Tag: family

It’s Good for Something

It’s 11 o’clock on a Tuesday night. I just got back from my last night of tennis league. I’m in the playroom with a Penguins vs. Rangers 2nd overtime playoff hockey game on in the background. This is me, it always has been. I want to be alone with my thoughts late at night. I want to write my mind then live tomorrow, then write my mind again. Stop resisting yourself and your truth. Truth gets harder as you get older. I don’t want to feel disappointed in myself so I put a positive spin on everything. I have bad thoughts but I put those in the minority. Like how lucky I am to have two healthy boys and a beautiful wife that I love and want to bang all the time. 

I don’t want to pretend things are perfect though. Even with the anti-depressants and the adderall, I know in my pit that I’m not doing enough shit to be better. I don’t Pisa myself (Italian version of “Lean In”) enough. I’ve always felt my best when I do things that scare me. Shit scares me because I know it’s what I need to do. Whether that’s writing every night, coaching my kids team, being a better disciplinarian, a better sexer, a harder worker, starting something I could fail at; it all scares me. And I know that doing that stuff is what would lead to actual success outside of the top 85% of society. But I’m afraid to risk it. What if I lost it all? What if I had to endure hardship? I’ve been male middle class and white my whole life and that shit is easy. Do I really want to have an impact or just hope my kids realize what a pussy I was and decide to become somebody in my honor?

I’m 44 years old. It’s about time I started accepting who I am. Maybe even embracing it? I’m decent. It can’t be a good idea to walk through life constantly thinking you could be doing better. Or is that what the bosses want? Do they want someone that doesn’t realize their worth, that they can take advantage of and make money off of, while they do whatever the fuck they want because they had the balls to start something?

And don’t get me started on charity and service. Most of my family has dedicated their lives to service oriented professions like nursing, social work, military, and teaching. Here I am selfishly consuming whatever the fuck I want while the world burns and my grandkids won’t exist. There’s so much more I could do to help. So knowing that, why the fuck do I sit down and do nothing for four hours a night? 

Time to repeat the mantra I just started telling the kids every morning:

I am important.
Today is going to be a good day.
The world needs me.
Today I choose happiness.
I believe in myself.
Today is a fresh start.
Today I will do my best.

I tried to repeat this to my wife as she got into her minivan to commute to work this morning. She wasn’t having it (monthly visitor approaches). It’s odd because I know that there is nothing I can do to make her happy during this time. I could do all the laundry, clean the house from top to bottom, munch her box for an hour and she’d still tell me I suck. 

I have it pretty good. I could be better, but soon I’ll need to accept the fact that I’m not. 

Truth Hurts

The whole family was a waste of space yesterday. The boys were on screens all day and I was in and out of consciousness watching Dickinson and NCAA basketball. We ordered DoorDash twice. Once for pancakes and pitas and another for sushi and dumplings. Like Petey says, another cycle of get fucked up and recover, I am regretful. I spent most of Friday evening drinking 5% ABV gluten free beer at a measured pace of one per hour. However, when my wife got home from a seven hour bar sesh with her besty at 10:30 I decided to turn it up a notch. Not to try to be on her level but because I felt like I was allowed since she was blacked out. So I stayed up until 1:30 drinking alone after tucking in my wife around midnight. By doing this I ensured a worthless Saturday. We did force the kids to take a twenty minute break to work on reading and site words, but after that it was right back to watching people play video games on YT. The whole family was in bed by 9pm. 

Now It’s almost 7 on a Sunday morning. My 8 year old son is playing a battle simulation game on the other laptop and my 6 year old boy is watching YouTube in the family room. Today will be better. I will finish my job related work, then do our taxes, then pack, then watch hoops. That should be enough. 

