March 14: Proud of His Son, Their Natural Habitats, Dance Recital

Now he was being introduced to the Marine major.  The person who was performing the introduction was telling the major that Billy was a veteran, and that Billy had a son who was a sergeant in the Green Berets--in Vietnam.

The major told Billy that the Green Berets were doing a great job, and that he should be proud of his son.

"I am.  I certainly am," said Billy Pilgrim.

Billy is older.  He's reached the age where most adults, without even being prompted, will pull out their wallets to display pictures of their kids and grandkids.  I've reached that age, as well.  My kids aren't grown, but I will take out my iPhone at the drop of a hat to show friends pictures of them.

Like Billy, I am proud of my son and daughter.  Every time I watch my daughter dance, I want to somehow freeze the moment.  I don't want it to end.  When I'm helping my son get ready for bed, I want to take him to Neverland so that he won't get any older.  Concerts,  Recitals.  Wrestling tournaments.  Basketball games.  Football games.  I love watching my children in their natural habitats.

I remember one of my kids' dance recitals I attended a couple years ago.  It happened to fall on Father's Day.  I couldn't think of a better way to celebrate, but there was a father behind me, complaining.  Loudly.

"How long is this thing going to last? . . . I can't believe they scheduled this crap on Father's Day . . . I'm going to leave as soon as she's done dancing . . . Christ almighty, she's only in ONE number.  Why should I stay for all of this shit?"  It went on and on.

I sat there, getting more and more annoyed.  He was ruining the recital for everyone around him.  Finally, I couldn't take it any longer.  I turned to my wife, who was sitting beside me, and said loudly, "This is the best Father's Day I've ever had!  Only an asshole wouldn't want to see his kids dance."

The father behind me stopped talking.  Within a couple minutes, he got up and left.  I hope his daughter didn't see him stalking out of the auditorium.

Tonight, Saint Marty is thankful for his son and daughter. 

September 2: Hang Onto Things, Kids, Prayer for a Big Boy

Mothers for miles around worried about Zuckerman's swing.  They feared some child would fall off.  But no child ever did.  Children almost always hang onto things tighter than their parents think they will.

E. B. White is talking about a rope in a barn.  A really long rope that swings really, really high without any kind of safety precautions.  You know, the kind of things kids love to do, and the kind of thing that parents have nightmares about.  Sort of like seeing your toddler son on the curb of a busy city intersection and not being able to stop him from stepping into traffic.

I put my kids on the bus this morning for their first day of school.  My daughter is a pro.  An eighth grader, full of confidence.  She knows the game.  My five-year-old son, on the other hand, had a rough kindergarten year.  Lots of visits with the principal.  Lots of talks with the school counselor.  It was a long year.

I have to say that I was a little anxious all day.  When I came home this evening, the first thing I did was look at my phone to see if there was a voice mail waiting for me.  There was no voice mail.  When I talked to my son a little later, I told him how happy I was that he behaved himself.  He looked at me and said, "I'm in first grade.  I'm a big boy now."

Kids constantly surprise parents.  As E. B. White writes, they hang onto things tighter than their parents think they will.  Today, my son did just that.

My prayer for this week is that my son keeps holding on.  Tight.  That he remembers he's a big boy now.

Saint Marty is so proud of his son.

Not this kind of big boy...