If you are new to ManvDadhood, I want to start by saying welcome, and thank you for stopping by.  I hope you will continue to stop by in the month of August while I post a collection of definitive posts that will truly give you a clear picture of who I am, and what I’ve come through in the short time I’ve been blogging.

Enjoy!

I’m doing this post from a Special Education Teacher perspective…

When at work, I know that I have these kids in a semi-controlled environment, with very specific programs in place. I have received the education and training that helps me to function and interact specifically with my students and the others who work with them. My students get off their bus at 7:15 in the morning, and I am responsible for them for the next 7 hours and 15 minutes then I put them on a bus to go home. I get them at what may be the best and most-focused part f their day. I understand that there are parents I will admire, and will not be able to fully comprehend their situation; single parents, and parents of children with special needs are two such parents.

I understand that I chose to do what I do as a profession, but you will always be a parent. I spoke with a parent tonight, and I don’t want to go into what we talked about, but it was a tough conversation to hear.

To ALL parents,

BE ENCOURAGED! There’s others who understand your struggle, but it is a necessary one.

-JB

If you are new to ManvDadhood, I want to start by saying welcome, and thank you for stopping by.  I hope you will continue to stop by in the month of August while I post a collection of definitive posts that will truly give you a clear picture of who I am, and what I’ve come through in the short time I’ve been blogging.

Enjoy!

My wife grew up in South America, I lived in ta rural suburb, and went to school in Seattle, and have done a fair amount of domestic and international travel. How much of a disservice would it be to shrink the world my kids live in to the things they see everyday?

With the holidays upon us, we are bombarded with consumerism, commercialism, and a retail-driven sense of entitlement. This new toy that you got last year is brand new because it is now white! Children’s’ television is the biggest offender. They use words like COOL and AWESOME, which everyone wants to be and have.

How do we make sure that our kids do not fall prey to retail gimmicks and blurred holiday seasons? How do we ensure that they do not start Black Friday on that Wednesday, and that they are not completely broke by Cyber Monday? How do we get our kids to see more than what is in front of them? PERSPECTIVE!

When stick in a corn maze and are having trouble seeing anything other than walls, change your perspective. When you are just barely paying off last year’s holiday season by the time this year rolls around, change your perspective.  If all you can see is your trials, and your own struggles, and your own issues, change your perspective.  There is always someone who would sell their soul to have your life.

EXAMPLE: When working with middle school students who have learning disabilities, you can see that they feel like they are the dregs of their society because they are not in the “normal” class with the “normal” kids, and they need extra help.  I was able to work at a school that allowed those kids to be peer tutors to the students with developmental, physical, and other mental disabilities.  They became the examples, the role models, and they were able to see (not just be told) that they have something to offer the world.  I saw kids who had retreated into themselves break out of their shells and gain confidence, and discover who they are. It is amazing what just a little perspective can do for you.

The news this week said something to the tune of, “47% of Americans don’t think they will be able to meet their gift-spending needs this holiday season.”  the radio reporter kept talking about the economy and this year’s projected spending, but they lost me at this one phrase: gift-spending needs.

How far from the true spirit of the holiday season have we fallen as a society when the news can say gift-spending needs without cracking a smile?  If you watch ANY cheesy or low-budget Christmas cartoon, or any of the classic stop-motion movies, the purpose of Christmas is not gifts, but letting those you care about know you love them, and that they are special.  As someone who was a broke college student living with his wife and child in his in-law’s house, I know how embarrassing it can feel to be unable to provide a proper Christmas for your child. However, she has had more fun with empty boxes, or large amounts of unravelled toilet paper.

It is not about the gifts, but about the family time together.

So, here’s the question to both of my readers    How do you help your child grow with the proper perspective on life in American society?

-JB

If you are new to ManvDadhood, I want to start by saying welcome, and thank you for stopping by.  I hope you will continue to stop by in the month of August while I post a collection of definitive posts that will truly give you a clear picture of who I am, and what I’ve come through in the short time I’ve been blogging.

Enjoy!

