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The baseball season ended at 11:30 Saturday morning. Not for you, I know, and certainly not for the professional athletes still a few games away from halfway through their millionaire romp towards September or, if they’re lucky, all the way to October and a bigger paycheck.
But it ended for the Hershey Little League Colts 9 team sponsored by Hershey Realty or, as we liked to call ourselves, the Blue Jays. And my royal blue coach’s jersey hangs soaked in sweat and rain over the chair in the next room.
Waking up in the morning, we werent entirely free of concern about whether we’d pull off the game at all. We knew going in that at least two of our best players would be out of town. Friday night’s weather report threatened rain, even thunderstorms. Recent real storms had forced us to reschedule this final game at least twice and to move the field just as many times, to make way at the main league field for older age group playoffs.
When I arrived at the field, our little boys in blue were playing catch on the infield dirt. As I did before every game, arriving between 20-30 minutes before the first pitch, I made a quick count of our players. Normally, each team fields 10 kids – one for every normal infield position and four outfielders. There were twelve kids on our roster, but not since the second game did we have a full crew all at once, so, for most games, each kid was able to play the whole game without substitution. When I got to the field on Saturday, I counted 8. By the time we called “play ball!”, two more – the brother and sister pair – had made it to the field.
Unfortunately, our opponents for the day, dressed in yellow, were six kids short of a team. A few players and even some coaches for the other side thought that we werent playing until 3 in the afternoon, so we delayed the start of the game for almost a half hour to give everyone time to arrive. We juggled the lineups and field positions just so we could get the game in, and for the first two innings, we lent our opponents in the yellow jerseys two outfielders. And we inserted coaches as catchers for most of the game and pitchers for the entire game in order to occupy more positions in the field.
These are but minor details. We started late, but there was no game behind us, so we were in no rush, and nobody in the park, players, coaches or parents alike, had any desire to forfeit the last game of the season for any reason. The game would go on. It had to.
With our two best hitters – who were also the most reliable gloves – absent, the pressure was on me to offer up some slow sweet pitches, giving the kids the best chance at putting the bat on the ball. Still, it took us about three innings to find our hitting groove, and before we knew it, we were losing 12-0. There is no worse feeling for a pee-wee baseball coach than striking out three batters in a row. Each inning, I moved a little closer to the plate, trying to reduce the vertical curve of the ball without throwing it too hard. But as I got closer, they got better, and four times I had to duck all the way to the dirt to avoid getting hit in the face with a mean line drive.
We had our standard problems and beautiful small victories, despite the early score. We even had a double play, and every one of our kids was able to get on base at least once. Thats a big deal – these are 7- and 8-year-olds. Next year, a full third will probably have turned in their gloves for video games or music lessons. At 7 and 8, just about every boy and girl tries soccer and baseball, but attrition comes quick. We had our share of clover-pickers and daydreamers, but by the end of the season, every kid, from the best to the least best, had improved greatly in their own way. My son was one of the most improved from start to finish – this being his first season playing the sport. In April and May, my playing catch with him meant that I had to throw my back out, reliably, having to bend down on every throw just to pick the ball back up off the grass. But when we played catch a few nights ago, he was throwing it right to me and he was catching most of my throws as well. And his batting went from shy and nervous to confident and quick, and when he first rounded third and headed for home about midway through the season, with me fortuitously manning the 3rd base coach spot and waving him home, earning a probably over-done hug from his old man, he didnt stop there – he’s been getting better every game.
He wasnt the only one. We had a few nice pop fly catches, a great throw from shortstop to first, and they even got the hang of backing each other up.
<img style=”max-width: 800px;” src=”http://www.remnants.nine9pages.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/out-of-the-dugout.jpg” width=”354″ height=”532″ /><div align=”center”><small><i>Out of the dugout and onto the field.</i></small></div><br />
There were still some little league moments, where we looked like the Bad News Bears. Jordan took a shot to the nose – playing in left field, a pop fly bounced a few feet in front of him and took a bad hop right at his face. We took him off the field and iced his nose for only a few minutes before he was wiping away the tears and running back out onto the field.
