Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Jan 15, 2003, Beth’s age: 5

Mommy and Daddy were having a little disagreement. Beth was caught in the middle, sitting at the table trying to do her homework. After this discussion began to wind down and mommy left the room, Beth called out, “mommy, stop being argumentative!”

“What did you say?”, mommy asked incredulously from the other room.

“Argumentative”, Beth responded.

“That’s what I thought you said, I just couldn’t quite believe it. Did you learn that word from daddy?”

It is a parents responsibility to teach their children, but my wife feels that I should be a little more selective in what I teach.

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Jan 22, 2003, Beth’s age: 5

I consider it a natural law of the human experience; we tend to find more joy in the unexpected moments than in those that are more routine.

If there is anything that makes me feel like a failure as a parent, it is that neither myself nor my wife has more time to spend with Beth in her school related activities. Both of us work, so we are not often available to strike out with her class on many of their adventures in learning. One day this week I was allowed to make amends. Beth’s class was going to visit “Safety Village” and I was able to tag along. Being the only daddy was some cause for concern. I am loath to draw attention to myself amongst strangers, and nothing draws attention like being unique. The unending chorus of: “ah, it’s so sweet Beth’s daddy could come along,” kept an invisible bullseye on my soul for the whole afternoon.

So there I was, walking into Beth’s classroom one day this week, one of the parent chaperones for the trip. I immediately scanned the room for Beth. I saw her first. She was sitting “in circle,” with her back turned to me. Her teacher was handing out name tags, and each student was dismissed from circle only after they had received their tag. Beth’s turn came and as she turned to leave the circle she faced me. She stopped in mid step, initially somewhat confused to see something that did not belong – me. Suddenly, I saw the memory of our morning conversation appear as a grin creased her face from ear to ear. I cringed a little as she momentarily forgot proper classroom protocol and ran to me for a big hug.

It’s disappointing that I can’t be there for more of her class activities, but it made this morning that much more special.

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Nov 13, 2002, Beth’s age: 5

Veteran’s Day is a holiday for state employees in Florida. It is not a school holiday.

Little did we know, our alarm was about to take a holiday too.

It was seven-thirty, a full hour after Cheryl and I had hoped to be up. We had exactly thirty minutes to get Beth fed, dressed and out the door. On our best morning, when post alarm events mesh with Swiss precision, we all get out the door in 45 minutes. It was a challenge we had little choice but accept.

Do you know what?

We didn’t make it.

However, I had a back-up plan. The normal routine included a before school program, since both of us work. So the answer was simple: no before school program. In fact, it turned out to be the best thing that happened to me that day. The morning was a glorious Florida fall morning, so I decided we’d walk. Beth was thrilled to do something different, and do it with daddy. We walked through the neighborhood. We cut behind the baseball fields and approached the school from the rear.

We got to the student drop off area and said our goodbyes. Beth gave me her customary triple smooch farewell and she was off. I turned, took a few steps in the other direction and turned back. She was walking off to class with her back turned to me, her pony tail swinging in rhythm with each step. She was talking to one of her fellow students as they made their way to class. They were not overjoyed, but they were not upset either. They seemed happy.

So am I.