Abbey
And They Love Their Daddy
Walking into the house for the first time with our new baby Annie was an experience that defies description. Both of us were over the moon. We were parents! We weren’t parents yesterday, but we were today. Now there were three of us in the home. We were a family, not just a couple.
I felt that same rush of exhilaration with the birth of each of our five children. One by one they joined our family until the house was full of the competing sounds coming from all five of them. That was a truly joyful noise. (Pardon the misapplied quote.)
As a brand new dad I didn’t have one practical clue about what it meant to be a father to my child. Don’t confuse the last statement to mean I was without role models, Scriptural direction, or the myriads of available books and articles at my fingertips. No. What I mean is I had no experience what-so-ever at being in the trenches. None!
It didn’t take too long for me to begin to see a pattern that each of our children went through starting from their births. When Annie did it I wasn’t sure what to do. When Aaron came along and presented the same behavior it wasn’t new to me, but still confusing. By the time Abbey arrived and modeled the behavior I knew what I was dealing with. Amber and Amy both did the same as their older siblings, but by then it was old news and expected.
Initially I wasn’t prepared for each of my children to ignore me. Well, that’s what it looked like and felt like in the beginning of things. I understood how the baby was going to be bonding with Marm since she had carried her/him around all those months. I understood in-my-head. Since we were products of the “Natural Childbirth” revolution all our babies were breastfed. This obviously added to that strong bond between mom and baby. This part was easy and explainable. What was hard to accept was even after 18 months or more I was still not a favored choice. I was the proverbial “chopped liver”. Dad is fine, but mom is the world. It was easy to feel left out. They all had ignored me, one after the other.
What was I doing wrong? Was I supposed to be doing something differently? Why doesn’t my child want me? Am I a bad father? Maybe I’m messing this whole thing up?
All very reasonable lines of thinking back then, but completely off the mark. Nothing could have been further from the truth. It all became crystal clear to me one evening when Abbey was about 18-20 months old.
It was routine to find a massive ball of intertwined arms, legs, bodies, and clothing all tangled up together in the middle of our living room each night before dinner. Annie, Aaron, and I would wrestle together once I got home from work. There was hollering, and shouting. Laughing and squeals of delight pierced our ears continually as they jumped all over me. It was so much fun, and dangerous too. We weren’t known for our gentleness when it came to attacking each other. Truth be told it always seemed to end with someone getting hurt and tears would flow.
I remember the first time Abbey wanted to join in the fray.
“Abbey’s watching you,” Marm said from the doorway. “I think she wants to play.”
“She’s too little and will get hurt if she wrestles with us,” was my lame-husband-not-wanting-to-tone-it-down response.
“Play with her,” Marm insisted. “She wants to play too, just don’t be so rough.”
I pulled Annie and Aaron over to the side and told them, “Abbey is going to wrestle with us. We need to be extra careful around her so we don’t squish her, or pounce on her, or hit her accidentally.”
They both understood completely, and the game of four began. It was so sweet watching the two older kids helping Abbs pounce on me. They made sure when all three of them jumped on me to give her extra room to fall flat on my back so she wouldn’t roll off. Abbey loved it and was grinning from ear-to-ear. I was so proud of Annie and Aaron for being such a great sister and brother to Abbs. It was a wonderful time, and I saw the kids learning how to have fun, and include baby sis too. That wasn’t the only thing I saw however. I had an epiphany.
My kids didn’t ignore me, they just hadn’t grown up enough to start bonding with me more intentionally. I wasn’t “chopped liver” after all. I hadn’t messed up somehow, or messed them up either.
With all the 24/7 nursing, the nap time in laps, the sleeping in bed next to mom, and the being packed around the house, of course they would be more attached to Marm. I just had to be patient. That night when Abbey was ready to join in with us, she was the one who changed. After that, she was part of the gang and was continually finding time for me ever after. Later I watched for it in Amber and Amy, and looked back over Annie and Aaron. All of my kids had done the same thing.
Dads! You. Are. Not. Crazy. You do see this. It’s not your imagination. It’s as natural as can be. Relax! You have done nothing wrong. On the contrary, all is well and is as it should be. Brace yourselves because very soon they will be toddling your way wanting a deeper relationship with you, Why? It’s simple. You’re their Daddy, and they love their Daddy.
Enjoy!
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The Real Need Was In The Little Things
What do rain, rhinos, overcast, lions, wind, giraffes, trees, birds, and bugs all have in common? Right! The Oregon Zoo of course.