The drama of the game took on an extra bit of excitement when the dark clouds moving towards us from the west opened up for a 5-minute drenching downpour. We were in the field, and our kids suddenly leapt to life. Like a dozen blooming flowers our strange gang of first and second graders jumped with joy and yelped with glee, thrilled with the weather and very quickly soaked to the bone. And I was in the midst of it, standing next to my oldest son in left-center field, giving guidance and encouragement to our team, letting them know where the play was and reminding them to pay attention. Suddenly my youngest son ran out onto the field to stand next to me, his short-cropped hair and white shirt soaked all the way through and grinning from ear to ear. He wasnt there for any reason other than to try to share some of what the team was feeling, and there was no way I was going to tell him to get off the field. He was fine right where he was.
By the end of the game every kid and coach on the field and every parent and sibling sitting on the bleachers increasingly revealed the same intense yearning, as if driven by some psychic magnetism, to hold fast to the diamond. Even though we never caught up in the score, both teams were having so much fun that we extended the game a full two extra innings, and in the last inning we ignored the outs and just let both teams bat around.
Nobody wanted to go home. We had an up and down season, some good games, some frustrating ones. Some tears and some surprises, and our share of pouting and shuffling bored back to the dugout, dropping balls, running the wrong way, and bumps, scrapes and bruises. And at least once a game I found myself tying someone’s shoe, and we even had a surprise appearance by a baby toad in the outfield. But as this last game neared the final out, and the storm clouds had given way to blue skies, the atmosphere seemed to murmur the melancholic gratitude we all shared – a season, or any similar experience, doesnt need to be perfect or brilliant or unbeatable in order to be memorable – in order to be something we never want to let go of.
I wasnt the head coach. I volunteered before the first practice and it was the best decision I’ve made in quite some time. It was an experience I’ll never forget, but it was also the kind of experience that can inspire more of the same. We can always look back on the pictures and videos we made during this season, but those tangible reminders dont need to be all that endures as a result of what we did this year. Both of my sons made new friends because of this team. I made new friends, too. And I got to be the first to congratulate so many kids on things they had never done before – their first hit, their first double play, their first run, their first catch. Giving them high-fives, hugs and fist bumps, when their emotions are quivering excitedly between shock and impossibly pure joy, is like nothing else in the world.
When, as adults, we can live vicariously through the developing emotional and physical education of our children and their friends, themselves growing to realize and appreciate what it mean to be part of a team, it finally makes me believe that we can get high on life.
So I’m sad tonight, because it’s over. My jersey is hanging there. My partner and I must have lamented about the end of the season for more than an hour after we got home today, reminiscing about all the good times we shared. But I’m also happy, because I know that it’s only this season that has ended – and because this season is the start of something that can last for a very long time, if we want it to. It doesnt matter if it inspires another baseball season, or a set of piano lessons, or a new adventure in camping, painting or learning how to hustle friends at the poker table. The inspiration is there for us to do with it as we choose.
So this goes out to all of our kids – Cameron, Jack C., Jack E., Jackson, Jonathan, Jordan, Kieran, Liberty, Luke, Miles, Wyatt and Zach. I love you all. And to our coaches, Vinnie and Brian, and our volunteers who stepped up to help whenever we needed help – Carly and Jake and Dan the Bat Man, and everybody else. And to every kid we played against, and all the coaches in between. I’m grateful to all of them for letting me in on their ride, and I always will be. So even when the rain washes our footprints away from today’s dirt, I’m pretty sure we’ll be able to find our way back the way we came, whichever direction it points us in down the road.
