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New School Year

Our boys have just started another school year — Calfgrit12 is starting 7th grade, and Calfgrit8 is starting 3rd grade. Calfgrit12 is nervous, Calfgrit8 is excited — and that’s how they are every year.

Every year on the first day of school, we take photos of our boys ready to take on their classes.

First Day of School 2013

First Day of School 2012

First Day of School 2011

First Day of School 2010

Oh my God, these boys are my everything. I do love them so much. They drive me absolutely bonkers at times, but I look at these pictures and all the craziness is forgotten, only the happy-fun experiences come to mind.

I like these backyard, cell phone photos more than the professional, official photos they take at school. These are my real kids, the school pictures look fake.

Bullgrit

 

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Father’s Day

Regular readers have probably noticed I haven’t been posting nearly as often as I used to. And when I have posted recently, it has usually been something short — sometimes just a picture. This slacking on my web site is partly because of new complications in our life, (like my mother-in-law having surgeries), and partly because I’ve wanted to spend more time with my family in general. My family is very important to me.

My boys, my sons, are my first duty in life. When I agreed to bring children into our life, I made a solemn promise that they would take precedence over all else. There was no official swearing in, or oath to recite. There was no sign or marker to show exactly when and where “things changed.” I can’t even point to a birth date on a calendar to identify where my responsibilities shifted from just the two of us to this little one or these little ones. I think the change actually happened before the first birth. Things just kind of “became.”

It seems that one day, you and the wife are out on a quiet, peaceful dinner, then the next day you’re walking out of the hospital holding a bundled, tiny, new life in your arms. A new life that completely, totally relies on you for absolutely everything. Regarding raising children, my family and friends have heard me make this observation a few times: the years go by so fast, but the days are so long.

Kids can try your patience every day, all day. Every hour, every minute. But it seems like every time your blink, they reach a new stage in their life. After bringing them home from the hospital, the next thing you know is they’re walking, talking, going to school. They advance in grades. They join a soccer team, start playing an instrument. They stop holding your hand, they start having interesting conversations. They graduate. They move off on their own. And slowly, over all that time, stop relying on you for absolutely everything.

I’m not to that point with my boys. They still rely on us for everything. They have other people in their world now, new and close friends, but we, their mother and father, are still the base and foundation of their world. The unspoken promise we made sometime before or after they were born is still sacred and strong. I would give up anything and everything for the well being of my children. I’d give up my own life and happiness to protect and ensure their well being. The sacrifices that parents make for their children are more than just sleep and money, time and sanity. It’s impossible to describe or enumerate what a parent gives and gives up for their children, (like it’s impossible to describe “love”), but it’s no less real and tangible to the parents and to the children.

On this Father’s Day, tell your parents — both father and mother, and other — that you appreciate all they’ve done for you. I’ve lost both my fathers, but I still have my mother, and I hope she knows I now understand what she has done for me and my brother. I understand the love and care and sacrifices and gifts she has given for her children.

My boys mean the world to me. Being their father is the greatest gift, the greatest responsibility, the greatest love, the greatest sacrifice, the greatest adventure I have ever undertaken.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The above photo is from the first day of school last June — 2nd grade and 6th grade. They’re tracked out, (year-round schedule), right now, so we’ll get a new pic for this year in a couple of weeks.

Wifegrit called me at my office Friday to ask me to run an errand on my way home from work.

“I’ve been so busy with the boys tracked out the past couple of weeks,” she said, “that I haven’t been able to get to the store over there.”

“What do you need me to do?” I asked.

“I need you to pick up your Father’s Day gift.”

We both burst out laughing.

“Seriously?” I said.

“Yeah,” she answered, sheepishly. “I’ve researched it, and the only place it’s in stock is over there. I just can’t get out that way. And since I work this weekend, I won’t have a chance before Sunday.” [She is a maternity nurse every other weekend.]

She told me what the gift was — something I’d been talking about wanting for several days, ever since she mentioned seeing one on Pinterest.

“OK,” I said, “I’ll get it.” And I did.

When I got home afterward, she was out on the front porch when I drove into the driveway. I stopped in the driveway, rolled down my window, and casually dangled the bag out the window while looking off the other way at something. She hustled up to me, quickly snatched the bag and ran inside with it. Then I pulled on into the garage. I’m looking forward to the gift. Maybe I’ll post a review of it later.

Bullgrit

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Socks Everywhere

Calfgrit8 leaves his socks everywhere around the house. When he comes in from school or playing, he whips his socks off and drops them where ever he happens to be at that moment. Then when it’s time to go outside again, he runs upstairs to get another pair of socks. By the end of the day, there have been as many as half a dozen extra socks lying about the downstairs area.

Socks Everywhere

 

We usually make him go back downstairs and round them all up himself, but sometimes Wifegrit and/or I will collect them and put them at the bottom of the stairs for him to take up when he goes up for his bath at the end of the day. And every single time, he will run up the stairs, often stepping on the socks, without picking them up. And then we have to tell him to go back down again and pick them up. He sighs and whines about having to go back down and then come back up.

That picture above — that’s one day of socks for him. Some of them might have been worn for only an hour before being removed and dropped. I found them scattered about after bedtime, so I just tossed them all together on the bench. I don’t know how he doesn’t run out of socks every couple of days. There must be a few dozen socks in his drawer — fortunately for him, with small feet he can have that many stuffed into one drawer.

Bullgrit

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I’m Just Not Doing What You Said To Do

I am really so tired of hearing, “I’m just ….”

“Son, let’s close the book at the dinner table.”
— “But I’m just looking at the pictures.”

“Don’t run in the parking lot.”
— “But I’m just going to the van.”

“I asked you to log off World of Warcraft.”
— “But I’m just checking my quests.”

“Close the door behind you when you come in.”
— “But I’m just getting a cup of water.”

“Give the DS back to your brother.”
— “But I’m just checking his saved game.”

“Don’t wear your shoes upstairs.”
— “But I’m just going to my room to get a NERF gun.”

“Swallow what you have in your mouth before talking.”
— “But I’m just telling Mom what I want for dessert.”

Aaaargh! I know what you’re “just” doing! What you’re “just” doing doesn’t change the situation. That you’re “just” doing X doesn’t negate what I told you to do or not do.

I SWEAR! It drives me nuts. Kids seem to think that if they’re “just” doing something, (rather than, I don’t know, “really” doing something?), they can ignore rules or instructions.

If the rule is that no one wears shoes upstairs, they seem to think that only applies if they are going to stay upstairs for the rest of the day. Or if they’re supposed to log off their game, they don’t have to if they’re not actively in a monster battle or something “real”.

How can a parent teach kids that “just” doing something doesn’t magically make rules and instructions inapplicable?

Bullgrit

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