On Not Being the Father I Want to Be

Warning: This post is not funny. Okay, you have been warned.

I have been divorced now for about three and a half years (separated for about 5) and do not have a good relationship with my ex-wife. Despite the fact that we have three kids together, and we should therefore make more of an effort to get along, we don't. When I say that we don't get along, I don't mean that we are miserable or openly belligerent to each other in front of the kids -- we just don't communicate. My shiny new wife and I never say anything bad about her when the kids are at our house, or within ear shot (let me reiterate the "not-when-the-kids-are-around" part). With some of the things the kids have said during their previous visits, I don't think that policy is in place at my ex's home, but I'm not going to judge.

When I say that we don't communicate, I mean we do not talk -- at all. Unless the kids need something, or there is vital information that needs to be shared, we are completely not communicating. Because we don't talk, this means I don't ever talk to my kids either.

I tried. When we first split up, I called my kids every night, but over the years it has trickled down to nothing. A part of this is my fault and part of this my ex-wife's. Whenever I called the kids, conversations were primarily with my youngest son, who would hog the phone to the point where I barely got to say anything to the other two. I would like to say that the older two were upset about this, but when I asked them about it, my older son said that it wasn't a big deal because he was saving up his conversations for when he came over to visit (and then he would spend the whole weekend on the video game... nice talk, son...)

As time went on I started calling the kids less, but would still try to call two to three times a week. Unfortunately I began having more and more trouble getting through to them. The phone would ring and ring but no one would ever answer. I would leave a message, but no one would ever call back. When I did get a hold of them my ex started putting the phone on speaker phone, which made it even harder to have a conversation with the kids. It was much easier for my youngest to drown out the other two, whereas before, he would just refuse to give the phone to his siblings.

The straw that broke the camel's back was when she dropped the home phone altogether in lieu of a cell phone. Trying to have a cell and a land line is just plain expensive, so I don't begrudge her that decision. It just hasn't made it easier to talk to the kids, especially when the speaker phone seems to be so much worse on the cell. The sound quality isn't even the worst thing about it; surprisingly, it seems to have gotten even more difficult to get a hold of her. Hmmm... Isn't the point of a cell phone to be able to get hold of someone anywhere, at anytime? Getting a hold of my ex has become nearly impossible, and it seems even more difficult on special occasions. Nothing is worse than calling the house at least 5 times throughout the day to wish the kids a happy birthday (or a Merry Christmas, or a Happy Easter, or a...) and not being able to get through.

Once upon a time, my ex was also pretty good at telling me when school events were coming up. If the kids had a concert or some school event that was coming up, she would make sure I knew about it. I remember one year she even made sure that I was able to get tickets to an event. But those days are long gone. Sometimes the kids tell me something is coming up and I get to go. Other times, the first I hear that they had something was when they come to me after the fact and ask why I didn't go. My youngest gave me the heads up for a big Air Band competition that he was going to be in; he told me when and where it was. I was very excited because I had seen his sister perform in the same event a couple of years ago. My wife and youngest daughter went to the event only to find out, after we had stood in line for forty five minutes (at least) to get tickets, that the show sold out a long time before the day of the event (and there were no scalpers to be found). Everyone in line had already had tickets and was just waiting to get in.

This isn't just about school functions either. My ex-wife recently mentioned, off-handedly, about the last time my older daughter was at the ER because she was having seizures. I was a little surprised because she never even told me that my daughter had been rushed to the ER, ever.

I tell you all of this to set up a story. I mentioned it on Facebook, as a status, but will repeat it here in its entirety. A few weeks ago, when I picked up my kids, my ex-wife and I were parked next to each other in an easy conversation distance. The kids had to run in and get changed -- apparently they are not allowed to wear any decent clothes to my house, so they had to go get their crap clothes on. I tried to start a conversation with her, but my heart wasn't in it. It took every inch of courage and strength I had to leave her in the first place, so trying to pretend like she didn't make me miserable for so many years, and have a normal conversation with her is tough. That isn't even mentioning the new stuff she has thrown on the pile. And let's not forget that I am a big chicken and terrified of her for some reason.

