Single Dad

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Just When My Positivity Was Peaking Along Came a Spider

Let me take a moment to compose myself because I love myself and I don’t want to find myself in a situation that diminishes myself to uncharacteristic actions that will define myself.

People can be very narrow-minded.

I am tired of how baby daddies are continuing to get beat up as a whole based on the actions of a few. When a father desires to see his kids and takes it upon himself to remove his child from a situation he considers dangerous or unhealthy why is he deemed the monster? Or when another father takes his kids from the mother because he is being held back from seeing his kids the father is a kidnapper? However, some mothers will do the same thing but without the titles. We all believe fair is fair and we all desire equality.

In a recent discussion there was an article about a police “manhunt” in search of a father that left his home city with his child; a manhunt mind you, expending who knows how much money to apprehend a man with his unharmed child. Yet, there was another news item where the woman did the same thing but was painted very different (the article stated: “…mother and baby were found healthy…”). There was no mention of a manhunt nor did there seem to be equal sentiment toward the perpetrators. Yet it is considered illegal as well.

What gives?

I do not condone illegal activities. I do not like when bad acting people do bad things. But I also don’t appreciate how we so easily lump individuals into categories to fit our own perception of people. Not all men are dead beats and not all women are Mother Teresa. Therefore, we should be careful to look at each situation individually as best we can before passing judgment.

Scenario: Man takes his own child away from mother and a manhunt ensues. Woman takes child away from the father and questions come up, “what did the man do to provoke her?”

Let’s either treat the cases equally or look at them individually before we move to how we think about the individuals at hand.

It is an unfortunate situation we have put our children in – broken homes and separated families – therefore, it will take more for us to move pass the emotional baggage that hold us back from giving our children the benefit of being in the lives of both parents equally. Get with it folks.

There are always two sides to the story so let’s see both sides as objectively as we can before we pass judgment, especially when it is continuously against the man. I’m just saying…

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O-M-G! Am I Really Incapable of Love?

What if you discovered something about yourself that was so hideous, villainous, outrageous and terrifying that it pained you to think about it? What if you woke up one day looked in the mirror and discovered you were the boogeyman, albeit wearing a nice crisp Kenneth Cole shirt with Levi straight legs? What then would you do as you left your humble abode to venture out into the world exposed for all to see? What if? Accept what has become? Push it aside as a non-truth? Or face it head on?

In a recent conversation about L-O-V-E (I shudder at the mere mention of the “L” word) I was the Peanut Gallery throwing small bombs of negativity. In true fashion to my pessimistic, sarcastic, and insensitive characteristics I had difficulty answering the simple statement.

L-O-V-E is _________.

Of course I could have wordsmith and found a very poetic description to fill in the blank. Or I could have quoted Biblical scriptures stating the prescribed definition – say it with me you scholars – I Corinthians 13:4. I might even make light of the moment and awkwardly provide a voice of humor sheepishly masking my real feelings. But the real challenge for me was I could not answer honestly. Maybe it’s just me or maybe some of you have gone through this. But how do you answer a question if you are unsure of the context? Better yet, is it possible that we don’t know what we don’t know?

And I may not know what love is. I don’t mean the love I have for my children, or my parents and siblings. Or the love I have for my friends. Or even the love I have for my cats. But what about love for a significant other?

In my marriage I often felt I was out of my league with love. My past relationships were brief compared to others. I never really engaged with another human being on such a deep level that I found myself shallow of thought. Yet, I felt encouraged and hopeful because I had seen an example of love through my own parents. I also believed in love as I was growing up. But something happened and my beliefs were shattered. I felt ill equipped to nurture my loved one as needed or to show compassion when required. I was headed for a bad turn and I didn’t see any way around it. And there it was – THUMP! I hit a wall of despair and my marriage and family crumbled. In the accident I was relieved of all sympathetic thought and any desire to show another human being love.

