Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Daily joy

I am sure most parents will understand what I mean when I say that I have found that once a day my kids do something that makes me happy, and once a day they do something that makes me angry. And once a day they do something that makes me laugh, and once a day they make me want to cry. And they make me frustrated, and proud, and just about every emotion a person can feel. Once a day, or at least once a day. But then there is something they do each day, whether it has been a good day or a bad day, which just amazes me and makes me say, "Man, that's why I love being a parent." Something that makes it all worthwhile, even, and perhaps, especially, on days when you were beginning to wonder.
Today's came at bedtime, when my 7-year old broke into a pretty darn good British accent out of nowhere, and kept it up, even as I asked her where she learned to do that and if she had done it before, and she claimed she had no idea.
Lovely.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

The latest

Quote from my daughter to her friend after school, after I opened her water bottle for her:
"That's what my dad is good for, opening things."

Monday, May 18, 2015

Training Wheels

Last week I got to enjoy one of those great moments parents have - the first day my daughter was able to ride a bike on her own. Yes, we took the training wheels off. And we all learned something in the process.
First, it was a great moment. A beautiful day (finally), so the evening presented us an opportunity to break out the bikes. I wasn't sure my 6-year old, Lulu, would be ready to try without the training wheels, especially since her chances to ride have been few and far between over her brief life, but I had a hunch.
So, she did it. We experienced all of the usual stuff: the holding on, the fear, the negotiating, the letting go, the trust, (both ways), the laughter. And the beautiful moment when I got to let her go on her own and watch.
But there were a couple of surprises. As luck would have it, my ex got to see the moment, because it came at exchange time. That was nice.
She also was able to take some video of the moment on her phone. Great again.
But there was a twist in that as this was going on, my eldest daughter, Elizabeth, was, as she usually is of late, buried in her Ipad, and not showing much interest in what was going on. We all kept urging her to watch but she did it only in spurts. Two-second spurts. Quick glances up from Minecraft.
So in the definitive video of Lulu leaving my hold, taking off on her own, and biking up the driveway, you can hear me say, or maybe shout, "Elizabeth!"
I didn't think much of it the time but when I watched the video I realized all of the colors and tone in my voice when I said that one word.
It was part excitement,  and part attention-grabbing - "Look up - this is it - finally." But it was also part admonishment - "Come on, you're missing it. Pay attention."  Part joy and part disappointment.
And later I was disappointed with myself. Was there too much anger and frustration in my tone? Why? Am I a bad parent? How have I let it come to this that my daughter is so addicted to her Ipad that she can't focus on a wonderful moment like this? What other parent/child/sibling dynamics are going on here?
Such is life and such is parenting. It remains the most challenging, beautiful, frustrating and special thing I do.
So I want to know, when will I be able to take the training wheels off?

Friday, May 8, 2015

Welcome

Hi, my name is Kimball Crossley and this is my new blog, devoted to my upcoming children's picture book, When I am with Dad.