Someday, Sometime, Somewhere

Someday, Sometime, Somewhere, my children will think back.

They will tell stories of their childhood and of the parents who raised them.

There will be joy, and tears, laughter and crying.

Someday, Sometime, Somewhere

Someday, Sometime, Somewhere, I will be old, sitting in a chair and thinking.

I will remember the days when my children were young, and so was I.

There will be stories of love, stories of frustration, and stories of triumph of the heart.

Someday, Sometime, Somewhere

Someday, Sometime, Somewhere, I will be gone, and no longer with this world.

I will have left behind those that I have held dear, and they will gather.

There will be sorrow, mourning, and a few last goodbyes.

Someday, Sometime, Somewhere

Someday, Sometime, Somewhere, people will be remembering me.

What will they say? What will listeners think? What did I leave behind?
Will they tell stories of greatness or nothingness? Love, or dislike?

Someday, Sometime, Somewhere

Someday, Sometime, Somewhere I hope my life has made an impact.

Perhaps someone will want to remember me as a dad, husband, or friend.

Perhaps my children will tell their children their grandpa was great, a family man.

Someday, Sometime, Somewhere

`

Wide Face City Clock by Erskine-rivera MErskine

Real Talk: Being a "Real Man" - Guest Post by @mochadad

Walking through my old neighborhood, I noticed one of my old friends, Vando, walking toward me.
“What’s up, man,” he said as we shook hands. A few years had passed since I had seen Vando, but his weathered face made it seem as if it were decades.
“Nothing much,” I replied. “What’s been up with you?”
“Same ole, same ole,” he said. “Just trying to survive.” I knew all about his means of survival. Petty theft, pimping, and drug trafficking kept his pockets full of cash.

While we reminisced, I learned the fates of some of the neighborhood boys we grew up with. The ones who weren’t dead or in jail were quickly on their way towards one or the other. Only a few of us managed to slip through the cracks.

Since we last saw each other, I had graduated from college, got married, had kids and moved to the burbs. Vando, on the other had lived in the same house and hung out on the same corners that we did as teenagers. As I gazed into Vando’s dark eyes, the world I worked so hard to forget became real to me again, and I began to see traces of my former self in Vando’s weary face.

Before meeting Vando, books were my escape, taking me to places that transcended the poverty, squalor, and despair that surrounded me. Through my books, I could be an astonaut, detective, or brave knight. But the life Vando introduced me to proved to be more alluring than my pristine fantasies. Our escapades were filled with excitement and danger. We mostly engaged in typical juvenille deliquent activities such as shoplifting, vandalizing, or fighting with other boys. But one day, things took a turn for the worse.

Vando and I were loitering on a corner when he noticed a girl walking by. His demeanor turned grim, his body grew tense. Suddenly, he broke a huge branch from a tree, ran to the girl and started beating her. Tears mixed with blood poured from her face as Vando pummelled her – each blow producing a sickening whap against her flesh.
Afraid Vando would kill the girl, I grabbed the branch causing Vando to glare at me with rabid eyes. I was frightened, but I held on refusing to allow him to beat that girl anymore.

“Let’s get outta here,” he said after several minutes. Vando dropped the branch and we ran to his house narrowly escaping some men who were chasing us.

Once we were safely inside, Vando told his grandmother, “If someone knocks on the door, don’t answer it.” The gentle woman nodded quietly and continued watching television as if she had experienced this situation before. Vando and I ran to his bedroom and crouched in the darkness without uttering a word. We sat for about twenty minutes before we were startled by police officers’ banging on the front door.

“Just chill out,” Vando said coolly. “Don’t say nothin’ and they’ll leave.”
After a few minutes, they did leave. When they were gone, I turned to Vando and asked, “What’s wrong with you man? Why’d you beat up that girl?”
“She lied on me. She got what she deserved.”