Banana Splits Resource Center — Support Groups for Children with Divorced/Deceased Parents
I “received” a notice this morning that Seven has the opportunity to get involved with the “Banana Splits” program at his school. By “received,” of course, I mean that I was handed a permission slip this morning by BM (short for “Biological Mother” or “Baby Mama” or “Baroness von Munchausen” — take your pick) as I was dropping Four off at her house. Seven’s teacher knows or ought to know by now that she is supposed to be sending home two copies of everything. BM claimed that she received the permission slip on Friday. But the fact that it was due back to school today makes that claim seem a bit less true.
Either way, Seven will now participate in this program. I tried to put the slip in my pocket so I could review the information and make a decision, but that was prevented by BM who said the thing was due back immediately. Sure it was. Even though we dropped Seven off at school this morning without returning the slip that we didnt know about until close to 10 am this morning. Anyway, the information provided on the back of the slip seemed reasonable enough.
And BM added her favorite line to the equation, which was (and always is), “Seven is really looking forward to it.” She said the same thing about a birthday party that Four attended yesterday. Before knowing if we were able to bring him to the party, she had told him about it. Her Grand Plans involve setting the boys up for being disappointed in their father. Very simply, there is no reason to tell the kids to expect something if one of the parents making the decision about that thing has yet to make the decision. Idiot.
Anyway, this morning I did some research on this “Banana Splits” program and I’ll admit that I’m actually less impressed about it — rather, more concerned about it — than I was at first. Briefly — the program was established in 1978 by a social worker in upstate New York as a way to counsel and educate children going through a divorce or dealing with a custody situation, or children of deceased parents.
It’s not unimportant that children of divorce are grouped with children of deceased parents. In most cases of divorce, one parent, usually the mother, is able to effectively kill the other parent through the custody and support process.
But this wasnt the case with Seven and Four, my two sons. And through no fault of their mother’s, I assure you. Despite her best efforts, as well as the efforts of her disfunctional and aggressively ignorant extended family, the boys enjoy a relatively equal (though not completely so) parenting arrangement. As I read through a lot of the information available online about this Banana Splits program, I see that the thing was mostly designed for children who, through either death or divorce, live primarily with one parent.
What bothers me most about the program is the focus on anger. Just look at how the program describes some of its own ideas:
III. Crafts
“Pillows” – For cuddling or smacking: self soothing or harmless discharge. From an old sheet, cut rectangles twice as long as they are wide. Turn over about a half inch all the way around to make a smooth edge and iron it flat. Have the kids create a personal design for their pillows, using paper for a rough draft. Let them share and discuss their choice of design. Fold over the cloth rectangle, put cardboard between the cloth sides to prevent color bleeding, and then copy the design onto half the rectangle with permanent Sharpie markers. Have the kids stitch two sides shut, stuff the pillow with polyester fluff, and then stitch the remaining side shut. Kids keep these for years.
“Mad Cookies” – Learning to do something creative with anger. Make a smooth cookie dough without any hard bits such as chocolate or raisins. Place one Ziploc baggie inside another for double strength, then put a small amount of dough inside each, press out the air, and zip shut. Explain that these cookies taste better the more the dough is beaten, and then let the kids pound it. (Have extra baggies on hand in case of breakage.) Bake and eat, or let the kids take home their dough with baking instructions. Next meeting, ask the younger kids: who had the chance to bake their cookies? who helped them at home? (Thanks to Helen Fitzgerald, VA.)
Anger is a recurring theme. The program assumes that children are exposed to angry situations and those of conflict. While this is often true for many kids, the idea of Seven sitting in a room full of angry kids, or kids encouraged to find anger among their emotions makes me very concerned. When BM initiated the physical removal of the children from their father (me), Seven was 3 and Four wasnt even born yet. Their particular custody situation is something they’ve lived with most of their lives. And while we might expect Dad to be relatively clueless to the inner workings of their minds, my partner and I are constantly reminded and congratulated for raising such well-behaved, polite and helpful young boys. We maintain an open dialog with them, one which I think has even improved on that which my partner and I experienced as children in our “un-broken” homes.
