It’s good to hear about a good man.
There’s a lot of bad dad ink out there on the Internet. And on TV. I’m looking at you, Disney Dad. Father who jams too much dish detergent into the dish washer in the detergent ad. Don’t get me started on you, Charlie Sheen.
You know today’s guest blogger on The CD by her thoughtful and funny posts, and from the thoughtful, faithful comments she leaves your blog: She’s Rabia Lieber.
She writes the blog The Liebers, where she chronicles the tales of Frances, Henry and Benjamin, and the parents who raise them. She explains the differences between ground hogs and mothers and other mysteries of life.
Rabia’s as thoughtful as she is talented, and is always willing to help out her fellow writer. Check out her #TuesdayTen linkup, too.
Please give her warm welcome, and be sure to take a trip to The Liebers.
When the kids were little and they made that noise, (you know the one that means they were filling their diapers?) I used to say to my husband, “Your son/daughter is calling for you!!” And he would do it to me just as often. It was a little family joke.
We’ve often referred to the kids as belonging to the other parent. Mostly when they do something weird. “She’s your daughter!!” I have heard of parents that do this in a negative way, like when the kid does something bad, but we’ve never meant it in a bad way; only to be funny.
When Eli asked me if I’d like to do a guest blog for him, I asked if he had any suggestions or guidelines. He threw out a few questions for me, but the one that really stuck was “What kind of men do you want your sons to grow up to be?” That question really resonated with me.
On my blog, I tend to not talk about my husband very much. He is a private person. He has a facebook page, but he rarely posts to it. He just doesn’t see why people are so interested in the minutiae of other people’s lives. I wish I could be less interested in it, that’s for sure!!
A while back, Ken and I were in the kitchen. It was a snow day for the kids and for me and it was his usual day off. I was making dinner for that night and he was getting dinner prepped for the next night. (Note: I want my sons to grow up knowing that Daddy cooks as well as Mommy, unless we’re talking about the grill, and then Daddy’s food is better than Mommy’s.)
The kids were supposed to be cleaning up toys in the dining room, which of course meant that Henry (my six year old and middle child) was playing.
He came running into the kitchen and showed me his knee, “Mommy! I have a booboo!” I told him he’d be fine and to go finish cleaning up.
A few minutes later when my hands were fully covered in raw chicken, he came back. This time yelling, “Mommy!! It’s bleeeeeeeeeeeeding!”
I got out my imaginary magnifying glass to examine the 1/8 inch line on his knee that looked slightly red. Henry tends to exaggerate his wounds. This one was truly no big deal. I said, “Henry, someday you are going to be the president of the itty-bitty booboo club and your Mommy and Daddy are going to be SO proud!”
He got mad and stomped out of the kitchen yelling, “So you like it when I get booboos!?! Fine!!”
Ken and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. Henry tends to exaggerate more than just his booboos. He is intense. He gets it from his father. While Ken and I were laughing, I said, “Do you see what I mean when I say he’s just like you? I’m going to start calling him mini-Kenny!”
Henry is just like his dad in temperament. He is exactly the opposite of me. I am a very laid back, go with the flow, kind of person. I have been known to get in the car to leave for a trip without having once looked at a map or directions. Ken will ask where we are going and my reply is, “Well I just figured we’d head East and follow the signs.” Ken on the other hand not only prints out the directions; he studies them and memorizes them before a trip. He likes structure and well laid out plans. Plans annoy me.
Ken has worked in retail for as long as I’ve known him. He likes it and he’s good at it. He likes helping people. For a while he was the manager at a retail electronics shop. He had stock numbers for most of the common items memorized. Actually he still does. Try walking up to him and asking him for the stock number for a pair of 9-volt batteries.
He left the electronics business when Frances was born so he could stay home with her. He taught her to like geeky television and chicken livers. I may never forgive him. But Frances still talks about those times like she remembers them vividly. She was not quite two when he went back to work and she started day care.
When he worked in electronics a woman brought in her cordless phone. She wanted to replace it because it had stopped working. Ken could have sold her a brand new setup for about $100. After all; that’s what she came in for. Instead he cleaned out the terminals and sold her a new battery for about $10.
Good for business? Talking a customer out of a $100 purchase and into a $10 one? Some people see that as a dumb thing to do. But I’m pretty sure that woman appreciated it and told her friends. Ken will never know if sales increased or decreased because of that transaction, but it doesn’t really matter because it was the right thing to do. He is honest and fair and confused when I comment on it because he doens’t understand why it’s a big deal.
I want my sons to grow up to be like their father. Good men who work hard to love and support their families. Men who do the right thing, even if it’s not the expected or popular thing to do. Men who memorize the directions to our destination three days before we leave the house. OK, maybe not that one.