The other day while listening to a Pandora playlist, an Aaliyah song came on and it was extremely nostalgic to me.  I told the Wife that it gave me a very vivid memory of sitting at my desk in my room in high school and reading a brand new comic book with just the lamp on my desk on and the radio playing in the back ground. For her, she said, it reminded her of when we hung out for a full Summer because it was soon after Aaliyah died and they were laying all her music on the radio.  

…Is a Kick-@ss Woman

If you are new to ManvDadhood, I want to start by saying welcome, and thank you for stopping by.  I hope you will continue to stop by in the month of August while I post a collection of definitive posts that will truly give you a clear picture of who I am, and what I’ve come through in the short time I’ve been blogging.

Enjoy!

Derailed by Mom Issues:

With the passing of this past Mother’s Day, I had been inspired to hash out a couple things in a new blog post.  However, I felt like there was so much I have in my head to say, that all the ideas trip over one another.  I have no clear train of though, because I can’t complete any.  This is what my mom does to me.  I feel every emotion flood into my head, and nothing all at the same time. I’ve had three thoughts in my head, regarding my mom, but they continue to interrupt one another. Since I can’t get the finished thoughts out of my head, I will get them away from having to keep looking at them in order to finish them.

This idea I kept coming back to, but it forces me to rethink about a time period that was really rough, and took my wife and I a few years to get beyond.  I had three other ideas I may revisit someday, but I don’t like thinking about thins that are upsetting to me, and my mother is just that.

 “Mommy Dearest”

I am the youngest of seven, and I work with students who sometimes either can’t talk, or not very well.  I see the world the way a behaviorist does; what you DO is who you ARE. To quote rapper DMX, “Talk is cheap!”. I come from an eloquent, well-spoken, educated, and persuasive family.  I was fooled into thinking a lot of things growing up, and even though our words can be counter to our core character, our actions can only be counter to that core for so long.  A little bit of adversity, and I learned who my family really was, and who I really was.  

Matthew 12:46-50

While he was yet speaking to the multitudes, behold, his mother and his brethren stood without, seeking to speak to him.  And one said unto him, Behold, thy mother and thy brethren stand without, seeking to speak to thee.  But he answered and said unto him that told him, Who is my mother? and who are my brethren?  And he stretched forth his hand towards his disciples, and said, Behold, my mother and my brethren!  For whosoever shall do the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is my brother, and sister, and mother.

A Very Long Engagement

Senior Year

In the Summer of 2003 I proposed to my wife.  In the time from that day until our wedding the following Summer, we experienced a lot of turmoil from external forces.  Just to give you an idea about what happened in the 12 month engagement aside from the usual wedding preparations: I visited her fam in Ecuador, returned to learn that my mom and step-dad were trying to use their influence in our church to stop our wedding, one of my brothers jumped on the band wagon, I tried to appease the situation by making him my Best Man, he agreed, later decided to cuss out my fiancé over the phone and said he wouldn’t be a part of my wedding, My mom made a plea to me not to marry my wife, My fiancé and I went to counseling to deal with this situation, I met my BioDad, I did not invite my mother to a wedding she did not want to occur, she still did not show up, we had a beautiful wedding with 400+ in attendance, an amazing reception where we danced until almost midnight, and will be married for 7 years this Summer.  That’s the engagement in a nutshell.

Mom is MIA

Throughout the entirety of my engagement, and on the day of my wedding, I struggled with the loss of relationship with my mother.  Even though I was closer to my Step-Dad, it is the relationship with my mom I feel that she cheated me out of. Because of the way she raised me, and the things she said to me, I assumed that she would be a great mother-in-law and grandmother, ultimately.  I still have a hold-out for my kids to know their grandmother, but I won’t force ANY negative influence into their lives.  I grew up with a mother who was very strong and determined (it’s where I get those qualities), but the reality is closer to insecure and confused.  I don’t know if I will ever get a chance to talk with the strong woman who raised me; I think she is gone from me forever.