Therefore, I became incapable of holding onto one of the greatest gifts to mankind. Maybe I held onto the pain of a bad breakup time and again. Or the loss of my puppy as a child deterred me from loving again. I have felt there is nothing harder to overcome in life than the sadness caused by broken dreams. I have been depleted of emotion giving way to a shell of my former self in an effort to protect. In the long run I know this is an unhealthy place to be. Therefore, I recognize where I am and I move forward in correcting this trait.

I can love again.

If I focus on fixing ME the rest will follow. We all hear and many of us ascribe to the idea that we must be made whole. Making ourselves whole is a matter of discipline and introspection. It might be a painful process in the beginning but the results will be magnificent. Butterflies aren’t born beautiful they evolve. And so must I. Musicians George Benson and Whitney Houston (rest in peace) sang it best in the song The Greatest Love of All – “Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all.”

This sounds like a good starting point for me.

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Cheerios in My Pockets

As I came into work this morning I grabbed a bag I hadn’t used in some time. When I got into the office and pulled the small bag from my computer bag much to my surprise I found something…

A few remnants of cheerios.

These small morsels have been there for a while. I’m certain they were there when my babies were…literally…babies. It made me smile and I realized how I missed them at that precious age. I’m sure many women can relate. I wonder if men relate to this as well – I know I feel sentimental when I am reminded of my kids during the early years. The time passes by so fast. Enjoy it for sure.

To our kiddos! Love them to pieces.

Daddy Dan

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Sexual Performance Indicator©

I am a finely tuned Maserati blasting on all cylinders. When you hit my gas and push my clutch I perform as I was meant to – full, unadulterated, lasting pleasure. I am a magician in the driver seat seducing you beyond expectations and fantasies. I give you all I got to push you over the limit and feel your blood rush through every vein as you scream with…well, you know the rest.

Then I wake up. Another day. It is time to go make the donuts.

In a recent online conversation I had you would think every man was built like a Maserati when it comes to sexual performance. When it comes to pleasing your loved one…your mate…no, your dip…well, uh, or even your just-for-the-moment chick all of us men believe we are masters of orgasms. Yet, according to some studies the majority of women rarely have orgasms during sexual intercourse. As a side, this number decreases if the woman has first read 50 Shades of Grey (but that’s for a later discussion). Thus, which one of our species is off base; the well-tuned, well-defined hunk of a man or the chick?

We are aware of the facts – we just choose to ignore them.

The challenge here is a man’s ego. Well, frankly, my ego. I, like any man, want to know that I provide pleasure to my woman. I want to believe that during the act of making love (and yes, I like this phrase better than using “sex”) I make her feel special, appreciated, comfortable, and desired. Thus, when I do make her feel all of these things it pumps up my ego – and we all know how fragile a man’s ego can be. But how do I really rate on the scale of sexual performance? Is my 60 minute sexual performance just in my mind and the reality is a mere 5? Inquiry minds need to know. My bright idea is to create some type of measure, a way to gauge how good the sex is. Maybe create some type of indicator that moves up and down (no pun intended) during performance.

A Sexual Performance Indicator (trademarked hereinafter).

This indicator idea is a bit tricky. It is a valiant effort to introduce the indicator to our bedrooms or kitchens or living rooms or public restrooms but it needs to be tested for accuracy. We cannot allow us men to tamper with such a device; this will skew the results. There is no need to trick our women into believing they just experienced the performance of their lifetime, or at least until the next performance comes along. We should just keep it real. And I believe I nearly have the device invented. Or, I can suggest we introduce another way to measure our performance. It is more of an old fashioned way – a way which focus’ less on devices and more on judgment. We can ask our partner for feedback. Gasp.

When we get feedback it opens us up to critique. Criticism is the number one killer of ego cells in America. It is hard to overcome. It can make a grown man cry. It can make a human withdraw. It can hurt. Yet, knowing an area of our lives that could use an enhancer we might actually find ourselves in a better, ahem…position to perform (there goes more puns). It takes a strong individual to listen to criticism and then make adjustments. There is nothing wrong with that. I, for one am willing to swallow my pride, take it where it hurts, and go with the flow to improve in an area of life that we seldom want to speak of – our sexual performance.

