Big Thighs and Curly Hair

(November 21, 2013) I just finished combing through my emails and came across a Holiday Greeting video that was sent out from my daughters school. It was a video of students and faculty passing a basket of food to one another and carrying it from location to location while staff and students expressed statements of personal gratitude. The video was well produced and edited to capture the beauty of the campus on a perfect autumn day.  I watched the video move from hand to hand listening to the statements of gratitude most of which were  the typical thankful form my family, for the students, for my friends, to play sports, you get the idea. The music that accompanied the video was familiar and kept my interest. But suddenly midway through the video I noticed that the basket was passed to my daughter. I was slightly taken aback but equally proud to see her. She was on the patio of Bettye’s Place, an on campus store. I was fixated on her and smiled broadly waiting to hear what she was thankful for. Would she be thankful for her parents, her school, or her family? As she reached for the basket with both hands she turned to the camera smiled broadly and said, “I am grateful for my big thighs and curly hair!” My immediate response was a giant burst of laughter. It was a perfect response. I rewound the video over and over smiling each time. “…big thighs and curly hair…” I smiled so wide my heart cheeks ached.

There's a Flag on the Play

(October 19, 2013) Boundaries are necessary, I get that. Knowing how far to go keeps us in the lane we’re supposed to be in. But what happens when the boundaries become smaller, when what formerly seemed normal is now considered the abnormal. We find ourselves changing our behavior and making adjustments trying to find our place.

In the firsts month of school my wife and I decided that it would be best to allow our daughter to stay on campus full time which to us means over the weekends. It has proven to be a very wise and successful move on all fronts and the transition had made all of our lives easier. Now our child comes home when she wants to be with us and trust me, we love it that way.

It Get's Better - I Promise

(September 23, 2013)Yesterday while sitting in the car of the school parking lot waiting for my wife to come down from our daughter’s dorm room, I saw friend walking solemnly toward her vehicle that was parked next to mine. She didn’t notice me but I watched her closely, her body language signaling to leave her alone. She sat in her car still and pensive and tired, but not physically tired, it was as though she was waiting for what she was thinking about to be over. I knew the look and feeling all too well. It was easy to identify. I allowed her to finish her thoughts before I rolled down my window. I stared in her direction hoping that she would see me in her peripheral vision. I didn’t want to be too intrusive, a characteristic my wife says I should exercise in moderation especially in her presence.  After several minutes and the intensity of the cramp in my neck from staring, I couldn’t help myself. “It gets better”, my voiced muffled through the closed window of her car.  Finally she looked my way smiled and rolled down her window. “It gets better”, I repeated. “Is it that obvious”, she replied.

Round Two

This past summer has been a season of change and new perspective. Slowing down is the familial theme. Life moves fast. I believe we contribute to the movement of our lives. We want to fill up each space with something meaningful to prove we have a purpose, that our existence matters. I guess that’s why I see so many “selfies” on Facebook. “Look at me I matter the pictures seem to scream. Well you do, we all count.

First Round - Knock Out

There is a constant struggle for independence brewing in our daughter which conflicts with our need to keep her forever young. The child you've reared and influenced suddenly appears before you in unfamiliar clothes listening to headache pounding music and fiercely ready to live in the scary world you tried to protect her from. It appears that everything you fought for and against stands before you in full contradiction making a mockery of the years it took to create a seemingly perfect child. You've done everything right, and remained true to your traditions and ideology. You incidentally taught her lesson on how to share, which for an only child seemed like a contradiction of sorts, taught her to pray, be kind to others, to be punctual, love music, sports and to freely move in the direction the universe instructs.  You have carefully guided her steps providing sage advice along the way. Gone are the days when no matter what you suggested their response was always a resounding yes. Waffles for dinner– extra syrup please!

Manage Your Children

Last fall I read an online article in the Huffington Post about a father from London who wrote an eight paragraph email to his three children. In his email he thought about his parenting style and took responsibility for his children’s failures albeit he provided them with a stable home and a proper education. He went on to say that by sitting on the sidelines and adopting a  “fashionable philosophy of not interfering, letting our children find themselves” may have led to the choices that now plague their lives and label them, at least in their father’s view, as failures. 

She Really Likes Him

George is the one that has stolen my daughter’s heart. His imperfections are what appeals to her and she embraces any and every opportunity to be around him for as long as she can. Her trips home are measured by how soon she will return to her adoring George.  Ironically, he is not exclusive but that does not seem to bother her. He is not callous in his ways, but provides her with precisely what she needs.  She is in the first year of their courtship and although I clearly see an end, forever seems possible from her innocent rose-colored view. The introduction was made by my wife and me and the moment she met him she knew instantly and instinctively that they would be together. My hands are tied as I watch their union grow stronger. Let go and let God. Let go and let God. George is the one that has stolen my daughter’s heart.

