Lying to your children

I had the Today Show on the other day when a segment was airing in regard to lying to your children. I only heard a little and I didn’t really pay attention to it.

Since that time I have thought about my own honesty in regard to raising my own children.

I would never suggest to anyone that they follow my examples in raising children. I’ve always used instinct before expert advice and in fact I’ve never used any expert advice in raising my kids.

My own innate experience entailed developing trust from the moment they were born by simply spending as much time as I could with them and really trying to be in the moment and attentive whenever they expressed themselves or participated in an event.
It just seemed to me that when you have a trusting and open relationship with your kids it truly minimizes the necessity to lie.

I was also very open in regard to my own mistakes in life.

As my kids segued into adolescence, discussions of drugs, drinking and sex came up and I explained to them that I started smoking pot and drinking in the eighth grade and lost my virginity in high school.

I never worried that they would feel that, that gave them the right to do the same thing because I always felt like they trusted and respected me. I also felt that it was important that they knew that I am a human being who has made a lot of mistakes in life.

The sense that parents make mistakes too, can be very freeing and actually create more trust between a parent and a child.

My basic advice to them was simply, ‘The longer you wait before drinking, taking drugs or having sex the better your life will be.”

I’m proud to say that they all listened.

Being a Good Ex-Spouse

This week my twenty year-old daughter is on a well deserved vacation in Florida with her mother. I believe it is the first time they have had an extended one on one vacation since her mom moved away five years ago.

This past weekend I had the pleasure of attending an old friend’s fiftieth birthday party and I had some great conversations with people I hadn’t seen in years. One conversation struck me deeply. I was talking to a person who had known my ex-wife and I for years when he suddenly said, “How is you ex-wife doing? I’ll never be able to forgive her for what she did to you.”

I simply said, “We’re fine and she has married a very nice guy.”

These two events have caused me to think a little deeper about my own actions and what I believe is one of the most common reasons that people have deep issues with divorce.

Outsiders and friends seem to think that they are being loyal in a divorce by choosing sides and talking down the person, who from an outside perspective is the easiest to blame.

In the last five years since my ex-wife left, I have watched my three children blossom. They were thirteen, fifteen and nineteen when she left.

I was worried about my thirteen year old son and my fifteen year old daughter. Those are crucial ages and with turmoil going on at home it is easy for a young teenager to follow the wrong path.

My ex-wife and I knew she was going to leave nine months before she left. Some people find it remarkable that we lived together while she was seeing someone else on the weekends. For me it was critical to maintain a family unit during the transition. Was it easy? No!

I had my moments of deep depression and drowning my sorrows in several bottles of beer. My ex-wife and I had powerful, hurtful, angry conversations but this was always done away from the kids.

After several months of living with the knowledge that we were going to separate our home we sat the thirteen year old and the fifteen year old down to break the news to them. After a difficult, emotional dialogue my wiseass son said, “Dad, find someone hot. Mom, don’t marry a dick.” We still laugh about this today because she was seeing and did marry someone named Dick.

My ex-wife moved to Washington, D.C. and remarried. Fortunately she went to work at the university where my oldest son was attending college and he was able to move in with her for awhile after school.

My daughter, my youngest son and I stayed in our hometown, moved out of a big beautiful house and transitioned to several apartments and living arrangements over the next five years.

Through all the rough times and upheaval they had a stable home and a lot of laughter.

I committed to not place any negative feelings that I had about their mom on them. I knew that no matter what pain I was feeling, they loved their mom and if I criticized their mom in front of them it would simply make them feel bad.

When they expressed anger or pain about their relationship with their mom I simply tried to listen and reenforce that what they were expressing was important. They may have been feeling some of the same pain that I was but I wanted to make sure that it didn’t ramp up into some “mom is bad “feeling.

If children feel bad about a parent it can make them feel bad about themselves.

I also think that in a small town, if friends feel resentment toward an ex-spouse that can inadvertently rub off on the kids. That is why whenever anyone expressed the feelings that were expressed to me at the birthday party I always responded with “We are doing great!”

So now my daughter is off enjoying a terrific and well deserved vacation in the hot sun. They will have time to relate and enjoy each other while they deepen their relationship. It is great for her and the better she feels the better I feel.

Passing Along Positive Thoughts

My friend, Pete, called me Sunday morning. His daughter, Devon, had just left 15 minutes before to go to college for her freshman year.

She is a smart, funny, attractive young woman who is attending school on a full academic scholarship.

Pete didn’t expect to miss Devon. She has so much to look forward to and that is his focus. In that moment Pete was feeling a little lonely and I was honored that he put in a call to me to ask me if I’d like to go get a beer that afternoon. I couldn’t go and Pete and I had a great conversation on the phone.