I dont object to having my kids learn ways to understand and cope with their feelings. And obviously part of their experience involves growing up in two homes, which can be challenging for both the kids and their teachers. And it’s not unimportant to recognize that, while my partner and I — married, stable and highly involved in the boys’ lives — are creating a positive environment for them, they may not be exposed to a similar situation at their other house with their mother and her current boyfriend. Impossible to go into in a post like this is the fact that BM still obviously suffers greatly from the split, is always reminding the boys that they are different, constantly puts their education and other experiences into the context of a divided family, and is repeatedly reminding them that there is a conflict between her and me.
I cant possibly categorically reject the idea of my kids getting involved in a program like Banana Splits. But it does worry me — the tone it takes and the things it seems to assume about what the kids are dealing with. It is simply impossible for even a small group of children to adequately learn from a generalized program like this which is going to cater to those kids who do fit the apparent profile of children in a conflicted family. So I worry that their experiences will be filtered into these negative assumptions.
We’ll have to see how it goes. Maybe the application of these ideas promoted by the program is less presumptuous and negative than their summary makes them seem. I certainly hope so.
It’s that time of year again, when Parent-Teacher Conferences are running strong. If you were fortunate enough to have received proper advance notice of the event, you got the chance to engage in this all important milestone in the education of your children. I say “fortunate” because, as we know, not every school notice makes its way through Mommy’s house to Daddy’s house. And this event is so important because it gives us a chance to learn about and discuss our children from someone else’s perspective.
The idea of Parental Alienation, controversial in itself, isnt so widely known as it should be. Whether it fits or deserves to fit into a clinical or legal category of behavior, when we examine what it means, it is obvious that it happens. Wikipedia defines Parental Alienation Syndrome like this:
a putative disorder proposed by Richard A. Gardner as “a disturbance in which children are obsessively preoccupied with depreciation and/or criticism of a parent. In other words, denigration that is unjustified and or exaggerated.” Although Parental Alienation Syndrome has not gained official recognition as a psychological disorder, case law has recognized it in child custody disputes.
So, Parental Alienation, whether a disorder or a crime or not, is when a child is exposed to and responds in kind to criticism of one or both of his parents. As divorced fathers, it’s not tough to find examples of when this has happened. Most of the controversy has to do with how this criticism affects children in the long-term. But it does happen, and it’s not limited to the other parent, either. Children become alienated from their fathers when courts make biased judgments against them, keeping them from their dads for reasons absent of evidence or cause. Children become alienated from their fathers when mothers make “kitchen-table complaints” — a term I just invented to describe those conversations had between adults in the home where kids are within earshot, even at the table — about dad’s “problems,” be they problems that might have contributed to the divorce or behaviors that mom doesnt agree with even after the separation.
And children become alienated from their fathers when the classroom environment includes decisions, questions or models of behavior that exclude the child’s second home, second set of parents, or even their second set of experiences. This can include encouraging the child to learn only one home phone number and address, or always asking, “what did you do at mommy’s house this weekend?” or sending notes to one house but not the other (notes that parents refer to with their kids, and which the kids notice is missing from one house), or including only one parent in extracurricular activities. Of course, as the kids grow up, the situations will be different, and I’m sure I’m only listing a small number of possible scenarios.
But we can do things to counter this, and so I’ve made a list.
1. Use the term carefully. Some people know what you’re talking about when you say “Parental Alienation.” But even if they dont, when they hear it for the first time, it just sounds bad. There’s a damn good reason for this — it is bad. But you dont want to create an automatically confrontational relationship or exchange unless you have to. I’m not suggesting that you never use those words, just that you use them with care. If you think the teacher is acting in good faith but might be making some mistakes in how she handles or acknowledges your child’s relationship with you, then you may want to focus on the behavior and not the phrase. If any bad situations continue, especially after you’ve specifically addressed them, then it may become valuable to introduce the term, so that the teacher fully understands how serious you are, and how serious the situation is.