I’ve always been consumed by honesty. I’m writing this blog because I want to speak my truth even when doing so makes me look like a scrub. I’m sick of a society that requires the constant presentation of your best self. This leads to lying. I see this all the time at work. You present the best narrative of what success looks like for your company in order to spur investment and a rise in the stock price. It’s not a total lie because you believe that if given the investment you will turn your future narrative into truth. That ethos then filters down to all levels of the company. You want to present a narrative to your boss that fits with the narrative to investors. You ignore the red flags and create a success story out of a fluke. Eventually the house of cards will fall if the foundation isn’t solid. If you’re not focused on building products that the customer wants and earning their trust by working cooperatively with them then you won’t succeed. I’ve voiced my strategy to the boss but it wasn’t well received. Instead of battling him I try to make it work within my purview, but I know that the company as a whole can’t survive unless we make some of these difficult changes. However, if I press continuously I think I’ll get fired. I’ve got a prime spot at the end of the cul-de-sac and if I lose this job I risk not being able to hook the family up with all the niceties we’ve come to expect. I crave a company that values truth and honesty. Currently it seems like we’re always trying to dupe everyone. I’m shitty at duping. So I’ll look for a new job that likely won’t pay as much as I make now. I’ll try to find a company that shares my idealism. Capitalism with a conscience. It’s out there somewhere.  

Watley Sampras

It’s 6:26 AM on a hump day. I’ve had my banana, vitamin e, adderall and i’m ready to rock. I’ve got my blanky on my legs and my coffee by my side. J is in the dining room playing some military tycoon on Roblox, H is downstairs watching morons play YouTube, all is right with the world. I took J to the dentist yesterday to get his first two of six cavities filled. He was all brave talk on the way, talking about how H could never handle what he’s about to conquer. Hygienist told him to lift his left arm up if it hurt. My man was popping that arm up as soon as the doc introduced the air hose. They said only about 10% of kids get the novocaine because the shot is more scary than the drill. We decided to go for the novocaine and got a couple droplets of it into the target area before meltdown city. I spoke privately with the dentist and said I’d pay whatever extra charges were necessary to cover the laughing gas. After a half-hour pep talk we got him back in the chair with the nose hose. He kept pulling it off and demanding to see the novocaine needle before he would move forward with the process. Doc showed him and he was like ‘damn, that’s a big ass needle’. Doc was amazed at J’s lung capacity because it took a lot of gas to give him the giggles. Even when he was laughing it was a half cry. In the end J couldn’t go through with it and we took a referral for a pediatric dentist to fill all six at once at a later date. He was all set to earn some extra Robux and a Menchie’s ice cream, but instead I labeled him a wimp and he told me he hates his life. This morning I gave him a pep talk and told him he’d conquer his fears next time and the important thing is to keep on trying. It’s a good lesson for me as well. Keep getting up and giving it another shot. Keep believing in yourself and a better future. Don’t give up, don’t sulk. Nice work Tony Robbins. 

After the dentist I grabbed H from aftercare and headed toward swim lessons. We had just enough time to hit the McDonald’s drive-thru and meet mommy in the parking lot so I could swap the kids for my tennis racquet and get to league night by 7. Nothing like a large coke and two double cheeseburgers to ensure peak performance. I got a bit heated with the drive-thru lady and swore in the car with the boys because I asked for the kids’ nugget dipping sauce and she insisted the sauces were in the bag. I’m like, “I’m looking in the bag right now and there are no dipping sauces in here”. Skimpflation is a bitch. Tennis league was a couple people short so I would need to play singles for the full two hours. I was worried about the calf I’d tweaked in Vegas, but committed myself to extra stretching and limited running around the court like Jimmy Connors. We were tied 8-8 in our pro-set to ten when I went for an overhead and my left calf stopped working. I should’ve retired right then but I played it out so my Indian counterpart could have his victory. I limped to the car at 8:45. I can definitely beat that guy if full strength. Although he said his serve was weak because of a rotator cuff issue so who knows which old man would’ve prevailed provided no ailments. He came to Detroit from India in the eight grade with three brothers, a sister and his parents. I thought moving from Boston to Michigan in 3rd grade was tough. How about being an Indian kid entering Detroit public schools for the first time in eighth grade? There’s always somebody who’s had it tougher than you. By most accounts my path has been easy. I’m a privileged white boy with limited grit who’s made his way to the burbs pretty easily. Primarily because there are so many people just like me. It’s easier to win people over when they look like you and quote the same movies. I have the luxury of getting pissed at myself for not following my ‘true path’. Many have to constantly claw and know the law. These are the ones that should win in a fair system.