I started with some pleasantries, and she followed by telling me that my oldest had his moving ceremony the next Thursday at 7 pm. I was very excited that she actually told me of an upcoming event. The conversation trailed off quickly and we sat there in silence -- well, that is until she decided to call her boyfriend on the phone and started having a loud conversation with him. I really didn't care, but when the kids came back and were saying goodbye, she had to yell across to them the goodbyes from the boyfriend and tell me that he refers to my daughter as his princess. Again, I don't care. I hope she finds someone and is happy like I am. The only thing I do care about, is that whomever she ends up with, they are good to the kids.

I would never feel threatened by someone my ex was with because I am not insecure about how my kids. They know they I love them and I know they love me. I will always be their dad, and that is that. My only concern is that the kids have never actually met this new person. I think my ex mentioned that they have met a couple of times, but her boyfriend lives down south somewhere and this is an internet/telephone relationship. This won't be the first person she's gushed about, to me and the kids, but usually something happens and she never talks about them again. It's fine to have a long distance relationship, but don't drag the kids into it, not until you are closer to the point where you are ready to take the next step.

Don't tell the kids you are going to be getting gifts or travelling to exotic locales to meet with someone until presents arrive or flights have been booked (which she has done to them with previous relationships). My kids recently told me that they were moving and not going to the same school next year. When I mentioned this to my ex, she insisted that the kids had misunderstood her. She loves the school they go to now, and wasn't going to be leaving the school district; she just wants a bigger apartment. I must confess, I am a little suspicious, because moving would mean she would be giving up a subsidized three bedroom apartment. Hmmm...

Well, anyway, back to the story. She actually told me about the Moving Up ceremony. Maybe this was a turning point? Okay, last event of the year, but still... as Dr. Leo Marvin said, "Baby steps." Thursday came and I was getting excited to go. The only negative thing was that my wife was just coming off of a pretty big illness and was still not at 100%. I was trying to convince her to try and make it, but she just didn't feel well enough. I was going to take our 2 year old to see her big brother, but it was going to end past her bedtime and we didn't know how she would handle it. So I jumped into the car and headed to the school. I pulled in, listening to They Might Be Giants and parked. I got there about twenty minutes early, so I could get a decent seat.

I followed the milling crowd to the blue gym, and saw where the ceremony was going to take place. I climbed up the bleachers and found a good spot, toward the back in the third from the top row. I had my camera all juiced up and ready to shoot, and tested the zoom to make sure I could get a good shot of him getting his certificate. Well, time went on and I was scanning the kids as they came in and were standing about chatting. They were gathering around the fold-up chairs that were set up on the basketball court's floor. I looked, and I looked, but I did not see my son anywhere. I thought that maybe he was mixed in with a crowd I could not see. So I waited.

They started with the national anthem and then four or five speeches. They were nice, but something, I'm sorry to say, that you would only bother to sit through because your child was there. The little orchestra played a tune, they had a little dance number, again, nice, but.... Then the speeches were done and the kids got up row by row and formed a line. One by one, they went to the podium, handed the person a tag and their name was read aloud. I started filming to capture everybody, because I did not want to miss my son, not having located him yet. It was about halfway through the kids lining up that I ended up turning the camera off. I could see the kids that were left, and those that had gone already, and finally realized that my son was not here.

To say I was furious is an understatement. Not only did my ex deprive my son of this moment, but to not even have the decency to call and tell me he wasn't going to be there was just plain wrong. I know my son was excited about this; he was telling me that several of my ex's family were going to go as well. So I sat there in the bleachers and watched the end of the ceremony, the whole time just fuming.