2. Be specific. Yes, your child’s teacher is supposed to be (and probably is) a highly trained and intelligent individual, and it’s completely reasonable for you to expect him or her to be able to keep track of which kids in the class have any kind of unique home situation — be it a shared custody arrangement, being raised by grandparents or other non-parent relatives, or one involving a sibling or parent with an illness or other severe affliction. However, making valid but vague complaints about something he or she might be doing at some point in the course of a busy school day, over a period of several weeks or months, can actually make the problem worse, either because the teacher may be unlikely or unwilling to believe you, not being able to refer to something tangible that can be remembered and put in context, or because there isnt an “action item” against which to judge or compare future behavior. You need to be able to say, “this is what I see,” and “this is what I’d like to see.”
3. Pay attention. This may seem obvious. Of course you pay attention to your kids and their school. To do less would be bad parenting, and you’re not reading this blog because you’re a bad father. But the school day is long and complex. Consider a day at work for you, and the sheer quantity of relationships and projects or tasks you encounter on a given day. In one day alone, you may have a conversation with your boss, ten conversations with your co-workers, or more, and you may cross off a half-dozen or more tasks from your to-do list. Or you may have to deal with a hundred customers, or put together a thousand widgets, or clean dozens of floors and windows. Whatever you do during the course of your workday probably pales in comparison to what your child does at school. Personally, I sit at a desk, work on electronic files and reports, talk to a small group of coworkers about various projects, and have two or three meetings to attend. On the other hand, my oldest son has a half-dozen ’subjects’ during each day, covering math, reading, science, art, music, gym, computers, etc. Add to that time for two recesses, a lunch period, and free time, and you have a pretty full day for a pretty small kid. And during each of those activities, a teacher is present, providing support, answers, guidance or just a leadership role in the community of the classroom. And we all know how tough it can be for a young child to talk about anything that happens at school, much less everything. So we can make a conscious attempt to learn about what our kids are experiencing at school in a number of different ways, and it’s going to benefit everyone, and it will help us provide the teachers with important feedback. One trick I learned from Parent Hacks is to turn the practice of telling each other about our days into a game — we go around the table taking turns telling each other about 3 Things We Did Today. The trick is, one of the Things is pretend. So me, my wife, and the boys will try to trick each other by making up something that could have happened, but didnt. This encourages them (and us) to think about what we did or what made us laugh today, or what we saw today, etc. The possibilities are endless, and before we know it, we’re learning more about what our kids experience each day. Another way to get kids to talk about school is to expand on what we talk about with them when we go over their homework. Instead of just talking about the questions or problems they answered in their homework, ask them about what else the class did that day to learn those concepts, or, if part of the schoolwork they brought home included open-ended questions, ask them about what some of the other kids had as their answers. Even asking our kids if they enjoyed recess today can spur them to remember something they’d like to share. And keep in mind — we’re not doing this in order to cull secret information about how their teachers are treating them, we’re doing this to learn about their experiences and how they see school from their own eyes, and it is that peek into their lives which can give us clues about their development, which can include their experiences with teachers as well as fellow classmates, all of which are important details that we benefit from learning, and the kids benefit from sharing. And by making these exchanges become part of our routine with our children, it can help provide insight into possible problems that they might be having, in any shape or form, including the topic at hand.
4. Be positive. Maintaining a positive outlook in many areas of our lives can be compromised by a problematic relationship with our children’s other parent or a complicated and adversarial custody situation. Nevertheless, it bears repeating that our children benefit from smiles more than from frowns, no matter what the situation is or how serious it can become. If we remember to approach possibly harmful situations with a positive attitude, remembering to focus on solutions instead of problems, and keeping in mind that others will treat our emergencies more productively in a collaborative and forward-thinking environment, we can have a good deal of influence on some of the people who might be inadvertently making mistakes in how they teach our children. Further, this approach can provide an automatic “out” for the teacher who, once approached, immediately sees the problem as real and important, and who wants to do a better job, or at least do right by their students, but who might otherwise feel attacked. This is especially important, again, if we are introducing the problem for the first time. Remember that there was a time when we didnt know what Parental Alienation was, even though we might have known divorced parents or children of divorced parents. And, even if just once, if we give the teacher the benefit of the doubt, we are setting them up to provide better classroom surroundings for our kids.