If this doesn’t work I will have the SexPi™ available soon for a mere $19.95 (shipping and handling not included).

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Did I Get Married for the Wrong Reasons?

When I was a boy discovering my sexual appetite all I did every day was to stare at every female booty on this planet. You know, hormones kicked in. And it wasn’t so much I wanted to have sex with any booty that jiggled but I had a deeper, more complex plan. I was beginning to look for the perfect woman, companion, and confidant that I could not only share my inner most secrets but someone who would not judge me for my weirdness – someone who, frankly…could make me some beautiful babies to carry on my legacy.

sex appeal

Yup, that was it. A nicely hourglass-shaped, physically appealing specimen that would do the work of housing, ahem, I mean, carrying my unborn children; a woman that would become the incubator for my chicks. A conduit in which my babies would come out and look at me and say, “Hey Daddy Dan, I’m here to carry on your good name!” Thus, it wasn’t sex alone that drove me to marriage but the desire to carry on a legacy through offspring. Every man has this desire to see his “shorty” carry on the family name even if from afar. Little did I know my incubator would want something more? I was bamboozled.

I wasn’t really bamboozled. I was in love. Yes, some might consider my view of my potential wife shallow and short-sighted. But I did want children. Women have a tendency to choose a mate, usually a father, based on some physical attributes. It has been proven when women search they desire a man that is six-foot two, built like Adonis, and can beat somebody down when provoked. This is not merely for the woman’s own viewing pleasure and sexual appetite, but it suggests when they have kids the kids will have the traits of the father. The man would be strong yet sensitive, sensual and trusting, yet tough and resilient. Truth be told, men view future baby-mama’s in somewhat similar fashion. Does she have nice child-bearing hips? Is she built proportionately? Or does she have some other physical attribute important to the man that ultimately will determine an important element about that child?

As we venture through this subconscious path of desires, reality usually steps in and brings us back down to Earth. We are generally happy about our babies once they’re born. We care less and less as our babies mature and we pray they are healthy and capable. And we also find some deeper connection and love for the woman that produced the baby for us and she is no longer just the vessel that contained this life form until its birth.  We men do understand the importance of the role.

Thus, it isn’t all about marrying the type of woman that is going to provide you with kids that you subconsciously desire but also a woman in whom can be a good parent. Men desire someone that is a partner and can assist in the duties of child rearing. You want someone that is capable of raising and nurturing a small human being to be the best person they can be.

Concluding, I didn’t marry for the wrong reason, but it was one of many reasons; although, it is a big reason and should not go unnoticed. However, through maturity, that reason – how good of a child can my future spouse and mother of my kids provide me – is less and less important. More important is the love I have for my kids even in the midst of a marriage gone bad. For they are still the legacy afforded to me from a Higher calling. And I am pleased.

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Chronicles of a Divorced Dad: Co-parenting is Difficult at Best

I had to drop my son off to his mom’s apartment after tutoring. He was not feeling well so I had to get there a little early because of his illness. I gathered up his belongings and we headed to the car. As we got to his mom’s place and we were about to get out of the car he had a tear in his eye. I asked him “what’s wrong?” He explained he was sad because he wasn’t feeling well. I assured him it was okay and not to worry about stuff you can’t control. I gave him a big hug and he headed down the hall towards the elevator.

As I turned around and started to leave – I was overcome with a familiar feeling, that same feeling I get on a weekly basis, that feeling of sadness. I was reminded of my situation and what it means to be a divorced father of two. A divorced dad. Not fun.

This feeling is not anything you want to deal with but you deal with it. It is re-living a painful death on a weekly basis. Many a man has to deal with this feeling and most people don’t understand. You’re a man. You’re supposed to be strong. You deal with it, damnnit! You must prevail over your emotions.