I ended the night with my wife, my vape pen, and one gluten free beer. I didn’t put the laundry away during the day so I was in the doghouse. I’m not sweating it, I do plenty of shit around here. Dickinson is a good show. Time to get the kids ready for school. 

Lord Huron Canada

It’s Sunday night, I’m tired, and I don’t feel like writing. However, writing has been on my mind for a week and I keep pushing it off. It’s time to find the time so I can quit getting mad at myself for not doing what my mind tells me to. I want to write about our 4th of July trip to Canada.

The Chrysler Pacifica rolled out of the driveway just before 7am on the 4th. Destination = Tobermory, Ontario. J took his travel medicine (aka: Dramamine) even though it tends to make him a total dick. We’ve had to clean up so much hurl on these long car rides that I’ll take the Jekyll version of my son over the stanky puke encrusted version. Since this trip I’ve invested in motion sickness wristbands and ginger root chewables. We will see how those work on our drive to upstate NY in a couple weeks.

The drive went well. No trouble at the border and only a couple quick pee stops. If you cross over at Port Huron and hug the Canadian coast of Lake Huron headed north, you’ll run out of real estate when you hit Tobermory. We were there for the glass bottom boat tour of the shipwrecks and a closer look at Flowerpot Island. The water was clear and the views were sweeping. The boys loved being able to look down and see the boats preserved in time under the water. They also offer snorkeling and scuba diving for a closer look, something to think about when the boys get bigger. After looking at the shipwrecks the boat took us on a fifteen minute ride to Flowerpot Island. Both boys fell asleep on the ride over. It looked like a great place to explore, it’s part of the Fathom Five National Marine Park. Most people got off the boat to do some hiking, but the boys are still too small for much distance. So we stayed on the boat and got a few pics of the perimeter. The whole tour was about an hour. Our motel was right across the street from the boat launch.

After checking in we went to a place called Coconut Joe’s for dinner. I forgot to mention we had lunch at a pirate themed fish n chips place called Shipwreck Lee’s. Despite popping a Xanax before dinner, it still ended up being stressful on account of terrible behavior from the boys. It took a while to get a seat and the waiting area was out by the docks / pier that borders the harbor town. H kept walking out near the water. Then when we got seated J kept throwing matchbox cars around the restaurant. They had a giant tortoise sculpture that they both kept trying to ride. They wouldn’t eat and they wouldn’t sit still, what else is new. End result was that mom canceled the boys ice cream privileges for the night. The six hour drive and the Dramamine for J had the boys all out of whack.

After dinner we went back to the motel and caught a beautiful sunset over the water. Then we spent an hour trying to get the boys to calm down. I think by the end of the night I had H hog tied and pinned to the bed to try to get him to chill out. As I reflect now it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but I know at the time Mom and I were really pulling our hair out.

We woke up on July 5th in Tobermory at the Bruce Motel. Then we loaded the boys in the stroller and headed in to town for breakfast at a coffee shop overlooking the town harbor. It would have been better if the boys would’ve sat down and not whined about their muffins. There was a small part of me that wished we hadn’t gone on vacation at all and just went to the lake at Mimi and Poppa’s. It would’ve been a lot easier, but we would’ve missed out on all the super awesome memories we were making. Gotta have the memories.

We left mid-morning and headed down the lake to Sauble Beach. Nice little beach and town. We spent about an hour and a half at the beach. Enough time to skip some stones, build a cool sand and stone fortress, pee in a porta potty and read 7 pages of my book (The Heart is a Lonely Hunter). We were all feeling really good. We got some pizza at a place by the beach and even got a nice family pic in front of the Sauble Beach sign.

After lunch we got back in the car and continued southbound. The boys fell asleep for a while and we cruised through a bunch of quaint little towns like Bayfield, Goderich, and Port Elgin on the way to our final destination of the Oakwood Resort in Grand Bend.