The Mother of MY Children

The idea of mother, when I think about what I think it should be, and what I experience, they do not always match up.  As a mother, would you tell your child that they were an accident, almost aborted, conceived in hate?  Of course not, because you are most likely a well-adjusted individual.  My wife is constantly amazed at the miracle that is our children.  She is awe-struck at the idea that these two beautiful being are the product of us.  She is protective, she builds them up, she teaches them, she trains them, she disciplines them, she is creative in how she interacts with them.  She is an amazing mother.  I hope to talk her into writing on this blog one day [fingers crossed].  I never have, and I never will have any fears about my kids when they are with their mother.

I love my wife.  When I see the things she does for our kids, I don’t wish that I had those things from my own mother.  However, I do wish she was able to be around to be those things for her grandchildren.

I live less than two miles from my mom, and we’re worlds apart.

-JB

If you are new to ManvDadhood, I want to start by saying welcome, and thank you for stopping by.  I hope you will continue to stop by in the month of August while I post a collection of definitive posts that will truly give you a clear picture of who I am, and what I’ve come through in the short time I’ve been blogging.

Enjoy!

I’ve been known to be funny.  I have developed my sarcasm.  I ignore my introverted-ness at times.  I exploit my Alpha-Dog within.  I hide my inner Geek (sometimes).  I stomp out the urges to yell.  I still don’t understand emotions (mine or others’).  I know how those who don’t know me may categorize me upon seeing me, and it intrigues me.  I used to go to the store in baggy hooded sweats and have headphones in my ear without any music playing just to hear what people say when they think you can’t hear them.  I love mirrored sunglasses.  The behavior of people intrigues me; that’s why I do what I do for work.

I don;t think there’s a way to translate the behaviorist side of myself into this blog.  My sense of humor is passive-aggressive, sarcastic, subtle, inappropriate, and just mean sometimes.  But how does someone bounce back and forth from mommy-issues to a vacuum they enjoy, to manhood, to anger-management, to his little princess, to his son, to race issues, to techie concerns, to special Education developments, to whatever and still maintain a captive audience?

If I’ve learned anything from no one, it’s that anyone can teach you something at any moment.

I have had a great response to some of my more”inspired” posts, and I think that the pressure I felt to do some equally deep follow-up posts was self-imposed.  Yes, I want to discuss some heavier issues in my life, but I am not a deep, touchy-feely, cum-by-yah, “everyone’s a winner” kind of person.  I am, in fact a fairly simple person… or at least I think I am.  My own philosophy is that if you have to tell people you are something, then you are not it.  If you were, then people would know that.  But is that the case when it comes to an online persona?

Am I doing the Modern Dad a disservice by trying to stick to one niche?  since today’s dads are “EVERY-MEN”, who am I to try and stick myself into a box?  My own Twitter profile explains the many sides of me thus far:Ex College Athlete, Husband, Dad, Geek, Special Education teacher… Just trying my best.  But that still scratches my surface.  I am a diapering/greco-roman-style baby wrestler.  I am a battlefield medic, ordering the able troop (Peables) to go retrieve supplies while helping a downed soldier tend to his wounds (poop and a diaper rash).  I am the strongest-weakest, fastest-slowest, best-worst wrestler/dancer ever as I balance being the strongest dad ever with getting beaten up by my kids.  I have Love-Amnesia: I get annoyed at little things my wife does, but I’m so happy to see her when we’re home that I forget, and she’s just perfect.  I am a dormant volcano of a has-been athlete that I have to calm myself from going too hard too fast when I get a chance to compete.  I am a pushover of a disciplinarian.  I am the head, and I show examples of how to follow, and how to lose.  I can nap while my kids are jumping all over me.  I am an educator of modern-mythologies (comics).

I am a dad.  I am a modern dad.

I am everything my pack needs me to be.

-JB

If you are new to ManvDadhood, I want to start by saying welcome, and thank you for stopping by.  I hope you will continue to stop by in the month of August while I post a collection of definitive posts that will truly give you a clear picture of who I am, and what I’ve come through in the short time I’ve been blogging.