5. Be strong. Ah, yeah – we’re dads, so we’re always strong, right? Thats what people think, but it’s not always the case. Do not, under any circumstances, allow your self-doubt about your value as a parent to prevent you from standing your ground and standing up for what you know to be right, especially in this case, when it has to do with your children. Your instincts are just as valuable as mommy’s instincts, and if you notice behavior in your child’s teacher that requires feedback and correcting, point it out. Use as part of your confidence this list — it pays to be careful, and specific, and attentive, and positive, but most of all, it pays to be strong and to stick to your guns. Some may disagree (I dont), but Parental Alienation can, in many cases, turn into an irreversible problem, and the things that your child’s first-grade teacher instills in your child may have ramifications five, ten years from now. At the same time, as a parent who has chosen to be involved and investing in your child’s life, you are in a unique position to make sure that your child grows up with both parents — a critical factor in their growth and development into adulthood. You owe it to your child to be on the lookout for potentially dangerous situations, be they traffic accidents or harmful propaganda. By protecting them from Parental Alienation, you are not only affirming your role in their lives, but also the role of the other parent, and this is, therefore, despite the sometimes sneers you might get, a superbly heroic endeavor. You should congratulate yourself for being such a great parent, in fact, that you are insisting on remaining in their lives. Dont let the mistakes or assumptions of others get in the way of your parenting.
Some people claim that Parental Alienation isnt as bad as it seems, or isnt permanent, or isnt something that can be controlled. But I’ve found that those people who feel that way are usually invested in that belief to some degree, which doesnt make it true, and in fact gives them a bad reason for doubting it in the first place. These people include the parent doing the alienating, the court system, which benefits from an imbalance in custody orders, and anyone else who wants to insist that the children grow up in an environment that isnt the best for them, like grandparents who dont like the fact that their grandkids arent always at mommy’s house every single weekend.
But most of us have seen Parental Alienation up close and personal, and we dont have to accept it just because it’s difficult to deal with. Our child’s school is, as I said, a huge part of their lives, and by focusing on every aspect of it, including teacher influence, we are doing right by our kids, and we can always take comfort in doing right by our kids.
What are the Best Children’s Books of All Time?
The list includes picture and chapter books, works of fantasy and verse. At the top is The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. Between that and Number 20, Peter Pan, you’ll find Winnie the Pooh, The Cat in the Hat, and The Wind in the Willows.
It’s a great list to keep handy. Of the 20, we own only six. Both Seven and Four enjoy reading on their own and being read to, and we are more than happy to both oblige and encourage their interest in literature. If I had to make, say, a half dozen suggestions for the list, I’d include:
- Where the Wild Things Are
- Sylvester and the Magic Pebble
- Pinocchio
- The Adventures of Huck Finn
- Mike Mulligan and His Steamshovel
- and, finally, the complete collection of age-appropriate works by the brilliant and timeless Shel Silverstein. Take your pick from The Giving Tree, Uncle Shelby’s ABZ Book, or one of his books of verse, like Where The Sidewalk Ends.
A recent Newsvine article, and its subsequent conversation, by LucidCommunication, called “America’s Literary Apathy,” explored the unfortunate trend of American children becoming less and less interested in reading. It doesnt matter if we’re talking about fiction, journalism, history or poetry — our children are slipping away from the written word. Lucid, a talented writer himself, clearly summarizes the issue, how to approach it, and how profound its effect on society might be,
The solution to the problem begins with awareness ourselves. Read a book this month. Start with one. Re-discover the genre you enjoy, and read it. Encourage your children to read. Make it enjoyable. Force it to take priority over screen time. We’ve created a difficult battle for ourselves, but it is not insurmountable. At least not yet. It will be soon, however, if we don’t begin to reverse the tide of disinterest in the written word.
