Web Toolbar by Wibiya



I don't know if I should title this entry as such, it's a bit strong, but it is true. Today my 12 y.o. son betrayed me...big time. At first I was disappointed, then I actually felt tears coming, then I felt stupid and then the testosterone kicked in and I got angry...very angry. I dealt with the him the way I would an adult, the way I should have with someone who formerly held the moniker of "my best friend." The whole blowup caused my son to cry.

Because I am not alone, my wife weighed in, not disagreeing with my feelings, but with the way I handled the situation, my son and myself. In true man fashion, I let loose on her as well and within minutes I became snarling and sniveling and no one was speaking to me. I went from victim to villain in under 2 seconds.

It is said that a family is a blessing upon a man's life. As of late, I've questioned that notion (biblical suggestion) often. Years ago, I had this picture perfect plan of how I was going to assemble my family. Of course that didn't happen, even though I never set out to actually accomplish it in that way. I know there's no manual on this stuff for anyone, but I feel completely in over my head sometimes. My parents seemed to have done such a better job with me even though this often required them knocking me upside my head to keep me in line (I had a mouth on me). They had less, but I feel like they did more.

The weight is so heavy sometimes, this husband-dad thing. My feelings as of late are the few things I can call mine and like today, I've been letting them all hang out --- good, bad and straight up nasty.

I want to be everything to my kids, and I'd like to be a good husband, but honestly it weighs a lot, sometimes too much. But not enough to break me. I'm going to go to the park to play basketball with my son now and at some point I'll tell him that I love him. They say love is the answer even so few of us know what love really means. Hopefully love will make up for the shortcomings --- real, imagined or otherwise.

blog comments powered by Disqus