Enjoy!

Even though my wife may see it differently, I am the dad I am because of the failing of my own dads (step-dad and bio-dad).  I will touch on this from time to time.  What I want to talk about is something that has shaped the way I relate to everyone, especially my kids.

For lack of a better term, I’ll describe the household I grew up in as dramatic.  My mom was dramatic.  My older brother was dramatic.  If my sister was dramatic, I didn’t notice because I thought that was normal.  Maybe dramatic is not the right word.  So I will describe the situation and I’ll let you tell me how the environment was.

As the youngest, in a household that was ordered by a literal chain of command, I was careful to try not to make rub anyone the wrong way.  There were individuals in my household who I had to gauge which mood they were in before continuing to enter their proximity or engaging them.  When they were upset, I was just a fly on the wall.  When they were in a good mood, I would hope that it would last so I wouldn’t end up subjected to the whims of mood-swings.  I learned to listen to how things were said to read people’s moods; word choice, and what became issues and what they let slide.  I watched body language to see how they were feeling; repetitive motions, signs of exhaustion, or frustration.

As a private in this military family, I HAD TO follow orders of my older siblings.  I could not say no, or I would be subject to Court Marshall; getting beat up or something.  The buck stopped on me.  There was nowhere else for it to go.  I saw how someone else would get yelled at, and it would only be a matter of time (usually minutes) before that anger was thrown at me.  I would most likely get berated for something that had nothing to do with me.  I noticed as consequences did not match the crimes committed.  It felt like I was often put on Death Row for running a red light.

What kind of relationships does this dynamic create?  Unhealthy ones.  In me, I learned to shut out my own family.  The words that they said, no longer had any real meaning anymore.  I was subjected to verbal bashings, but at a young age, what I thought was not letting them bother me was actually internalizing it.  Since I never dealt with what I was told I was (selfish, nothing, lazy, etc…), it creeps up every now and again.  I squashed any reactions I may have had to teasing and prodding when I learned that it was the reaction that was the goal.  In other words, I stopped showing anger, or anything.  Even now I don’t like to be angry, because I think it takes me back to being a little kid who has no control over anything.

In others, they learned to let their emotional whims take them wherever they pleased because they had me to make them feel better.  Whether that was ranting and venting at/on me, forcing me to go joyriding in the family truck, even though I didn’t want to, so they wouldn’t be in trouble alone, or waking me up in the middle of the night to yell at me to do tasks and chores at 3 in the morning.  I shut down and became a drone, and they were enabled to become narcissistic.

What has been the lasting effect?  I am diligently guarded, and closed to almost anyone.  In instances that should be very emotional, I am not; I don’t know how to be.  Both years in high school when my football team lost in the playoffs, my friends and teammates were brought to tears, especially our senior year.  I was not.  I was detached from the feelings and the emotions of the game.  Nothing at funerals. Nothing at tragedy.  I understand what emotions others are feeling, and what I should feel, but I just don’t feel it.  I get wildly uncomfortable when anyone outside of my wife starts getting to close to me.  She has cracked this shell, but I don’t know if I can open up to anyone else.

As a dad, I am conscious to never address my kids in my own frustrations, anger, tantrums, etc… I do my best to act out emotional responses for her to see how her actions have an effect on others, but I don’t do anything brashly, or without thinking.  At least, I don’t think I do.  But I DO know that I do not yell at either kids in anger.  I have a loud voice when I need it, and I use it as an attention grabber, and not as a punishment.  My only worry is will I be able to teach my kids to be emotionally healthy when I don’t think that I am?

I know I am able to let my kids know what to expect when they see me.  I am never gonna snap at them.  They will hear me yell only to be heard over noise, or the get their attention when safety is a factor.  Consequences have more of a lasting effect when delivered calmly as a natural effect of their actions.

Sometimes I feel like I want to open up to a couple close friends, I just… can’t do it.

