Nothing prepares you for becoming a parent. You can talk to as many people as you want or read all the books there are about it, but none of them will come close to telling you everything you’ll have to deal with as a parent. For example, I’ve talked to a lot of people about parenting and not one of them told me that 14 and 9 year old girls would find the word “balls” hilarious.
I thought that was something that would only happen with little boys…
In my last post, I explored the possibility of doing a more personal post instead of my stream of fiction. I was still on the fence about it until a few days ago, when my wife mentioned that she may take up blogging. As of right now, she hasn’t, but, if she eventually does, the tidbit of information I’m about to share would come out. Although, I’m pretty sure my brother may have mentioned it in one of his posts….
Continue readingI’m no longer a cheer dad.
Her season is over and, unless she changes her mind, Baby E has said that she doesn’t want to do it again next year. That is quite all right with me.
Not only was it expensive (we had to pay league fees, money for her uniform rental, buy her accessories like hair bows, pay admittance to get into the games that she cheered in, and admittance for her competition), but it was also incredibly time consuming. For the first couple of weeks, it wasn’t bad. Just a couple of practices during the week. Once the season started, however, it turned into three practices a week, plus a game on the weekend. On top of that, the two weekends before competition, they added an extra practice on the weekend.
It was too much. And,that’s from me, the guy who only attended games and competition. Mrs. Revis took care of all the practices (not because I didn’t want to or anything, but because practices started before I got home from work). It ran my wife ragged. She’s even more glad that Baby E has said that she doesn’t want to do it next year.
Obviously, a lot can happen between now and then. Maybe she’ll change her mind and want to cheer again. I certainly hope not. But, if she does, her daddy will be there cheering her on.
P.S. For those of you wondering, her team won the competition for her age group. Baby E will soon get a jacket that proclaims that they were the “Grand Champions” for our region.
When it comes to parenting, everyone is different. What may be right for some will be wrong for others. Despite what haters on the internet say, there is no surefire method to raising your children. We each do the best we can and pray it’s good enough.
Or, at least, that’s what I do.
I don’t know if I’ll ever really know how good of a father I am. My beautiful princess will be turning 6 next month, so I still have a long way to go, too. I suppose I’ll leave it up to my wife and daughter to be the judges on that. There aren’t many people’s opinions that mean a whole lot to me, but those two are certainly the most important. No matter what, out of everything that’s happened since she’s been born, I know for a fact that I did at least one thing right.
Every time we drive past a water tower, Baby E will say, “Look, Daddy, a water tower! That’s where the Animaniacs live!”
That’s a win, my friends. That’s a win.
Life with children is very interesting. They’re very good at keeping you on your toes. It gets even more intense as they begin speaking. This is mainly because the things they say will either make you laugh, or make you mad.
Baby E is no exception to this rule. Half the time she’s whining about not getting her way. The other half is spent saying something that makes my day.
Here are a few examples of the latter (there actually should be more here but I keep forgetting to write them down as they happen):
My daughter has been on a kick lately. She’s been wanting to watch nothing except for one particular cartoon. I used to like it. Well, maybe not like it. It wasn’t bad. I used to not hate it, anyways. Now, it’s annoying as hell.
For the past couple of weeks, it’s been nothing but “Doo Doo”. For those of you who don’t know what that is, that’s what Baby E calls Scooby Doo. Although, now she also sometimes calls him “Dooby Doo”. (Feel free to insert pot joke here….) Continue reading
A few days ago, my mother was over at my house visiting. She was sitting on the couch with my wife, while I was sitting in a computer chair next to them. We talked for a few minutes before Baby E ran up and stopped in the middle of all of us. My daughter pointed towards the kitchen and said, “Doo doo.”
The three adults looked at each other in open confusion. We are all fluent in Baby E talk, but none of us knew what she meant by that. Doo doo isn’t a phrase that we use around here. So, I ask her, “What?”
She points to the kitchen again and repeats, “Doo doo.”
We debated amongst ourselves for a few minutes on what she could possibly be talking about, but none of us had a clue. Finally, I tell her to take me to it. Baby E grabbed my finger and led me into the kitchen. She stopped in front of one of our cabinets.
She points to the cabinet and screams, “Doo doo!”
Now, I’m even more confused. The cabinet she was pointing to is the one where we keep our chips, crackers, and other assorted munchables. Was she trying to tell me what happens after eating the contents of that cabinet?
Baby E raised her arms in the universal signal for “pick me up”. I grabbed her and lifted her up in front of the cabinet. She opened the door and pulled something out. I immediately start laughing as she hands me this…
image from walmart.com
33 Grams of Blog 