A letter to my future kids and IĀ 

To me: When they make mistakes and your blood is boiling, know this: you were like that once too. Remember that “one big mistake”? Remember how you only knew the stove was hot when you accidentally placed your hand on it for the first time? We have to make mistakes in order to learn, and these precious little people you call your children may happen to make more than one simple mistake. These posts you write now promote a little bit of rebellious thinking, so allow them to approach life fearlessly. When they do something dumb, don’t approach them with a judgmental glare, talk to them, perhaps give them the time to explain their mistakes through writing. You know you did your fair share of that kind of explaining in your teenage years. Maybe the letters they write will aggravate you just a tiny bit, maybe you won’t be able to sympathize right away. Think back to this time right now, the moment you wrote the post to your future self and kids in the back of your french host family’s car on the way back to France from some place near Vouvre. You talked big game, but your actions didn’t represent the rebellion your words promote. That’s a product of punishment. The first tiny mistake you made left a burn in your mind, remaining imprinted forever. Each time your rebellion begs for a chance to breathe you remember the disapproving looks and words. You remember the judgement. To you the judgement may have appeared a little uncalled for for the situation, but you still feel remorse for your actions the night of that one big mistake years ago. So from then on out you continue to live a little more on the safer side than you typically would. You don’t act without thinking first. Some may judge you for lacking the ability to just act on impulse and spontaneity, but they weren’t around when you heard those disapproving words. Don’t give your children the same visual that halts them from making more than one simple mistake. Their mistakes are what will help them grow. When they trip and fall while navigating this difficult time, hold your tongue when you feel tempted to say “I told you so.” 


To them:

I want to start off with one thing, and that is this: I was never perfect, and never will be. If I ever pretend that I didn’t make the same mistakes you’re making at this age, I want you to search long and hard through this blog, because there will most likely be a post to prove otherwise. The reason I write, for others and for myself is to document a history. Sure it’s not monumental, and perhaps others have gone through these things, and it all appears to be yesterday’s news, but these stories need to be remembered. This is a testament to how I was throughout all of my growth. My good moments, but also my bad moments. When I had all of the confidence in the world, but also when I was breaking. The reason I show you this blog is because I want you to be able to read it before you go through some of these hard times, that way you’ll know when you’re going through them, that you’re not alone. I’ve gone through and will go through my share of experiences that perhaps I’ll forget at times, but they’ll be on this blog forever. You know your grandma and your grandpa, the ones I call mom and dad? I would have loved to read about their mistakes. It’s very simple when you’re a parent to feign perfection, but we all know it’s not real. Your grandma used to tell me that she made mistakes at my age too, and she thinks I should learn from them before I make the same ones. The only flaw in her preaching is that she doesn’t give me specific examples, she just keeps it vague. Though, I realize it’s not the easiest or most pleasant thing to attempt to remember your worst moments from your youth. Through this blog, I’ll spare my future self from the hassle of recounting some difficult memories, but feel free to ask me to elaborate on them if you’d like. 

When I was your age I respected my parents marriage, but at the same time was ever so curious about the relationships they had with the opposite sex throughout their life, before they met one another. But I never asked, and they never told. Sure I’ve gotten stories about the basic facts, but never in depth recounts of the emotions they went through/ felt towards those people. Here you’ll find more than you’d ever need to know about my past relationships before I met your dad. You’ll also find my thoughts about sex and other natural things we as sexual beings think about, but don’t always feel free to discuss openly. At this age I surely hope I will have explained the birds and the bees to you, but if not, I’d like you to make sure I do so. If I have, hopefully all your questions were answered in an open and accepting manner. I want you to know that no matter what you chose to do with your sexuality, whether it be to conform to society or not, I will love you as you are. Don’t ever feel you have to suppress your sexuality. It is one of the best things about being human. If your dad and I ever look at you and your boyfriend/ girlfriend with “disgust” as you’re making out, know that we’re simply kidding. Also, know that all of the “nasty” times you see me and your dad being “weird” (making out and grabbing on each other) in the kitchen, it is because we’re just as in love with one anther as we were years ago. 

Back to the letter though. The only time you’ll ever receive some tough love from me will be if you ever put someone down in order to build yourself up to be somehow superior to them. You’re my child, and my children don’t act like that. It is the one thing I detest the most, and will continue to detest until the day I die. Whenever you talk to someone, whether it be to your sibling, a friend, or a stranger remember that you are equals. No one is better, and no one is worse. 

By reading all of my old posts you’ll find my stories, my experiences, and my thoughts throughout my years. I hope that through reading these you’ll feel that you can come to me more freely, knowing I went through a similar thing. Lastly, I would like you to end this knowing that I will always love you no matter what. Perhaps it’s strange of me to be writing this so early, many many many years before you will be a reality, but I have a tendency to be weird and unconventional with what I post on this blog. 