I saw a recent post on BoingBoing describing how to make a little book pocket for the side of a bed. A few months ago, as a reward for a great progress report at school, we bought for Seven a lamp that clips on the headboard of his bed so he can read at night. And, even more exciting for parents like my partner and I, Seven has taken to journaling at night, as well.
The boys sleep in a bunkbed — Seven on top and Four underneath. The book pocket idea is going to make a nice gift in the near future — it has that attraction of being unique and clever, like a detail in a Seuss drawing, which kids find appealing, and its functional purpose seems a good way to continue to encourage reading by building it, literally, into their home. Sure, they receive books for Christmas and birthdays, and reading is a regular event here. But by providing these little “extras,” we are helping create for them a fun environment that happens to include literature, in all its forms. The pocket and the lamp, though designed for reading and writing, do not demand a certain genre or theme or even a certain medium. They are both merely accessories for the active reader, who will put them to use in their own way.
Embracing literature sounds dull and pointless — embracing literature for what, exactly? The answer cant be self-contained; it must transcend literature itself. One of the most important reasons that I am a divorced father is that I embrace literature, and: why? to what end? To live a life of artistic integrity. I ended up settling in marriage because I was choosing to neglect my instincts to surround myself with reading and writing. So it’s natural, I think, for us to provide, without pressure, an environment which includes the possibility of ranking literature high on the list of interests.
And this is more than just providing a hobby for the kids. We need a literate society. The most influential ideas throughout history have been communicated and distributed via the written word. As we see the evolution of media in the internet, despite the clutter, it is still the written word out there defining ideas and bringing people together.
Being a divorced dad gives us the opportunity to focus on some of these child-rearing plans by making them distinct from the “other” house. I look at it as a chance to make those things I so strongly value stand out from the background. Surely the boys, like most children of divorced parents, have more than they need in terms of environmental stimulation. As such, I feel it is deeply important to define this environment in a distinct way — in a consistent and visible way. I dont intend to force onto our children a career or lifestyle choice, but I intend to express to them how important reading is to us, and how valuable it can be for them.
At the very least, they will develop a consciousness of the written word. They may not end up writing novels or owning a bookstore, but they are growing up with the distinct knowledge that reading is vital and that the tools of reading — lamps, accessories, bookmarks and journals — can fall into the “fun” category that includes toys, homemade forts and DIY Batman outfits.
Hi and greetings and welcome one and all to Daddy’s Time blog.
This isnt meant to be another retread of another blog by another father. This is a blog about being a father in a shared-custody arrangement. Our challenges are unique and interesting, and I hope to write about those challenges in a way which both informs and assists most humbly all the other fathers out there who are dealing with similar situations. And I think that what we discuss here at Daddy’s Time blog will be of interest to parents everywhere.
As we know, western society is not particularly supportive of the paternal role of men in families. We hear lots about how the paternal role of men throughout history has adversely affected politics and society, but when it comes to parenting, fathers are often left to fend for themselves and are rarely acknowledged in most serious discussions about parenting in general.
I hope to change that, even in some small way. While we may be under-appreciated, we’re certainly not useless. The role a father plays in a child’s life, from birth to adulthood and beyond, is one of the most critical relationships in a person’s life, for both the father and the child. We’re going to celebrate that relationship here, and we’re going to focus on it from a real-time point of view.
I am the father of two young boys who are just now getting to school age. As we progress, we’ll all learn more about one another. The boys’ mother and I have been separated/divorced for nearly five years. While it was anything but easy, my new family and I have managed to gain a decent amount of Daddy’s Time. We’re not done yet, but, when it comes to this blog, we’re just getting started.
So grab a chair, grab a feed or just bookmark the site. We’re in this for a lifetime, after all.