There is no experience that compares to a trip to the Oregon Zoo. Where else can you go where the wind blows continually, the rain falls hard and sideways, and you get all the aromatic scent of animal dung you could wish for at a price? Yep! The zoo.
What’s even more astounding than this? Well, we actually have willingly participated in this endeavour multiple times over the years.
“It’s for the kids,” we say as we examine our heads while thinking through the rationale behind taking these excursions. Really! It’s for the kids? “Ha!” I say. It’s not just for the kids, it’s because there is something alluring about wild beasts. We like them… a lot! Maybe they will be active, alert, and loud. Nothing like a good monkey chase going on, or lions roaring like crazy. Hippos playing in the pond under our noses, and the elephants wide awake, outside, and frisky. We love it all!
What we don’t love are all the people who are doing the same thing we are, and all at the same time. “Are all the malls closed today and everyone thought a zoo trip would be a good idea?”
Seriously! Why today of all days?
In the end it doesn’t matter. All the people and all the elements are not enough to daunt us. We will persevere and even return to do it again in the future. After all, it’s the zoo. Of course we will be back.
I have to admit that once the kids are older it is a bit more fun. Having them sitting in a stroller as a toddler looking at some fuzz on their blanket isn’t quite why we came. If you had multiple kids like we did, you had the pleasure of having both the older and toddler age kids all at once.
I remember one trip to this wonderland when my heart stopped and fear froze me in place for a moment. The thing about lots of people means being vigilant about where all the kids are at every moment. There is so much bustling going on that the idea that one of the kids may have wandered off was alarming to me. That was something Marm and I were concerned about, and it kept us on constant alert.
We had had a great time roaming around the place. We had seen most of the exhibits and were on the downhill side of the large loop that took us past all the critters. I think all that was left to see were the penguins, bats, and maybe another something-or-other. As we made our way into the bat cave, no pun intended, all of us were in a tight group. Annie and Aaron were seven and five, and Abbey was not quite two.
The two older kids were free to move around and were staring intently into the large glass enclosed cage which housed the myriads of bats. Abbey was safely strapped into the stroller and just a step or so away. I have to admit, it was really fascinating to watch all those bats. Some were hanging upside down and asleep, while others were flitting from here to there. The bats definitely were holding our attention. We were glued to them and their ghoulish antics.
Suddenly an ear-piercing scream cuts through everything. In an instant I knew it was Abbey. I didn’t know why she was screaming, only that she was screaming. In that brief moment of paralyzing fear my mind immediately went to… she’s being snatched by someone.
I was instantly ready to hurt somebody if they were trying to take our baby! As I spun around to see who might be there I saw no one. I was confused for a moment at why she was screaming. She hadn’t stopped yet and it was getting worse. Both Marm and I dashed over to her and I remember not seeing any reason for her to be so upset.
Marm saw it first, and pointed. There sitting pretty as you please on the edge of Abbey’s stroller was some sort of small fly. To Abbey it must have seemed like the biggest and nastiest flying bug she had ever seen. She was completely undone.
I waved my hands to make it leave, and It flew away with no fanfare at all. Marm immediately rescued Abbey from the stroller. As Marm was soothing Abbey I was recovering from all the commotion. I remember thinking that a little bug like that shouldn’t be that big of a deal. After all, I was just about to hurt someone if she was being taken from us. Now that would have been a big deal. This small bug looked tame in comparison.
I watched Marm as she held Abbey, talked to her, and loved on her. I made note of how she was making sure our little girl felt safe and protected.
At times I could get caught up in the “big” thing like, “someone taking our child”, and would miss the little thing like, “comforting them” when I thought it wasn’t too big a deal. Marm knew what was important and was doing it. A good lesson for me to learn early as our kids continued to grow. Often times the real need was in the little things.
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The Day I Was Done and Gave My Daughters Away.
I remember all the feelings I had as we stood at the back of the runner. Breathe I told myself. Soak in every moment, every step. Don’t be in a hurry. It will go so fast and you won’t have another chance like this with her. It was hard to believe it had already come to this.
Several months later as we stood atop the flight of outdoor stairs I had the same rush of feelings tearing at me as before. Breathe I ordered myself again. Soak in every moment, every step. Don’t trip and don’t miss the smallest detail of this walk. I knew it was going to pass by so quickly and I felt like I had no time to get my feet under me.
