Adapting to This Change

Alright everyone, I'm not gonna lie. My heart is being ripped out.

My son graduates on Sunday and will be going to the Marine Corps in July. Of all the things I am sure of, and of all the strength I have, I'm not sure how to handle this change and I had no idea how profoundly this event, which I've been preparing for throughout the last 18 years, would strike me to my core and break me down. Few things make me cry, but my eyes are welled up with tears while I write this.

I am proud of the man he has become, and of the things that he has, and he will, accomplish.

Now that our days together are numbered, I can't help but look back at all of the things that I wished I could have done. Little time, or little money, were usually the excuses. "We'll have time to do it tomorrow." Tomorrow has come and gone and now the tomorrow that we're facing will one day be the day we bring him to the recruiting station, say our farewells, and wait...

It is a grieving process similar to the loss of a loved one. 

It's a good thing that we only have one more child left at home, because my wife and I have discussed, and we don't know that we could handle this hurt, this heartache, over and over again. 

We also don't understand how parents can look forward to the day when their child(ren) move out.

It's not fair.

This child, who has had such a significant impact on our life, who has made me want to be a better version of myself for him, has given me the gift of being his father, is now leaving.

But, I am PROUD!

My wife and I raised him. Through all of our faults. Through all of our mistakes. Through all of those times where we wished we could do more. We raised him to be the amazing person that he is today.

And, despite our faults, ours mistakes, and our shortcomings, he loves us.

 

He is going after his dreams, just as we taught him to do. Just as he has learned from watching us.

 

I just wish it didn't hurt so damn bad.

But, I know you will change the world. Just like your mom always told you that you could do. Until then, we will carry on in your absence. We know that we would want you to carry on with the fulfillment of your dreams in our absence, so we will hold ourselves to that same standard.

I just wish it didn't hurt so damn bad.

Semper Fi, my son. You're going to be a great Marine.

It's Not Like I Haven't Tried

My daughter is growing up. She turned 6 just a few months ago. I don't feel 6 years older, but it is obvious that time has passed and she is growing up.

She was my little girl until she started liking Miley Cyrus. Well, to be fair, she like Hannah Montana - but you say tomato, I say tomato. Wow...that phrase just doesn't have the same effect when it's in the written word.

Anyhow, M graduated from watching Nick Jr. to The Disney Channel a short time ago. This was a rite of passage that she initiated on her own. It was so much easier when I could turn the T.V. on for an hour in the morning, enjoy some coffee, check some emails, and know that Nickelodeon would not air something I wouldn't want M to see. Disney, on the other hand, isn't always appropriate for a 6 year old.



 A father doesn't mind (so much) their daughters emulating the image on the left. The image on the right, however...well, not unless you've always dreamed of your daughter posing with ducklips and looking like a whore.

I don't want my daughter to be a whore.

My standard reply to most things is "Not until you're 16." My wife says that's what her parents always told her when she was younger. Makeup, certain clothing, dating...all waited until she was 16. Who are we kidding - no it didn't. She would wear baggy sweatshirts in August weather to cover the tiny tank top underneath. 

My wife and I have exchanged stories of the things we did when we were younger. Through this sharing of information we hope that we have an adequate amount of counter-intelligence which we can use against our children. We also have an intricate network of spies planted throughout the city whose sole duty is to observe and report.

It's soon to be 14 years that our son has been on this earth. If we didn't catch him in the act of misbehaving, we found out about it shortly after it happened. More than once we've heard "How did you know?!"

Because, my dear boy, as hard as it is to believe, we were once your age too. We've either already tried it, thought of it, or came up with a better version than you.

So, because of all of this, I have come to the conclusion that M is simply going to be locked in the basement until the age of 23. This should prevent many duck-lip, parent shaming pictures from being taken