I wanted to tell Vando that no one deserved such brutal treatment; that he was a cold, heartless animal. However, I said nothing because I didn’t want Vando to think I was soft.
After that night I avoided Vando as much as possible. Whenever he asked me to hang out with him, I always gave him ane excuse. He eventually got the message and left me alone.

With Vando, I was able to tap into the raw masculinity that boys long for. But I was misguided as many young males are. I thought that Vando was teaching me how to to be a man. All he was teaching me was how to be a criminal. That’s why it is so important for fathers to be involved in their sons’ lives. As much as my mother tried to teach me how to be a man, her gender prevented her lessons from sticking. Sons need fathers.

I realize that my sons will most likely encounter Vandos in their lives.  It is up to me to provide them with an authentic version of manhood so they will not be enticed by this pale imitation. I must teach them to balance their need to be rough, rugged and raw, with the ability to be caring and respectful. My example will be their sword and shield in the battle for their hearts and minds.

I think I may be on the right track. The other night, my 5-year-old son, N, said, “My dad is the best man I know.” If he can still say this 20 years from now, then I know that I will have been successful in my role as a father.


--

Mocha Dad
http://www.mochadad.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/mochadad
CHECK OUT MY NEW BLOG: http://www.makingitlastforever.com

Q&A With Edgar - Being a SAHD

Today I continue the series of Q&A post with stay at home parents with Edgar aka @edathomedad. Edgar is a SAHD living with his wife and daughter Elle and two dogs. Ed is a member of the Band of SAHD who can be found every Sunday night at 11pm EST/8pm PST on Blog Talk radio.  Thank you Edgar for sharing with The DaddyYo Blog. And now, here he is, in his own words. 

1) Tell us a little about your family - I live wife my wife, daughter, and two dogs in Lancaster, PA. In July it will be seven years that we have been married. We meet ten years ago when we lived and worked in Washington, D.C.. My daughter is almost three and a half, I'm thirty-one and my wife is slightly younger than me. I'm Puerto Rican and my wife is a lovely Eastern European mix which should lead to some difficulty for our daughter once she has to fill out her own census form. 

2) How was the decision reached that you would be a SAHD? Once our daughter was born I was able to shift my schedule around so I was home with her during the day. I made a job change in June '08 that lasted until October '08 and thats when I became a full-time SAHD. While I was job hunting it made sense that we would take our daughter out of daycare. We were both happy to take her out of daycare. For the small stint she was in daycare we notice regression in her behavior and an increase in doctors visits. As parents my wife felt I had natural ability when it came to being the primary at home parent.  

3) Do you find it harder than you thought it would be?  The actual day to day care was something I could deal with. I think the hardest part was the mental aspect. It can get extremely lonely when you go all day without any adult conversation or contact. Once I reached the year mark I had a tough stretch when I realized what I thought was a temporary situation was becoming more permanent. Much of the feelings I was having were related to not being able to contribute financially to our family. I felt uncomfortable having all the pressure solely on my wife. Also teething, potty training, and toddler defiance were tough. The latter is still tough.

4) Have you ever wished the parental roles were reversed?  Simple answer, no. As parents we each have our sets of strengths. Mine seem to be suited for our current situation. 

5) People approach you and ask what you do, and you say you are a SAHD, what is there initial reaction?  I have had many odd encounters when I have told people I am a stay at home dad. I'll just run down a few. "Oh your daughter should have an interesting perspective on growing up.", "So, your kinda of like a mom.", "That's so progressive of you and your partner.", "Are you in between jobs?", "You must be doing a good job because you have a beautiful and smart daughter." Unfortunately I have run into more negative reactions than I have positive. 

6) What is the single greatest thing about being a SAHD?  Being able to see my daughter grow and develop before my eyes. I have also grown a tremendous amount not just as a SAHD but as a father and husband.

7) Why do you think more dads are choosing to be the at home parent?  I don't know if it so much of a choice in these times. I think there has been a large shift because of circumstances. The one's that have that choice available to them I believe have a easier transition than those that have shifted from employed to stay at home parent. In addition I believe there is a growing desire from fathers to be more involved in the child raising process. Partly based on many in our generation having a father figure the was absent or detached from the family dynamic.