You are overcome with the feeling. That feeling that says I wanna be there for my boy because he’s not well, or with my daughter just so I can be there when she wakes up, or knowing that she sleeps with a picture of me by her side. Those simple things we don’t much think about or we take for granted the love our kids have for each parent. And we deal with the difficult feelings these acts bring. Co-parenting and raising kids separately is difficult at best.

Not an easy task by any means even if you have the support of loved ones.

We have painful reminders we encounter as we go through life’s challenges and the effects they have on us. We have difficult emotions to overcome especially when you are handicapped in dealing with them – unspoken depression, machoism, or just being a man.

But somehow we do overcome the emotions. Us divorced dads. Us single dads – although, we don’t use this terminology much, we leave that for the women. Men like me continue to do what we have to do, pay the support we are ordered to pay, and try to be in the lives of our kids because that’s what we do. It is what we were born to do. And many of us men accept this challenge.

We do this week after week even in spite of the feelings we experience. Talking to no one about it. We all experience that familiar feeling, that slowly painful death as we are separated from our growing kids. However, at the end of the day, we are thankful of being with our kids if only for that moment. And we find the strength to go forward just to experience the euphoria and the letdown all in the same breadth. It is for the love of our kids.

Daddy Dan

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Family and the Single Dad: Why I can’t wait till summer vacation!

When did public schools around the country start giving standardized tests for 3rd and 4th grade? At what point did homework seem to consume so much of a parent’s time? Who does Algebra at the age of 10? Did I miss the memo for these life changes? Apparently I did. Having kids at my age has made me reflect on how involved my parents were with my school work when I was the same age as my own kids. I am glad that I have half a brain to figure out the correct answers. Are you Smarter than a 5th Grader? Uh, well, probably not so much.

I have always said if I had my kids when I was in my twenties I would have had more energy and time; however, I have found myself with more wisdom and money by having kids in my forties. It’s an interesting exchange of priorities – time and energy versus money and wisdom. Now I have to add education into the mix. I might have had a fresher outlook for schooling in my twenties – thus able to focus better, help my children with their school work, and understand the problems presented. My current attributes are patience, empathy, and compassion. Life is always filled with irony and decisions, and homework in my household has not escaped this dilemma.

I am not in the same household as my children’s mother making it more challenging to assist in the duties of homework. This shared responsibility is a bit more taxing today versus what I remember as I grew up. With the divorce rates pushing nearly 60% I wonder how many of us parents struggle to deal with this changing landscape of education. I’m happy we did not go down the road of homeschooling because I can only imagine the challenges that present themselves as a person goes through a divorce. It seems an impossible task. Time commitments and dedication to my child’s education is exacerbated because of the separation but it is necessary.

My own parents were fairly bright individuals but I honestly don’t recall sitting and going over my homework assignments with them. I will have to ask them. I do remember they were very busy and there was very little time to assist me and my many siblings with much of anything – coming from a big family will do this. I suppose a smaller family unit might have a different dynamic when it comes to educating the youth; but I have a small family and I still struggle with it. There is a lot of homework each week, my kids hate doing homework, I hate doing homework, and it is more complex. Algebra is being introduced in some elementary schools, Common Core math has been introduced, and ISAT scores are ultra-competitive. The educational environment today is not for the weak-of-mind.

I feel bad for those young single parents that do not have the academic background to assist their children. Unfortunately, these children will find themselves behind the eight-ball as they grow. And it isn’t keeping up with kids during these growing periods. My own struggles are evident when I assist my kids and I have to hide it best I can. My kids need to believe that I can answer any question. This helps with their confidence. Occasionally I have to punt the question to God and tell them to wait for that answer. (“Daddy, when does infinity end?” “Daddy, how was God born?”) For the most part, I am able to plow through the difficult school subjects and provide them with the appropriate answers. I do fear my involvement will diminish as they progress in grades. At some point I will have to ask myself “am I smarter than a 5th grader?” Sigh, I already know that answer.

Daddy Dan