I was ready for this and yet, completely unprepared for this, all at the same time. So many memories and thoughts running through my head as I walked down that aisle and stairway. So many things I wanted to say. So many things there was no time to say. In the blink of an eye it would be over and everything will have changed forever. Nothing would ever be like it was before.
As a new father I had no idea what to expect. I really had no clue. I had no idea that the long nights would really be LONG. I knew nothing of being mature and consistent as the dad. I had no idea how much fun my kids could be, and what memories we would make together throughout all their childhood years. I didn’t have much confidence in myself about being a good dad at all. I was scared at times. Not scared of the unknown, but scared about myself and what I was capable of as their father.
I didn’t know how deeply I would love my children. How could I until the little buggers were filling up the house? I was in way over my head, but was loving being their dad. No other man had the inside track that I had to these wonderful people. No other man would have them calling for him to come and tuck them into bed at night. No other man would hug them as dad, or kiss them as dad, or whatever them as dad. I got all of that. It was mine. I was Daddy.
I watched them grow, and mature. I watched them stumble, fall, skin their knees both literally and figuratively. I watched them grow in their faith and commitment. I watched them struggle as they wrestled with who they are as people. I watched, and watched, and watched.
Marm and I were so vigilant about being present with the kids. “Don’t miss the time as it passes”, was our mantra. We took to heart the sage old advice of those who had gone before us.
“Pay attention! The time passes so quickly.”
We worked hard at being there for the kids. They were an inseparable part of our family fabric and were woven deeply into its tapestry.
So how did it come to this already? How in the world did I get here? I paid attention. I was involved. I was there. I watched and participated. How did it come to this so soon?
In a mere few minutes my daughters would no longer be just mine. Their hearts had been given to other men. They were pledging their entire lives to these men, and I watched it happen, or in my case, helped in the process.
I was being asked, “Who gives this woman…?” and I was simply to say, “Her Mother and I.” That’s it? A whole life time together and in one simple statement of release she is gone from me forever.
I know it was what we wanted for them. What we prayed about and prepared for, for them. It was the right thing for them. The best thing for them. The blessed thing for them. There was no denying it, nor would I try. I wanted this for them all along. It was just…just… just that it happened right under my nose when I wasn’t looking. Well, maybe I was looking, but just wasn’t prepared for how I would feel on those two days when I was done and gave my daughters away.
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About Balrogs and Daughters
In-laws. There’s a word.
In this instance I am referring to my daughter’s spouses. As loving and dutiful parents we pray for the wonderful people our children will someday marry, God willing. We ask Jesus to “grow em up real good like”. The thing is…there is no guarantee. There is trust that the Lord has heard our prayers, not a small thing, and the understanding that He has our kids best interests at heart. Again, not a small thing. Still we as the parents are not in control of these events. A lesson better learned sooner.
Being the dad I was used to my wife having that mama-bear-thing going on when some misinformed person actually had the audacity to take on one our kids. Big mistake. Huge! What I never expected was what I felt when my daughters were more than just serious about a guy. The hidden papa-bear-thing awakened unexpectedly from the deep. Picture the balrog in the mines of Moria from The Fellowship of the Ring and you begin to get a glimpse.
Before I go any further, however, please allow me set the record straight. Both of my daughter’s husbands are amazing men. I love them both dearly and for two main reasons: 1. They are exceptional men of honor, and 2. They love and treat our girls well.
None-the-less…it still took some time for the taming of the balrog.
Ever see the movie Father of the Bride? I have because I have four daughters. I felt just like George Banks did.
“Dad! I met a man and we fell in love and we’re getting married.”
Says who? thinks the balrog. Never mind my daughter Annie was an adult successfully living on her own for a few years. (Don’t confuse the issue with the facts.) Oh, and Abbey, she had been dating her fella for years. No surprise there. Still, there was the balrog with his protective low growl simmering just below the surface; watching and waiting patiently.
Oh I was all smiles and lighthearted for sure, but I was eyeing these men like a hawk. I was ready to bring down the fire whip if needed.
As it turned out there was no need. Darn it. That could have been really fun. Instead, I found myself liking both these gents immensely. Totally different in personalities, totally different in temperaments, totally different in interests and hobbies at certain levels, yet both perfectly suited for our girls. They were the direct answer to our prayers in an overwhelmingly big way.
Annie married Tristan, and Abbey married Tom. Tristan took the family by storm, while Tom took the slow and steady approach to winning us over. Both have succeeded unconditionally. We couldn’t have better sons-in-law if we growed ’em ourselves.