A couple of days later, while I was working, I thought of Devon and I thought of all the times that Pete has talked in glowing terms about her. I am sure that he tells her the same things in person but I also know that when someone reaches out to someone else and says, “So and so always says positive things about you” it can have a deep impact. When you tell them their parents are saying positive things about them when they are not around it can have an even deeper impact.

So I took the liberty of looking Devon up on Facebook and I sent her this note.

Devon,

About 15 minutes after you left on Sunday your dad called me. He said, "I thought I was going to be fine but now that she is gone I really miss her"

I can't tell you the number of times that your dad and I have talked about you. He is so proud of you and he knows that you are going to accomplish everything that you put your mind to in life.

Enjoy the future. It is really bright. When your dad gets weepy I'll take him for a few beers so he can talk about how proud he is of you!


Yours truly,
Devon Fan Cameron

Devon responded with a great note back to me.

When I hear an honest, sincere compliment about someone I like to make sure that they know it. We all like to hear good things about ourselves and it helps to create better self-esteem and makes us stronger.

My Hero, Ryan

Last weekend I got involved in a Facebook exchange. My girlfriend, Wendy, posted the following:

“July 4th we celebrate the signing of the "Declaration of Independence" Officially forming the 13 colonies, in America, free from the Kingdom of Great Britain. A war took place in this process, The American Revolutionary War. Freedom has ALWAY's come with a price. I stand proud to live in this free nation. I will honor ...& support those who have & continue to fight & defend our countries freedom! Do you?”

This elicited immediate responses as one friend wrote about her son being deployed to Iraq and friendly posts with thanks and positive thoughts for her and her son abounded.

I was struck by one friend who posted “You are the Patriot. Most parents do everything in their power to keep military age children at home.”

I know this person was trying to be nice but the idea that someone would take a group of people, in this case parents, and make a negative assumption about them is troubling to me. Assumptions like this happen all the time and I think it goes to the core of a collective communication discourse in our country that separates all of us.

My nephew, Ryan, also landed in Iraq this week. He has wanted to be a soldier ever since he was a little boy. He tried college for a semester and then decided that the Army Reserve would be a good fit for him and would help him offset his future college expenses.

I know that the way he was pushed in basic training taught him that he could reach deeper than he ever imagined and the forced discipline of the daily process was also a wonderful benefit.

Ryan is the only one of my parent’s seven grandchildren who is currently serving in the military. The other six are either attending college or about to attend college.

I never talked about military service with my oldest son or my daughter. They were so completely focused on college that it wouldn’t have been the best option for them.

My youngest son Sam, who happens to be extremely close to Ryan, could use many of the skills that the military could teach him. I’ve talked about the military several times with him and he has chosen to attend college this year.

I believe that most parents go through this type of process.

As Ryan sits in Iraq and serves his country I am proud of him and scared for him. I don’t think that he considers himself a hero.

The most heroic thing that I have had the honor of seeing Ryan do occurred during his dad’s funeral in June of 2009. While his sister Hilary began to speak about their dad she started to cry. Ryan waited for a moment to let her collect herself and then when she couldn’t, he gracefully approached the podium, put his arm around Hilary and read her words with strength and eloquence.

I am sure that Ryan’s army training came into play in that moment. If he is confronted with a situation that requires grace under pressure in Iraq I know he will respond heroically.

I also know that my friends, family and acquaintances, who are parents, would never do whatever they could to keep their children out of the military. They would simply help their children make the choice that is right for them.

I hope we remember that the majority of the people who live in the United States love this country and when we assume something negative about a particular group it divides us and weakens the country that Ryan is fighting for.

Emergency Ward

Last Sunday morning I received an email from my dad with the title “Emergency Ward” the cryptic note that followed said “Spent last evening at the Blue Hill Hospital. You will have to call your mother to get the details. Dad”

To give you a little background, this past year has been tough on my mom and dad who have been married for almost 58 years. Mom has been battling memory loss and several health issues and my dad battles diabetes, and is still recovering from having is aortic valve replaced in October.

The number of trips to the emergency room has increased at an astronomical rate and my dad’s emails have become more stilted.

As soon as I received the email I called my mom. I was expecting a stressed out response on the other end but my mom answered with a giddy tone to her voice.

“What’s up with dad?” I asked.

“Well”, she giggled.” Your father and I had sex yesterday afternoon and as soon as we were done he had to get up and take a shower.”

Of course I started laughing and I apologize if this is too much information for the reader.

“When he came out of the shower he couldn’t remember anything that had happened all day, except for the sex. I asked him several questions and he couldn’t answer them. I thought he was having a stroke, so I insisted we go to the hospital.”

By the time they got to the hospital they were laughing and when they explained their situation to the hospital staff they were informed that it is rare, but memory loss after sex or intense exercise is something referred to as “transient global amnesia”. Dad’s doctor thinks the episode is related to his diabetes and low blood sugar.