Forced appreciationĀ 

Today is supposed to be a day of appreciation. We’re meant to express gratitude towards our fathers for all that they have done. We have the same exact kind of holiday for mothers, so neither goes unnoticed, and neither receives unequal praise and thanks for what they have done. I know providing for your children is an amazing thing all in its own, but I believe there’s more to being a parent. When I think of why I love those that I love, it’s not for material possessions they have provided me. I appreciate the fact that I live comfortably, that there’s food on the table, that I live in a house fully equipped with all the amazing comforts I’m fortunate to have. Though I don’t love these things. I could be happy living in the smallest house, with just a comfy blanket and bed to lay on, and two amazing role models (parents) by my side. So honestly, if push came to shove and I had to cutback on how I live, it wouldn’t bother me. I live for relationships, experiences, and for the opportunity to explore and apprecatiate all of the nuances life has to offer, not for extravagant things or simply a big house. 

Being a father is much more than the money you all bring home, I hope you know that. The post I recently wrote, titled “love” describes exactly what I believe being a father truly entails. Yes you can go to your 9-5 job or whatever job you have, but that job isn’t the one that earns the love from your child. It’s the job of being a father to your children that deserves and earns that love from that little human being. Being the leader, the protector, the gentle giant that they can look up to, the level headed arguer who would also never raises his voice at his little babies, who deals with matters rationally, who is not quick to temper, who facilitates a calm, loving, fear free home for his children to rest. That’s a father. 

I think men have lost what it means to be a father. Some fathers get offended when mom is the first person their child thinks to call for when they get scared, sad, upset, or need advice. Though if you think about it, the moms have earned this priority. The children don’t instinctually reach out to their mom simply because she’s their mom and they simply believe moms are the first parent to go to. They go to her because she has spent the time to care for them since they were just a little baby. Moms have the luxury of staying at home typically, for a few months or years, and naturally get more time to bond with the child. Though there’s more to it. Many times, our mothers don’t get stern and cold when upset at us, they use a motherly-authoritative tone when dealing with us. They also ask the things that fathers never dare to. They ask you if you have crushes, and they are genuinely curious. Typically it’s not simply so they can monopolize your time so you’re not near the opposite sex. They have conversations with you. Real conversations. They know your likes and dislikes. When the dad goes away and it’s just the kids, or just the daughters, or just the sons home with mom, she makes it fun. The occasion calls for a movie night, with popcorn, or ice cream, or simply a good discussion of the movie after it’s finished.  

Now I’m not saying all dads don’t do those things, or have that bond, but personally I’ve never experienced it.

If I were to say which parent understands me the best though, I’d have to say it’s my mom. Sure she has her moments of not-so-great-parenting, but she knows when she’s made a mistake, and she appalogizes. And the fact that she truly gets me makes up for all of those times.

Though I love my dad, I don’t share the same bond. I’d be heartbroken if he were gone, but I wouldn’t feel the same void that I would if it was my mom who was gone. 

I have fond memory’s of him when I was younger, but even then it was still off. My dad knows what truly comprises me just as much as a stranger would. It’s saddening, but it’s true. 

Today I really wish I could be more appreciative, write something more heartfelt in that darn card, but I can’t muster that kind of false praise. I could write the longest paragraph in that stupid thing, but it would all feel like lies. You have your good days, but your bad days diminish them. You don’t get me. You’d take that card to heart, possibly even cry because it “touched you so much” and maybe I’d cry too, because you don’t even know who I am. You don’t have the sense to realize I’ve never felt more disconnected. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll write a kickass card, and it will make you smile, make you feel loved, but it’s not real. 

I’m sorry. 

You don’t know the half of it

I find it funny that even with so much knowledge, one can’t see through a forced facade. This my readers, is my post on just how little a parent can know about their child’s knowledge of worldly things. And by worldly, I mean all that junk that we see way to young that corrupts the brains of adolescents across the globe. From innuendos, to just plain knowledge about terms of different sexual actions, etc.
I don’t remember how the conversation came about, and I’m pretty sure they assumed I was spaced out, but my parents approached the topic of how people seem to pick up random knowledge purely by watching different tv programs. Then my mom proceeds to refer to me, to my dad, saying how little she thinks I grasp all the innuendos being flung about in merely a half hour episode.
Little to both of their knowledge they’re just not the type of people you would usually lead on to the fact that you are very aware of all things sexual. When watching episodes of tv with them, I will sometimes hold back my laughter due to a dirty joke, or crude comment, a character made in the show. I try to mask my amusement with a blank expression as if I didn’t get that very simple innuendo.
So to all parents of little children, and children ranging from all ages, your kids may know more than you think. With shows like “Jessie” on Disney channel, having a little kid under the age 8 at least, mentioning bras already, kids aren’t to far behind from getting into the basics of the other stuff as well. It’s kind of like trying to shield your kids ears from all the cursing done around you every day. Sometimes you accidentally walk by an enraged person and then a bad word slips from their lips, and you didn’t even have time to create a distraction for your little child. That actually reminds me of something I witnessed the other day at the gym. These men were all upset because one pair of men wanted to use the racket ball court, but another pair of men reserved it. One of them happened to be uttering a curse word in a big bad wolf scary kind of tone, just as a lady and her two adorable little boys passed between them. One of the little boys heard, and got scared and inched a little closer to his mom as they kept on their way. The mom chuckled a little as her voice was still laced with empathy when she asked the little boy “did that scare you?”.
It’s inevitable, we all are going to find out about those kinds of things in life no matter what. We can’t help it, it’s all around us.

Bye readers, I hope you all have a great day :).