-JB

If you are new to ManvDadhood, I want to start by saying welcome, and thank you for stopping by.  I hope you will continue to stop by in the month of August while I post a collection of definitive posts that will truly give you a clear picture of who I am, and what I’ve come through in the short time I’ve been blogging.

Enjoy!

A Letter to My Son, DMHB,

            Hey buddy.  Since today is your first birthday, I wanted to take a moment to tell you about your first year of life.  To be perfectly honest, this has been a very trying year, but looking at you has made it all worth it.  The time since you were born has flown by; so let me start by getting some of the tangibles out of the way.  In the last 12 months, I finished my Master’s in Special Education and started a new teaching position in North Bend, your mom has started a new position and schedule at the Hospital, and your sister has started preschool up at MVP.  We moved in with Nana and Papa for a few long weeks before finding a rental home close by.  You rode in an airplane to California where you got to sleep and poop in Disneyland, and meet your Great Grandma.

D, in this short year you have shown yourself to be silly, charming, happy, affectionate, fun-loving, easy-going, opinionated, smart, and a very good boy.  In short, you fit into our crazy family perfectly.  Your sister loves you, and is happy that you are getting more and more mobile every day.  Your mother could not love you any more than she does now; you are a momma’s boy, and she’s glad for that.  As for me, you are my boy.  You are not my chance to right the wrongs of my childhood.  You are your own life, and choices, and consequences.  My only hope is that you allow me to go on this journey with you.

You are mine.

I am yours.

I love you son,

-Dad

If you are new to ManvDadhood, I want to start by saying welcome, and thank you for stopping by.  I hope you will continue to stop by in the month of August while I post a collection of definitive posts that will truly give you a clear picture of who I am, and what I’ve come through in the short time I’ve been blogging.

Enjoy!

Normally, when I start a post, I know what I want to say and how I want to say it before beginning. That is not the case here. Perhaps it is because it is a difficult topic to me, or that I have so much I think I want to say that I can’t figure out just what I should say. So I have decided to just start typing, and post whatever comes out right now.

In Part 1 of this series, I mentioned the emotionally abusive nature of my brother. Something that is never considered when you are a victim of any kind of abuse, is that you have a propensity to do what happened to you. Abused children may become violent, the sexually abused can become the abusers, and on, and on. As someone who grew up in a house with abuse in it, I was subjected to emotional abuse, but it hasn’t been until recently (I’m almost 30) that I realized it even was abuse. How did this kind of a childhood make me a different person today?

Detachment for Survival

As someone who experience emotional abuse, I realize that the abusers use your own emotions to control you. As long as you continue to react to them, and display these emotions, they are able to continue to control you. This is dangerous in a family setting, because how is someone supposed to remove themselves from what appears to be a loving and supportive family setting at a young age? Emotions that were stirred in me were anger, guilt, insignificance, and selfishness. Even though I did not understand why I was made to feel this way, or how I could be called any of these, I believed them and I reacted, because it was family telling me this. It wasn’t until I began to detach from these emotions and refused to react that I began to see the frustration in my brother. The less I said, and the less I gave them (the more apathetic I appeared), the more i was able to ignore their attempts at controlling me through my emotions.

What this Means, is that by high school, I was increasingly becoming detached from my emotions. Instead of going through them in order to understand them, I pushed them down and ignored them, which anyone will tell you is not a healthy thing to do. I became someone who did not delve deep into my own or others’ emotions, and only went as deep as the surface; I became superficial. I did not have relationships that went very deep, and I did not, nor did I know how to, invest into other people.

Me Now… What’s Changed?

The only way I have been able to come to these realizations about myself, is because I have been blessed to have someone come into my life who has turned me around completely. My wife has been a catalyst for personal change (which is possibly the topic I will address next). Her example and encouragement coupled with the unconditional love of my children has created a childhood for them that I can enjoy in spite of the one from my own memory. I get to become the father that is engaged, and loving, and encouraging, and I get to be a parent who actually encourages love among siblings rather than competition and a chain-of-command. I get to share in the new memories that we are creating, and let to past remain in the past. This reality means that the emotional abuse I dealt with will not be passed on to my children, and will not be passed onto theirs. The cycle of manipulation and control has ended, and the more i grow as a husband and father, the less I understand why I had the childhood I did.

