot of trust to spill your guts to someone who has hurt you, but you have to be willing to go there. Even when it's a little scary.

I decided to take the morning off today. I invited Lori to Starbucks and we talked for a couple hours about stuff. Not about the argument. We took some time to connect on the level where everything started: as friends. We just talked about stuff that friends talk about, and it was the best morning I've had in a long time. I'm really looking forward to dinner tonight.

What they didn't tell you about being a dad part 1

Babies are poppin' up all over the place. Something must have been in the water in 09, because I've been hit up by at least 4 phone calls in the last month from friends letting me know they've got "one in the oven." Another 4-5 couples at work have little ones on the way. With all this baby madness surrounding me, I can't help but to get into a little baby talk on occassion. Yesterday I had a somewhat serious conversation with a friend about his baby boy that's due in a few weeks.

"I have to get a few more things ready." Money (my friend) speaks with such authority on the issue.

"Buddy, you're going to be saying that for the rest of your life," I say, trying not to sound cynical and jaded.

"I know...I just feel like I need to get some things in order before he gets here. I gotta get these blinds put up...gotta hang some pictures..." His voice fades and I can see his thoughts wondering.

At that point I wasn't sure what to tell him. A few things ran through my head, but all that I could come up with was, "Money, it's gonna be fine. You're gonna do a great job with this, and there's no way to be more ready than you are right now."

I already knew all the stuff he had read in books and heard from the ladies around the office, so I spared him the detailed advice about swaddling and burping the baby. I thought about some things that I will say next time somebody asks me about being a dad...and I came up with some random things that most people won't tell you (not in any order of importance).

1. It's ok to be afraid at first, but not ok to act like it.
2. The woman is way more attached to the baby than you are before it's born. You can't understand why...nothing's wrong with you...it will change the moment you see him/her.
3. The 6 weeks after the birth when you can't have sex really sucks. Get mentally prepared for that shit, because I had no clue and walked into it blindly.
4. Babies never sleep at all (unless you get lucky).
5. The first time you leave the baby (with a sitter or with family) overnight, she will agonize over it the whole time.
6. Sometimes your kids make you feel like a superhero.
7. Whenever you try to take a nap for the next 15 years, somebody is going to walk in and ask for something to eat.
8. They will grow up 10 times faster than you think.
9. One day your daughter will like boys...you will be pissed.
10. When your daughter likes boys you will be pissed at everybody: your daughter, all boys, and your wife. Everyone will conspire against you and you will not like it.
11. I hate boys...someday you will hate boys.
12. You don't know half of what you think you know.
13. Most things will not go according to plan.
14. It's like sports, you get back what you put in. It takes work to be good.
15. It's worth it. Whatever it is...it's worth it.

Fear not, this is not the end of the list...when the moment hits me, I will add to this thing from time to time.

Good Morning

I dropped my kids off today in front of the Lower School, and they all got out of the car smiling. My too cool for school 7th grader, my berzerk 5th grader, my brooding 2nd grader and my "not the morning person" 5-year-old. All four of them got out of the car with smiles on their faces wishing me a good day. I feel very successful as a result of that.

I've worked in schools for 8 years now. One thing I've always noticed is the morning ritual of drop off. I learn a tremendous amount about a family by the way they treat each other in the morning. Some dads shower their kids with hugs and they tell their kids they love them--every single day. With some it's hit or miss, and with others, it's cold and dry. It saddens me to see parents who are already engrossed in the problems of their day by 8:00 am. There are some who don't even acknowledge their kids as they get out of the car.

No matter how hectic the morning is at home, one of my goals for myself is to be in a good mood when it's time to drop off my kids. It's important that I wish them all a good day and that they walk in the front door feeling supported. I don't always make that happen, but it is a goal. As I always say, sometimes I just happen to get some things right. Score one for dad.

snow day

Snow days remind me of hustling. Not the hip-hop glamorized version, but the young, hungry and hard-working kind of hustling. I remember waking up on days with high snowfall ready to work. I didn't want to play in the snow, and I sure as hell didn't want hot chocolate. I wanted to get my shovel and I was out the door. I was the skinny kid knocking on doors offering to shovel walkways, porches and driveways for a few extra bucks. I would leave at the crack of dawn and return exhausted, my hands aching and stiff. But I had a sense of accomplishment when I was able to contribute, even if it was just 25 bucks for some groceries.

Fast forward 17 or 18 years to today. We actually had a snow day in Memphis, and I woke up feeling like I needed to go do something. That snow day feeling kind of hit me out of nowhere. My kids filed into the room one after another asking for stuff. We were all lazy, revelling in the pleasure of an unplanned day off. After the first round of requests and visits--cereal...toast...somebody's messing with me...the list goes on--Lori said, "I'm about to go to the store." There was no way I was going to send her out into this weather. Besides, it's the closest I can get to my days of door-to-door shoveling.

I pull out of my driveway, bumping that Dream remix, and drive down my street looking at all the snow-covered driveways on my block. I bet nobody on my street even owns a shovel. "I could have made a fortune" I think to myself. My next thought is: "My kids have no idea what it's like to be hungry. They don't even have the mindset to "hustle." I'm not sure what I expect them to do. Quite frankly we don't need 25 extra bucks for groceries and if we did they sure as hell would not be expected to chip in. I'm not even sure if I would be comfortable with them knocking on people's doors. I keep driving thinking that maybe I will force Kenzer and Mack to shovel somebody's driveway. That's it, I will make them hit the road on a quest to make some money and gain some valuable exprience speaking to people and doing hard work. I heard Lori's voice saying, "are you crazy?" What a stupid idea. I picture them sitting at home in front of the flat screen, giggling and relaxed. I think about telling them how hard I used to work on snow days, but I decide that maybe it will just sound like criticism. Damn...I'm at a loss for words.

I always thought that somehow I could use my hardships growing up to help them understand the world. I thought in some roundabout way that my kids would always remember where I came from. I walk out of the store feeling like I dropped the ball.

Have I spoiled them? I'm not sure. I worked my ass off to make sure my kids never have to do the things that I had to do as a kid. I don't want them to see what I saw. But I can't help but to wonder what kind of people they will grow up to be if they don't know what it's like to struggle. I've got to figure out a way to keep them "hungry" without being hungry, if you know what I mean. In the meantime, we're going to enjoy a big snow day breakfast with some hot chocolate. I'm not sure if that's what is supposed to happen, but it feels like the right thing to do.