8) Think you would have the same bond with your children if you were working? No. I am truly thankful for the time I am getting to spend with my daughter. I hope when she is older she is able to look at our time together fondly. 

9) Has being the at home parent changed your relationship with your wife? Better? Worse? We have both faced personal challenges in our new roles. But, we have luckily grown stronger. Parenthood has really helped us communicate better with each other. We truly appreciate the time we get to spend together. Also those moments we get time to ourselves as parents is very important to take advantage of it and reconnect as husband and wife. 

10) Finally, give new and expectant fathers a little advice for their new adventure into dadhood ...All the books out there can never take the place of actual experience. You will learn a tremendous amount about yourself once you become a father. No matter how tired or frustrated you may get just take ten seconds and a few breathes. This small time-out can help save sanity and prevent arguments. Take the moments in the first year or so in. Because show much change will come out about. Just pull as much joy as you can out of the insanity.


Ed At Home


@edathomedad

Real Talk: Being Real as a Dad

Continuing in the series "Real Talk" I figured it would only be right when it came to hitting on certain areas of life that I would talk about being real when it comes to being a dad. I guess a lot of people would say that if you are a "real man" as defined by the posts in this series then being a dad would just coem as part of that. However, I do not see this as being entirely true.

To be able to be real in life, I must be real in all areas of my life. I am a dad above all else. My children come first for everything in my life (followed very very VERY closely by my wife). Therefore, it seems logical to have a very stronger will to be real as a dad, above other areas. What does this mean exactly?

My calling, as a dad, is to protect, provide for, and teach my children, to do it to the best of my ability, and to prepare them for the life that lies ahead of them. This also calls for me to be real with myself and with my children at all times. I am here to tell you it's not possible. There are times when my actions or my reactions to situations are out of line, and need a realignment. There are times when my judgement does not reflect the best of my abilities.

This area is under constant construction. Never could I know all the answers all the time all the right times. I want what's best for my children (who doesn't, right?). Eventually they will grow up and one day look back on how they were raised when questioning their own parental abilities. What I do now, will be a reflection of who I am now, to who they are then. Right? My oldest is at the age where imitation is the key to learning how to act, react, and what to say and when. Too many words of anger heard, too many words of anger spoken. Words of love, honesty, firmness, and compassion foster a caring, proper, and honest understanding of life and the cause and effect of actions.

I want my children to know that their father loves them, even when anger is about to boil over, and to be able to recognize that anger, before it boils. I want to be able to speak nothing but honesty and compassion with them, so they may grow up to be kind and understanding. I want my life to be something they can measure me by, and be admired by.

Perhaps they won't grow up the way I want them to. In fact, I can promise they won't. But one thing that can remain a constant through the times we will share together, is that I tried to be real with them and in my raising of them. I promise them to try, to try to be real, to try to be honest, and loving and compassionate, to raise them with the best of my abilities, and to raise them the way being a "real dad" calls me to be.

Real Talk: Guest Post by TheJackB

So my friend John asked me to write a post about what it means to be a real man and presto changeo, I have the following thoughts to share with you. But before I begin allow me to share some of the lyrics from the song I am listening to:

Do you really think I care,
What you read or what you wear,
I want you to join together with the band,
There's a million ways to laugh,
And every one's a path,
Come on and join together with the band.

Everybody join together, I want you to join together,
Come on and join together with the band,
We need you to join together, come on and join together,
Come on and join together with the band.

You don't have to play,
You can follow or lead the way,
I want you to join together with the band,
We don't know where we're going,
But the season's right for knowing,
I want you to join together with the band.

It's the singer not the song,
That makes the music move along,
I want you to join together with the band,
This is the biggest band you'll find,
It's as deep as it is wide,
Come on and join together with the band,
Hey hey hey hey hey hey, well everybody come on.