-JB

If you are new to ManvDadhood, I want to start by saying welcome, and thank you for stopping by.  I hope you will continue to stop by in the month of August while I post a collection of definitive posts that will truly give you a clear picture of who I am, and what I’ve come through in the short time I’ve been blogging.

Enjoy!

When I started drafting this blog post, I did not know it was going to be as long as it has been turning out. That is why I decided to split it up and turn it into a series that looks at only one family relationship I have had trouble with; my brother. This series will focus on a subject I don’t want to hold in, and can’t hold in any longer. However, these are things that I do not want to verbally talk about, or maybe I just can’t get myself to physically form the words with my mouth. In any case, I’m gonna try to let this confusion in my head become something coherent for you to read and discuss.

From The Cosby Show to The Simpsons

The house I grew up in was ideal, but the house I look back on in my memories has become tainted and the characters are almost unrecognizable to me anymore. I grew up the youngest of 7 in a blended household that I grew up believing was a very safe and loving place. My closest sibling is my brother. In fact, of the 4 brothers I have, he is the only fully biological brother I have; meaning, I have a step-brother and 2 half-brothers. I looked up to my brother, and he was very, very protective.

As it turns out, this relationship with my brother has been the best and worst relationship I have ever had with anyone… EVER! I never knew it was the worst relationship until recently. If I examine my own thoughts at different occurrences, then I have the mentality of someone who experienced emotional abuse, and he has the characteristics of someone who is emotionally abusive. He was very protective of me, but it was with the mindset that No one messes with my little brother… except me! I remember him keeping others from taking advantage of my youthful willingness to please, but then he exploited that much worse.

Forgotten Example

I have endless stories of the things I experienced at my brother’s whim growing up, but I’ll limit them in this post to only 1:

In my brother’s senior year of high school, I was in 7th grade. I was not dumb to how intense he was. While watching the TV one afternoon, he asks me if I want to walk down the street on a hot sunny day and shoot some hoops. I knew I shouldn’t have, and I tried to resist. I told him that I didn’t want to because I didn’t want it to turn into a basketball lesson from him. He assured me it wouldn’t he said he just wanted to shoot around, and wanted me to go with him. As a little brother who wanted to shoot as well as his older brother I was enticed, but still reluctant. Only shoot around, nothing else? I asked hoping for the best. He, of course, assured me that we would only shoot around, and I agreed.

Soon after arriving, the shoot-around turned into him barking out orders and yelling while I was stuck listening and trying to perform a left-handed hook shot. There came a point, when I was practicing free throw shots, and when I missed one, I had to do push-ups on the black asphalt. Why didn’t I say no, and leave? Why did I stay and take the punishment? We were being raised in a militaristic household with a chain-of-command, and I was not allowed to say NO to my older siblings (it would be like disobeying a direct order from a commanding officer), and he exploited this. By the end of this boot camp-like practice session with Sargent Brother, I had blisters on my palms from doing push-ups on asphalt that you could see the heat rising from.

Conveniently, my brother has no recollection of this event, but you can see why I remember it so vividly. It was not a sad day for me when he graduated and moved out. This is not the only thing that I experienced from my brother that he has forgotten, and he tries to imply that I’m making them up, like they never happened. Like these meant nothing to him, and aren’t even worth remembering.

My brother believes that the ends justify the means, and he is a great manipulator. So when I excelled at basketball, he suggested that he had a hand in it.

Part 1 Wrap-Up

My family has done more to hold me back than to help me succeed, and I don’t know how I made it out with a decent head on my shoulders. I do have deeply-ingrained defense mechanisms that keep life at arm’s length. But after coming to realization that this relationship was emotionally abusive, I have been able to start letting go of some of the anger I hold towards him; anger towards someone means that they control you, and I’m done being controlled.

Thanks for checking this out, I’ll have the next part of the series up sometime this weekend.

-JB