Parenting is such a strange business.  It is probably the most important thing most humans do, yet it receives the least amount of training. 

When I was younger, I never wanted to have children, as I had been told that kids were a burden, an expense, a disappointment, and they caused problems in marriages. To be honest, I was a great disappointment as a child, and I can’t blame my father for my genuine shortcomings. 

I was a “surprise” seven years after he already had his perfect family of four. I didn’t give him much to brag about.  I was a huge kid, perfect for football.  However, I was clumsy, horribly coordinated, and blind in one eye, making it impossible for me to even catch a ball. He told me he loved me, but his actions demonstrated a different reality.  I’m not here to crap on my father.  He provided me with food and shelter.  He did the best he could; he was just done parenting by the time that I came along.

My head was always in the clouds, always thinking, always solving problems, always exploring scenarios. Mr. Wizard on TV became my virtual dad and hero, and teachers became my cheerleaders. However, the overall message was clear to me. Kids are problems; don’t have them.

I have always wondered how things work, why things work, and how I could modify things to do other things. A weird kid, I know.

That all changed with the birth of my first daughter, Anne.  How could anyone not love that beautiful baby? I realized that my fear of having children was based more on my fear of being a father.  I was a poor-quality son, and somehow that meant that I would be a poor-quality parent. I was terrified that I didn’t have the skills to do the job. I was afraid that I would be an inadequate dad.  How could I teach my child sports when I was so awful at it myself? Isn’t that strange? I focused on the one thing I was terrible at and framed it as the sole necessary ingredient for fatherhood. 

Sometimes marriages are mismatches, and that was the case with my first marriage. We divorced, but I made a commitment to do the best that I could to be a good dad to my daughter. I assumed that she would be my only child. Note to self: never make assumptions.

I dated a number of wonderful women during the years that I was single. I genuinely liked them, but I can’t say that I loved them. I committed to myself that I would not marry again unless I was sure.  This eventually led to the certainty that I would live a single life. Over time, I stopped dating altogether; then I didn’t.

I met my wife by chance, and we hit it off. At the time, she was in the process of earning her PhD, and I was already a medical doctor. We married, but held off having children until she was near the end of her schooling.  She was healthy, and I already had a child, so we were certain that getting pregnant would be a walk in the park. It wasn’t. Pills, shots, procedures- we did it all. Finally, a procedure called IUI was advised. It worked, and we had our first child together, a daughter.  A few years later, we followed the same protocol and had our second daughter together. I was certain that we were done, but we were surprised by a bonus baby, a son whom we named William. 

By then, I knew I couldn’t be a perfect parent, since no perfect parent existed.  All I could be was me.  However, I could be an intentional parent.  But what was my goal?  My objective in parenting?  It was simple.  It was my responsibility to raise my children to be successful adults.  That was it, one goal, one mission. You may have your own idea of what successful means.  Perhaps it involves a title, a job description, or a salary. In other words, something tangible.  That was not my definition.  For me, it meant they would be able to support themselves financially.  That they had the tools and education to accomplish what they wanted to do.  That they were critical thinkers and not sheep.  That they had healthy self-esteem and faith in themselves, but not the false self-esteem created by the idea that everyone gets a participation award. That they had the life skills to function as an adult, and that they were kind and compassionate human beings who realized how fortunate they were and how some others were not. It was their responsibility to use their gifts and abilities to move the world in a positive direction, even if that movement would be minuscule. 

Of all, being kind was the most important.  When I was young, adults would remark how kind I was.  I was never a tough kid the way a boy “should” be. I worried about others, I could sense their distress, I wanted to help them. I saw my kindness as a great weakness, a flaw. Another imperfection that made me different. However, I came to realize that it was one of my great strengths. Treating others with respect opens the world, and the act itself makes the planet a better place for all. 

How did I accomplish my parenting goal?  I tried to be a good parent.  I tried to be reliable. I admitted to them when I didn’t know something. I taught them what I knew.  How to cook, how to fix things, how to camp, how to see the wonderment that is all around us, how to be grateful. How to be creative, how to critically examine information, how to be kind, how to give back, how to love, how to respect, how to put yourself in someone else’s shoes, and so on.

I let them know how much they were loved, but I also had expectations for them.  Those were not expectations to make me look good, they were expectations to use the gifts that they were given to their fullest. This is what I could do for them; it would have to be enough.

I have a deep, never-ending love for all four of my children and savor the times when we can all be together.  Those events bring me joy. However, I also love those rarer situations when I can spend time with just one of them.  Each child is a bit different, yet amazing in their own regard.

My son is the only child still at home.  He is constantly busy with his social life and pursuit of a PhD. My wife works some evenings, and these are often times when William and I spend some time together. We will make dinner together and sit down and talk. The worm has turned, and he is more up to date on scientific theory and procedure than I am, but I’m still capable of contributing to the conversation. At other times, we may talk about world events, my life, his life, or even his friends.  I’m interested in their lives, too, as they move into adulthood and follow so many different paths. 