The sad thing is, this whole incident just makes me feel like I am a total failure as a father. I should have taken this rage and done something constructive with it. I should have drove to her apartment (which is right across the street from the school) and confronted her. I should have told her that this is bullshit and that things need to change. We don't have to like each other, but we have to be respectful of each other for the kids' sake. I should have thrown in her face the fact that I had to drive to her apartment on Christmas day to wish the kids a merry one because she refused to answer her phone. I should have screamed at her that if ANY of our kids are taken to the hospital, I should be called immediately. But I didn't. In fact, I still haven't even talked to her about it. I don't know why I am so scared of this woman. As much as I hate to admit it, she still has a certain amount of control/power over me that I cannot understand. Just the thought of confronting her makes my chest tighten and sweat appear on my brow (I am experiencing this as I type).

I don't know if I need to go to some sort of therapy to get over this, or what, but I feel I have let my kids down. I haven't fought for my kids, and that is what being a parent is supposed to be about, right? You're supposed to be able to lift a bus off your kid, go to hell and back to protect your children, and I can't even pick up the phone and talk to their mother. This whole experience should inspire me to be a better father and do more for them. I don't think she is abusing the kids in any way (except for alienating them from their father). If I believed they were being abused, of course that would be enough to rouse me out of this condition to do something. My oldest has talked about playing soccer for two years and says each time that his mother didn't hand in the paperwork. I should have confronted her about this. I should have confronted her about a lot of things, but haven't. I keep saying that someday I will get past this, but when? When the kids have graduated? Will I have any sort of relationship with them by that point? I feel that I have let them down, and continue to let them down. I feel to some degree that I have given up on them, and it makes me feel even worse about myself.

Well, this post has been a big old ex-wife bash/pity party and for that I apologize. Sometimes, everybody needs an outlet and today I have spared my wife (well, sort of, since she is my editor and reading this anyway) and burdened you, the reader, with it. I know I am being hard on myself. There are many people out there who know me well, who would say that I am doing a good job with my kids. My wife and I have really gotten control of my youngest son (thanks to months of therapy) and visits are quite enjoyable now. I have a relationship with my kids and I am convinced that it will only get stronger as the years progress. By trying to keep the kids out of my life, my ex is only going to cause a rift in her relationship with them that will grow wider as they get older. No matter what, I am their dad, and they are my kids, and nothing will ever change that.

On Parades

"I love a parade...." goes the song. Well, the composer obviously hasn't been to a small town parade in a while. Okay, that was a bit harsh, but that has been my basic opinion of hometown parades for several years. The reasons for these feelings will be discussed below, but this year, despite my thoughts about them, my wife and I decided to take our two year old to my hometown's annual 4th of July parade.

The reason for my negative attitude can be boiled down to the number of parades I have gone to over the years. I am not saying that I am a parade stalker or anything like this, but when you have kids, you often find yourself compelled to go. Whether it is because the children are participating in the parade itself, or because they are really excited to go, too many times you find yourself standing in the boiling heat, watching another parade slowly meander by.

Now if I lived in a big city, then I might get excited about going to a parade. Twenty foot tall balloons of classic cartoon characters, today's hottest performers singing on floats, famous actors and actresses riding in cars... now that would be awesome. But those are not the parades I have been to.

Let's break down a small town parade, just in case you have never been to one. First of all, there are the fire trucks. Not just one company, but usually three or four, from the firehouses of the surrounding areas. I have nothing against fire trucks, but really, when you've seen one, you have seen just about every one. You can change the colors as much as you want, but it's still just a fire truck. To be honest, I hope to never see a fire truck, outside of a parade. Because if I do, chances are, someone's property is on fire, and that just sucks.

In the same vein as the fire trucks, there are the rescue squads. Again, I don't want to see ambulances, as they are a sign that something is terribly wrong. (I am not even talking about the fact that it will be about a $1,000 dollar ride to the emergency room.) Besides, don't these people have more important things to do than be in a parade? With all the idiots with fireworks out there, the EMT's and first responders should be sitting in their vehicles ready to roll. I'd hate to see them plow through a marching band to get to the scene of an accident (actually, that would be an interesting sight, as long as no one was hurt).