Whatever the reason, it is a testament to my parents and their marriage. Their health is waning, life is more difficult and they are still able to connect in a beautiful, emotional and physical way.

And as I told my mom on the phone, “It’s pretty impressive that after 58 years of marriage you are so good in bed that you can still make dad lose his mind.”

The Gift of Words

I spend a significant amount of time working at being a good parent. I wonder if I am doing enough and I wonder if I am doing too much. I think most parents do the same thing.

This week I received one of those gifts that let me know that I am on the right track. My daughter had an in class writing exercise to do in one of her college classes. They were given writing prompts as they were writing and what follows below is simply a flow of words off the top of her head.

To me it is a gift of words that assures me that I doing OK as a dad and that my daughter is doing great as a human being.

My father is an absolutely hilarious human being. Some may describe him as “ridiculous”, some may describe him as “caring”, and others may describe him as “rude”, but that is precisely what I love about him. He always has some sort of joke (most of the time it’s lame) to fill a void in a conversation. He has the ability to make me laugh hysterically, until I have tears in my eyes. No joke. I can always count on him to make fun of me; to call me out when I am being dramatic, which is often (I have my grandmother’s genetics). I see my father sitting at our kitchen table, typing away (oh, he is awful at typing so it is a wonderful sight to see) on his beat up laptop with duct tape on the edge to stop the screen from freaking out every five minutes. It’s a funny thing; how much he and his laptop have in common. Not the freaking out part, because I honestly can’t remember the last time my father yelled at me, but the part about being a bit different, being a bit “quirky.” I’m not sure if I’m explaining this similarity well, but it is a GOOD thing. Anyway, I see my father there in the kitchen, in his old boxer briefs (pants are always optional in our house), with a hole in the ass because he hasn’t bothered to buy a new pair in about three years (that is so typical dode), and one of his white v-neck t-shirts that Wendy bought him for Christmas. He’s probably typing up another inspirational post for his blog; what he does best.

It’s difficult sometimes to figure out what my dad is thinking about. He is a very complex man. He has strong emotions and he could be thinking some terribly depressing thought but I would never know because he would never let me know. That is what I love about my father; he only wants what’s best for his kids. And if he is having the worst day ever, he would never project that on us. He’s very strong. He can fall down ten times a day, but always manage to get back up and “keep on keepin’ on.” That should be my dad’s bumper sticker or personal phrase or something like that because that truly describes his personality and outlook on life. But anyway, he is thinking back to a time when we were little (us kids); I was maybe four or five. We’re all playing in the backyard of our Pleasant Hill house and he’s out there watching us, thinking “what did I do right? How the hell did I get blessed with the three best children I could ask for?” He has his silly dad grin on, thinking how, no matter what shit he was dealing with at work, or anything else, life couldn’t be better because he has us. Of course, we stressed the hell out of him, especially back then we were little, but he still feels blessed. I think, though, that he shouldn’t wonder how we happened, because it’s all because of him. Of course, the whole sex part, and him and my mom creating us, but it’s my dad that made us so great (my mom did too, of course, but this is about my dad right now). I don’t think parents realize that. They always focus on how great their kids are and what they did to deserve great kids (well, the good parents do at least) but they never really realize that a lot of it is thanks to them. They are what’s so great about us. I highly doubt that I would be as independent as I am today if it wasn’t for my dad ‘s ability to let us do things on our own; he knew that we would figure things out somehow without having his help all the time. I certainly wouldn’t be as resilient as I am today if it wasn’t for my parents’ divorce, I certainly can thank them for that! And I know for a fact, without a doubt, that I would not have the same ridiculous sense of humor if it wasn’t for my dad. Those things affect kids and I am really glad that I had my dad’s influence growing up, over anyone else. God, my dad is great.

Getting back on Your Feet

Yesterday was a beautiful day and as I sat at my computer working and writing I received an email from a friend and colleague that said, “Don't forget to go out and PLAY!”

It was a good wakeup call because I have a tendency to get involved in my writing and working and I don’t always stop to enjoy the day.

So I pulled myself away from the keyboard, threw on my old school running gear and headed out for a run.

I’m fortunate that I live close to a small island connected by a bridge to the mainland.

As I turned on to the wooded trail that winds around the island, trudging along in my running shorts and black sox highlighting my white legs, I looked up to see an attractive young woman running with two teenage girls. As they got closer, I smiled. This act, while running, apparently was too much simultaneous coordination for my middle aged body to handle and I immediately tripped over the root of a tree and dove, face first into the wet, fungal, forest soil.

I laughed, took a second to assess any injuries and then stumbled to my feet in time to acknowledge some comment of concern from the three females as they easily glided past me.

For the next mile I chuckled at myself and thought about all the times that I have fallen in life. The emotional, financial and physical dips that we all endure can be overwhelming as we experience them and empowering as we overcome them.

The falls aren’t what define us. It’s the way that we can get back on our feet on keep running.