Flowerpot Island – Tobermory – Ontario – Canada

Pure Michigan

7/1/2019 – Monday

I’m sitting in the family room with no power. Luckily there is enough juice left on this laptop to get some words down. I just pitched for the work softball team in Southfield. We got smoked by my old company. I’m feeling a little pissed because J pulled the curtain rod holster out of the wall. It happened because he constantly stands on the curtain and yanks it. Even though I’ve told him that doing so would break the whole setup, he continued doing it and broke the whole goddamn setup. Now me or mom is going to have to fix it before we close on the house next week. That is an extremely shitty fix it job waiting to happen.

Time to put that out of my mind and reflect on the wonderful weekend that was. We got on the road a little after nine on Friday morning and headed across the state to Montague where we met wife’s cousins family for lunch. It was a quaint slice of Americana right across from Lake Michigan with deli sandwiches and ice cream. They had a beautiful backyard courtyard where everyone dined. There was a sand box, games, fountains, and a koi pond. The boys ran free which gave the adults time to catch up. After that we stocked up at the local market then headed to our weekend home on Lake Michigan in Whitehall.

We stayed in the top right section of a big house on Lake Michigan in the town of Whitehall, right by White Lake and Duck Lake. About an hour after we got there, the Rizzo’s arrived from St. Louis. They have a boy named Luke in the same grade as J and a girl named Marmy the same age as Harrison.

We started with a climb down to the water level from the bluff above. There was no beach because the water level is higher than it has ever been. The owner of the place, Buddy Pops, told us there used to be a good 40 yards of beach. Or maybe it was 40 ft. Not sure, but it meant that come Saturday we’d need to find another place to hang out since our plan to lounge on our private Lake Michigan beach was dashed. Friday night we ate at a place called “Buzz’s Roost” on White Lake. It was only a half mile from the house. They had a great outdoor seating area looking out at the lake and a guy/girl duo playing folky tunes. We gave the boys the iPad’s in an effort to ignore our parenting responsibilities for the two hours we were there. Then we came home to catch the sunset over Lake Michigan from our balcony. Looking down the beach you could see everyone had come out of their homes to watch the sun make its curtain call. Looking out across the seemingly endless expanse of water at the sun slowly dropping below the horizon is all the entertainment I needed. My mind was at ease. And it was great to be hanging with Stickler and Bracy. We used to hang out a lot in Chicago when we both lived there. We let the kids keep the iPad marathon going until 10:30 ish when we finally put them down to bed. Then the adults sat on the balcony until around midnight. The stars were brilliant and I saw a shooting star.

The next morning there was a little more beach on the big lake so we explored the coastline until we ran out of real estate. After that we went to Duck Lake State Park because we heard there was some beach there. Duck Lake is pretty small so the water was warmer. The beach wasn’t much but there were only a couple other people there so it felt like we had the place to ourselves. The kids got along great with Luke and Marmy. Well J and Luke got along great and H and Marmy seemed to coexist well. We had packed a lunch so we ended up spending the whole day at that beach listening to tunes and peeing in the water. I got a good workout throwing Luke and Marmy into the sky then down into the water.

We were supposed to cook brats at the house for dinner, but nobody felt like it so we ended up just going back to Buzz’s. It was hotter Saturday and we all got a little toastier than we would’ve if we were being more diligent about sunscreen application. After dinner we went back to the house and claimed the communal firepit. We made smores and watched another sunset. The boys stayed up way too late again.

Sunday morning after breakfast we went and played in the Lake Michigan surf for a bit before it was time to go pack up. You know it’s been a good trip when you feel a bit sad knowing the end is near. J was getting especially sad knowing that goodbye’s were coming. He really loved him some Luke. He said he wanted to marry him. They gave each other a nice hug goodbye and there were tears from both boys. I love seeing J build relationships and care for other people so much. He’s more like Mom in that regard. It’s a beautiful thing.