Now there are four men in the family and the odds are shifting to a more even playing field. It’s no longer just Aaron and myself holding down the male side of the family fort. We are four strong with opportunity to be six someday.
I do feel for the men who want to marry Amber and Amy in the future. I think there may be four low growling balrogs circling below just waiting for an opportunity to rise from the depths. I wonder if these yet-to-be-known fellas have ever heard about balrogs and daughters?
It’s a good thing they are in our prayers.
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When Matters of the Heart Collide with Matters of Principle
Straight up: Parenting is hard.
Years ago Dr. James Dobson penned a book entitled “Parenting Isn’t for Cowards”. An apt title to sum up the reality of helping our kids navigate their growing up years. All we want for our kids is that they be happy, healthy, mature, productive adults who are capable of leading their own lives successfully. For those of us in the Christian community we want all of the above, and most importantly, a vital relationship with Jesus himself. So…
What do I do when one of my core principles is challenged by a serious matter of the heart from one of my kids?
Abbey had successfully finished her 8th grade year and was in the 1st quarter of high school. All of her academic life had been spent at the same local Christian school. Her two older siblings had graduated from this school and she was the next in line to do the same. I was a teacher at the school and would spend 10 years on staff there. I wasn’t prepared for what was unfolding at the time. Abbey was miserable. It wasn’t the school itself, but the circumstances that surrounded her at the time.
With the exception of one close and dear friend who attended the school with her, she was basically alone and her situation seemed impossible. All of her other peers were attending the local public high school and that’s where she wanted to be. This is a common challenge with privately schooled kids. The ol’ grass is greener thing. At the surface this looked much the same. It wasn’t.
You’d have to know Abbey in order to know why this was so different. Of all of our five kids Abbey was the one who never fought us over things. No fits. No tantrums. She told us once that even though she disliked taking naps when she was younger, she did it because that’s what we asked her to do. Who does that? Right? Abbey did.
At the time all of this was happening Abbey was involved in an active and productive youth group. Meeting together was not just a social time for these kids. This particular group was hungry for Jesus and his Spirit. They were passionate about serving him, and they did it together as a group. They were a true spiritual force. These were the peers at the public high school, and the reason she wanted to make the change in schools.
Four of our kids have been home-schooled to one degree or another, and all five of them have attended private school at some point. The challenge for me was my world view about education. Simply put: I see Jesus in all education. Unfortunately, much of the Christian faith has been removed from public education by virtue of the law of the land, or its interpretation. This left little room for me and my world view.
I was torn. Abbey didn’t want to go to the public high school because of some shallow reason. She wanted to go where she felt she would thrive spiritually because of her peer group. This was a watershed moment for her and I was feeling the full weight of the crossroads I faced.
Oft times we parents are required to hold the line in the face of our children’s contrary preferences. It’s here that matters of principle outweigh the matters of selfishness, immaturity, or desire. Our collective experience and wisdom are supposed to guide us through these moments. Mine was failing me, or so I thought at the time. The decision should have been simple, clear-cut, rudimentary. It wasn’t.
I won’t lie to you about what I was feeling then. Right or wrong I was worried about how it would look if I let my daughter go to the public high school. I wondered what my colleagues at the private school would think of me. I wondered what members of the board for the school would think. I wondered if my reputation as a believer would become suspect, or tarnished in some way. Would I be perceived as wishy-washy in my beliefs, or faithless. All real concerns I had to face; all applying their own pressure to the situation. I was praying for wisdom and guidance. This was my daughter here, not a new car or refrigerator. This really mattered.
It wasn’t too long and I got my answer. It didn’t come as a lightening bolt or any such similar experience. It came in remembering what our priorities were in raising our kids. What matters the most is what is best for each child individually. So what was best for Abbey in this situation? Was it Christian based education? Was it a matter of doing what her siblings did in the past? Was it about my peers and their possible opinions of me? Was it about my principles? Not this time. This was about Abbey and how to help her flourish. Setting everything less important aside, the decision was simple after all. Abbey needed that passionate peer group where she was thriving in so many ways. That’s what really mattered, so we transferred her the next quarter.
Parenting is hard. It pushes us. It stretches us. It makes us grow up if we let it. One of the hardest things for me to catch on to was remembering what is most important when matters of the heart collide with matters of principle. Need I say it?
Curls & Capes 