Join Together- The Who

I suppose that I could write it off as a coincidence that this started playing now. Could say that it is just part of the iTunes shuffle but I won’t. I won’t because it is appropriate and pertinent to this discussion.

A real man understands that there is a time and place for being part of a community or an individual. He recognizes that there are moments when he must go off by himself and follow his heart and that some times obligations/responsibilities must come ahead of that.

A real man understands that his role within the family unit is to provide for his family.  What is important to remember is that the most critical thing that a real man can provide for his family is emotional stability and then financial.

Now these are concepts and ideas that are not written in stone and are subjective in nature. But that is ok because when you deal with people and these sorts of things there is no single formula to follow, no one way to do things.

Family life is fluid and dynamic. Things are always changing. Children grow, parents age and relationships build, develop and dissolve. So a real man figures out how to adapt and overcome the challenges that are presented.

A real man accepts responsibility for the good and the bad. You hold yourself accountable because when the lights go out and you are alone with your thoughts it is always clear whether you met or failed to meet the mark you set.

In my mind a real mind is active in the world around him. He gives back to his community and tries to make the world a better place. These are not platitudes or things to be said for the purpose of making one look better.

Of course you could do so. You can always find a way to present a front to others, but you can never truly fool yourself. So when I sit down and think about whether I meet the mark, whether I fit the description of a real man I think…sort of.

Still working, still growing and hopeful that one day I get it right. But that is the good news, the real man always has another day. Another day to try to do it all again, to be better. Because a real man can’t accept just giving up.

Better to fail trying than to not try at all.

By: @TheJackB

Jack Be Nimble

Dental, Mental, and Metal Breakdowns

8:30 came way to early this morning. I mean, who makes a dentist appointment for a 3yo at 8:30 in the morning?!?! So cruel. Anyway, today was Caleb's second ever visit to the dentist. Now it is important to note that Caleb is TERRIFIED of doctors and anyone in scrubs. The dentist is no exception to this fear. Everything is fine in the waiting room. They have a miniature movie theater, a few arcade style games, and some other play things. Pretty cool if you ask me, especially for a pediatric dentistry office. They sure didn't have anything like that when I first started seeing the dentist, but we had Mr Thirsty the water sucker. But I digress

So, hanging out in the waiting room with Caleb and his Uncle Bubby, who was brave enough to come with. Caleb loves his Uncle Bubby so much so we figured that having him with us would make things a little better. Right? WRONG!!!

They call his name, and the crying begins almost immediately. The laughing, playing, "LOOK AT THE FISH!" Caleb ceases to exist. Just this screaming, 3 foot tall, 24 pound bag of bones. My heart just aches for him despite my smile and calming voice saying "it's okay. daddy is here, everything is fine." Just as much as Caleb is breaking down, I am breaking down inside. It pains me to see him so scared, to have to hold him down when all we should be doing is running away and getting outside.

The nurse gets is teeth cleaned up and ready for the dentist to come take a peek. We watch Dora on a small flat screen TV above the chair Caleb is sitting in and he slowly starts to calm down. Then Ms Dentist walks in.   A tall woman, european I believe (sounds like a slight german or dutch accent) and mean. Caleb starts screaming again and holding on to me for dear life. I have to put him down in the chair and hold him. Arm, Legs, and torso pinned up under me. He looks at me screaming "ALL DONE!! DADDY ALL DONE!" and my heart breaks again. I just want to shout at these people and tll them to stop that we are all done. The dentist is poking him saying "stop crying stop crying" and I t am so distraught for Caleb that slapping her starts to seem like an option.

The visit is over and we head to the car. Caleb is calm with the little plastic Nemo looking fish they give him. We put on some heavy metal (Caleb's favorite right now) and get ready to head home. The first breakdown from All That Remains starts to play, and I to look in the rearview to see Caleb. Eyebrows lowered, his freshly cleaned teeth just shining while he bangs his head in time. And home we head, all three of us, headbanging and singing along. The perfect end to a really crappy morning.