Now it’s getting late and I’m tired, but Sunday was also pretty sweet. We got lunch with my cousins family and my Aunt and Uncle. They live just a little up the road in Ludington. Their last name is Hart which is my mom’s maiden name. We met in the town of Hart at the Big Hart Brewery. Hart’s don’t eat free, but it was pretty tasty. J and H both pooped there so that was good timing before we started out 3 hour and change drive home. Before we drove home we made a detour to the Silver Lake sand dunes. Mom and I took turns climbing the dunes with J since H was asleep and really needed sleep. Something like 3 miles worth of big sand hills, it was beautiful. They have a bunch of off road vehicles you can ride in or drive around. Next time we come back we are definitely doing some fun sand dune activities. Great tease. Great trip.

About Them

J, you’re five and H, you’re three, so I guess whatever happened in your life to this point will remain a mystery. It should go without saying that I love you as much as I love anything in the world. The kind of love that when I think about it, it makes me cry, because it’s too much.

J, I would say you’re a bit more cautious than H. You’ve only been to the ER once and H has already been thrice. We took you when you had a virus and high fever when you were a baby. If it were up to me, you’d have zero ER trips but mom wanted to make sure you were okay. You’re the type of five year old that doesn’t mind doing his own thing. You don’t like taking orders. You’re good at getting other people to do what you want to do, you get that from Mom. You care deeply for the people in your life. Last week when we left Nana’s you cried because you were going to miss her. You tell me you’re sorry my Dad died and that you miss him. Tonight when mom had to leave for a business trip, four hugs goodbye wasn’t enough and you cried when she closed the door (After I pried you away from it). You’re really smart. You are good with numbers and really into maps. You say “I know that” a lot when I tell you something. I’m not sure if you really know or just don’t want anyone to think you don’t know. Mom and I are working on tougher discipline for you. If we say no treat, tv, or tablet, we’re trying to follow through. It’s hard, part of me wants to give you everything you want and the other part wants you to do as your told. Tough love with a heavy dose of love I guess.

H, you’re a snugglebuddy. You love to cuddle, kiss, and hug. You smile all the time. You make really funny faces. You do everything your big bro does. You’re a tough cookie, but you’ve had some accidents that have landed you in the ER 3 times. The first time you were around 1.5 and you got into the recycling and sliced your finger on the top of soup can. It was first thing in the morning and I was on the shitter. Mom rushed in with you and that index finger bleeding all over the place. That was a fine how do you do! I think you had to get around seven stitches for that one. It took four nurses and me to hold you down, plus enough drugs to knock down a seven year old before the doctor could get to sewing. The second time was a month ago. You, me, and J were playing Transformers on my bed and I fell back on you awkwardly. It knocked the wind out of you and you couldn’t catch your breath. I remember your face being frozen like you were trying to cry but no noise was coming out. Then as I hugged you and tried to comfort you, you went limp in my arms. I laid you down and the blood drained from your face. You had fainted, but I didn’t know what had happened so I yelled to Mom and she called 911. By the time the police, fire truck, and ambulance got here you were coming out of it. Mom had me take J out of the room because he was so scared, so I didn’t get to see you come to. I had never been more scared. We went to the ER to be safe and they confirmed it was a “vasovagal” response to not being able to catch your breath. Needless to say, Daddy is now done with all forms of horseplay. No more horsey rides, transformer fighting, or body slams. The third trip happened yesterday. We were in S.C. last weekend for Easter and you fell and skinned your knee while playing with the cousins. Nana cleaned it up and we didn’t think anything of it. At school this past Wednesday – Friday the teachers said you were complaining of your knee hurting. Your limp got worse and worse. Mom thought the bumps that were starting to form around your cut were a sign it was infected. She was right. I called the doctor on Saturday morning, and the doctor sent us to the ER to get it checked out. You had a 103 fever. Luckily the infection hadn’t spread to your joints. That would’ve meant we’d have had to stay at the hospital longer on an antibiotic IV. As it was, they gave you fluids and a little antibiotic in an IV and then sent you on your way. Now you’re taking oral antibiotics three times a day (Keflex). I should’ve watched the cut more closely and been more vigilant about keeping it clean. You can blame me for two out of your three ER trips. I don’t think you would though, you don’t seem like the type to hold grudges. You’re a fun-loving, laid back dude. You always want to help mom and dad with our chores.