Speaking of marching bands, are there any local schools that have marching bands anymore? When I was a kid I remember my parents dragging me to the parade because my brother was in the school band. I also remember watching the school band practice at the end of the year for the Independence Day parade. This year, there were no hometown school bands. Because of our town's Scottish heritage, there were two bagpipe bands though. Kilt clad men and women playing the beautiful but shrill bagpipes, doing all of the traditional bagpipe band classics (Amazing Grace, etc.). There was a drum corp from somewhere, a community marching band from the town next door and another local community band that wasn't even marching. They were playing on the bed of a large truck (very smart considering the temperature). They were all very good, and one of the highlights of the parade for me, but still, it was not super exciting.

Let's not forget the classic cars! Okay, let's do forget the cars. I am not a car person and never have been. The cars are nice to look at, but I have never dreamed of owning one and I sure as heck couldn't care less about what is under the hood. It could be a dozen hamsters on wheels for all I care. (Actually, that might pique my interest.) I know a lot of people would disagree with me on this, but, as Popeye said, I am what I am... and a car lover I am not.

A parade would not be complete without floats, and this parade had four (I think). They were well done, of course. I am not going to belittle the hard work that went into the floats. Everyone involved spent a lot of time designing, constructing and decorating the floats, and they all looked great. I'm just saying, they were not as exciting as a big city's parade floats. There were no stars or famous performs on them, just the people that made them. They did a great job despite the lack of big budget.

Parades like this usually have all kinds of walkers included. From Girl and Boy Scout troops, to other special organizations involved in the area, there are traditionally numerous groups marching and walking the route. This year's parade had only a couple of groups on foot. I am not complaining, I was just surprised that there were so few. Are there just less local activities or school groups than there used to be? It was probably a good thing, as it was about 200 degrees out and I was dying just standing there.

When did parades become Halloween? Kids were standing on the sidewalks with little baskets and bags and gathering candy that was flung out of firetrucks, off of floats, and from pedestrians. It was a shower of candy with kids scrambling about collecting the goodies. A piece landed near me and I refused to bend over and pick it up. I was not willing to debase myself, and grovel on the ground like a starving man for candy. Well, I would have if it had been something other than a peppermint hard candy. I don't even consider this candy.

There of course were a few extras thrown in; the Shriners with their go-carts are always a parade classic. Granted there were only two, but still, they were there, fez's and all. There were horses, and the smell that accompanies them. The Washington County Dairy princes was in attendance with her court, and the cupped royalty hand waves were flying. A horde of children had decorated their bicycles and rode them down the street. I have absolutely nothing negative to say about them -- they were adorable! I am sure I am forgetting some other stuff, but it was your classic small town parade, just like I have seen dozens of times before.

Some maybe saying, why did you bother going? Why devote a whole blog post to criticize a parade that many are so proud of? To be honest, despite my whining, I had an awesome time! I loved it. I love my hometown and am proud of the parade they put on. And this year, I was not watching through my eyes, but those of my two year old daughter. The absolute look of delight in her eyes as she looked and saw the fire trucks and said "look daddy, fire truck!" was priceless. The glee at seeing the horses and the kids riding their bicycles was worth standing in the sweltering heat for more than an hour. "Look Daddy, Look" was repeated over and over again. She loved the parade, and therefore I did as well.

A hometown parades is one of the best parades you can go to. It doesn't have the polish of a big city parade, people don't spend thousands of dollars creating floats or hiring the best marching bands. But it is your friends and neighbors, coming together, in this case to celebrate the birth of our nation. I scanned the crowd and saw the faces of people I grew up with, went to school with, and haven't seen in years. I actually had to stop and talk to the two MCs of the parade; one was my old high school gym coach (who I still wanted to call coach, and who gave me the nickname of Butkus, a name that most people from my hometown still call me). The other was a friend I graduated both high school and college with and hadn't seen in a few years.

I don't live in this town anymore, but the parade was dedicated to a local EMT who recently lost her battle with cancer. Her name seemed familiar but I am not sure if I knew her or not. She obviously was someone who touched many lives in the town and they honored her in a very touching way. They made her the posthumous grand marshal of the parade. I am glad we took my daughter to the parade, because it is not just about fire trucks and marching bands; it's about community spirit. No spirit burns brighter than that of a small town.