Wait.....What?

Two weeks ago my wife decided that we should attend the annual parent party at our daughter’s boarding school. Not only did she feel that our attendance was required, she believed that we needed to be of service and liberally placed our names on the clean-up committee.  By the time I learned of the party and my obligatory commitment there was no room for negotiations, I was going. 

Once we pulled up to the valet parking and had our coats checked in we made our way inside and immediately saw our friend Gail waving us over to bistro table where she sat with her partner. The party was held in the garage of a luxury car dealership owned by parents of a student.  The garage decor was faux outdoor fresco setting complete with stucco walls balconies overlooking the cobblestone floor. Ten foot workable lampposts and sconces perfectly place on the pseudo sidewalk where red and white striped awnings hung over makeshift offices and storefronts.  I failed miserably at not gawking at painted ceiling and décor stretching my so far back I was lightheaded.  The high ceiling provided an excellent acoustics for the live jazz band as bobbed heads and tapping feet were seen from corner to corner. 

There were no expectations for the party, we are opened minded people who are ready for anything and fully accept everyone for who they are and what they believe. We pride ourselves in the diversity of our friendships and how organically they are created and developed. We read everything from Franz Kafaka to John Girsham.  But all that goes out of the window when the uncomfortable truth of a fear is realized. While having a great glass of red wine and nibbling on a gourmet grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup, a parent plainly asked, “So what do you think about all the sex and drugs that’s going on at school?”

Quince Speech

Today is the day that signifies your transition into becoming a young lady.  Crossing the threshold of childhood and entering into womanhood. Well I say, hogwash - stay young, be everything that it means to be fifteen years old there is no rush, have fun, make mistakes and learn and grow from them, discover new talents and meet interesting people along your way. Try things you’ve never tried before and Look to the example of your mother to carry the lessons she taught you about sharing, about helping others, about being authentic and having integrity in all that you do -  stay young, enjoy each day and live in each moment while collecting memories for a lifetime.

Life Jacket Not Necessary

It has been some time since I posted an update on how our daughter is doing in boarding school. Frankly, she is doing fantastic. She enjoys every aspect of boarding school, the independence, the academics, the diversity and the growth of things yet to come. She sees a future in her life and understands already that this is the first step to achieving her goals. I know, I know, she’s only fourteen; there is no possible way that she can know all these things so early on in her freshman year of high school. But I beg to differ. She does not voice her new knowledge but her actions tell me she understands what it takes to be successful. And in this case actions speak louder than words.

We recently completed our parent teacher conferences, and before I divulge our experience I should preface this by stating that our daughter had four nominations to the head of school and made the honor roll. Now that that’s out of the way, the reports of our daughters progress was mostly positive. The beginning of the semester was a slow crawl to her usual studious self, especially coming from two and half weeks of Christmas break so I  can reasonably understand her lack of focus to return eagerly to her rigorous schedule of studying and sports. 

We were givend two hours to complete our conferences. We picked up our schedule at the Library where a tray of gourmet cookies sat tempting me to oblige but I declined.  We were provided a schedule and had fifteen minutes to reach  each building and meet with each teacher. Keeping their motto in mind, “if you are on time then your late”, we walked swiftly to our first meeting clear across the campus. We repeated this pattern for two hours each time reaching our destination with bated breath as we scurried from one building to the next.  Finally at our last session ahead of schedule I was pleased that we were able to sit for a few minutes before entering the classroom.  Once inside the classroom, things turned sour quickly. The teacher was disconnected as she spoke about our daughter. It was as though she was speaking of someone else, as though the person, our daughter, did not matter.  Her approach was aloof, her mind occupied and all she wanted to do was get out and do what was on her mind. She was absent in our presence.  She tried to convince us that most parents would rather hear negative comments about their child.  My wife could no longer take the berating comments and stood staring squarely at her, asking, what action she had taken to ensure our daughters continued success. My wife wanted to know if teaching is a partnership or is the child left to fend for themselves. Her vague response confirmed what my wife already knew and took me longer to realize. Our daughter had to fend for herself in this class and no rope or life jacket would be tossed until it was time to pull the body to shore.

Once I really stopped to look closer at what was happening I learned a few things, - one, our daughter is a strong young lady and her resilience goes beyond the capacity and the limits we as parents have placed on her. Two, responsibility means having the ability to complete the request with the criteria given in a timely manner. Lastly, parents often see what they want to see instead of what they need to see. Our daughter needs to assert herself in the classroom and make her needs known. She must take the next step into young adulthood and truly fend for herself. I know that we have acted as her life jacket in the past, and we will be ready to be tossed into the chaos of her life when required. But for now, she has to make her way, her mistakes and her choices so that the natural consequences that will inevitably follow, will force the change she wants to become.