My son is smart, actually very smart, and approaches complex topics with a relaxed ease.  He is a social creature who easily makes friends, so he always has a story to tell of an adventure or to relate. Most importantly, he is kind.  I can’t think of a time when he was deliberately mean to another person.  He treats people with respect, and he treats me with respect.  I do the same to him, as he is no longer the kid I taught to fix an outside faucet or cook a steak over an open campfire. 

A few months ago, he wanted me to watch one of his favorite movies, “Dune.” We did this to our mutual enjoyment, and at the end we decided to continue the franchise by watching “Dune Part 2.”  Life got in the way, and that never happened.  The other day, at dinner, William said, “Dad, if we don’t schedule “Dune 2,” we will never watch it.  I agreed and pulled out my calendar.  We would do it the following Tuesday, as Julie would be working that evening and we could have a boys’ night. Naturally, it would involve food, a menu suitable for such an occasion.

On Monday I went to Aldi and picked up some brats, buns, potato salad, a can of pork and beans, and some chips.  I couldn’t find sauerkraut for the brats, but Julie kindly stopped by the little store around the corner from her office to pick some up for the event. We were all set.

Aldi only had this enormous box of brats. If I made six, we would have enough for dinner, Julie, and even the next day’s lunch. What to do with the other six?

Yep, I had to make a plug for using a vacuum sealer. The other six are safe and sound in the freezer for another day.

The day before, William suggested that I crack open the bottle of Angel’s Envy bourbon that he gave me for Father’s Day. Dear reader, I’m not much of a drinker.  In fact, I’m a lightweight when it comes to any alcohol.  However, I do like a rare shot of bourbon on occasion. A few years back, Julie and I were trying to salvage a vacation and spontaneously decided to travel Kentucky’s bourbon trail. It was there that I discovered Angel’s Envy and its silky smooth delivery. Julie bought a bottle, but I never remembered to replace it when it finally emptied. Ever listening, William remembered this and thought it would be a nice Father’s Day gift. Sort of an adult son to his “old man” Father’s Day present. 

William worked from home on Tuesday as he was learning a piece of software that analyzes gene sequences.  By 5 PM, he was done for the day, and the two of us set about the task of making dinner.  Into a pot went the brats.  Out from the fridge came the potato salad; into another pot went the pork and beans, which I added some mustard, catsup, maple syrup, and bacon bits. The table was set with paper plates, and dinner was served. Conversation followed as we talked about our day.

I like to par-cook the brats before putting them on the grill. This pot has a can of beer, water, and some onion flakes. Real onion would work too. The trick is to only simmer the brats (do not boil) for around 20 minutes. At that point, they will be fully cooked and ready to crisp on the grill.

On the grill, they went to brown up.

My mom always “doctored up” canned pork and beans. I do the same with a little mustard, catsup, maple syrup (or brown sugar), and bacon. Yum!

A perfect guy’s dinner. Brats with mustard and sauerkraut. Beans, potato salad, and chips. Of course, we served it on a paper plate. Who wants to wash more dishes than they have to?

We worked together to clean up and then had a short break before we started the movie.  I poured a couple of shots of Angel’s Envy for the big event.  It felt strange pouring a drink for my son, but he is 25 and no longer a kid.  To be clear, we had one drink each.  It felt more ceremonial rather than anything else.

We each had one shot of Angle’s Envy. It was more ceremonial than anything else.

It had been months since we had seen “Dune 1” so William filled me in on the story as I already had forgotten large portions of it.  “Dune 2” is a long movie, at times slow moving, yet engaging.  Since it was only the two of us we were free to banter as he reminded me of the various roles and motives of the characters. For sure, it was an enjoyable evening.

In this commercialized world we are told that the best parents offload parenting by sending their kids to classes and summer camps.  Every child must go to Disneyland, fly in a plane, have  catered birthday parties, wear designer clothing.  Honestly, I think that all of that is BS.  A child should spend time with their parents.  Parents should teach their children how to act, how to critically think, how to celebrate life.  Time with you kids doesn’t have to involve the use of a platinum credit card.  Playing a game, going on a hike or bike ride, critically examining a news story.  For me, those activities are more valuable.

As a child I learned that children were a burden.  As an adult, I discovered that they were a joy.  Kids are not a bonus designed to make parents look good.  They do require quite a bit of time, effort, and money.  Isn’t that the case with many things that we deem valuable? 

My evening with William may seem ordinary to you, but for me it was priceless. As he ages there will be less of these special times, but it is my hope that there will be some.

Peace

Mike

A photo of William and me from a father/son camping trip that we took a year or two ago.