Can I Change my Kids
There seems to be this overarching need to control others. Have you noticed that? Yeah, me too. I’ve determine that this stems from unresolved issues in one’s life. My inability to get my own desk, email, 
closet, car, family, life, addiction – whatever – in order, leads me to tell you how live. Why? I don’t know. I guess it’s because I want to seem something in my life that is under my control.
I can’t even get my dog to obey me, why would I think I could take on someone whose IQ is closer to mine?
Yes, even I have been accused of being controlling. In fact several years ago an organization I was working with didn’t want to give me the “Director” title, because one person complained about my tendencies to control. They wanted to call me the “coordinator of coordinators.” Sheesh! Like that would change my job description.
It turns out it wasn’t me, but the complainer’s issues with authority. But she went on to become a famous neurologist, so I guess she doesn’t have to worry about anyone telling her what to do anymore.
My inability to control others the world, led to some deep-seated rage. Usually the rage was only uncorked when I was behind the wheel of my ginormous 4WD pickup. You know, the one with the huge tires, shiny wheels, and big chrome roll-bar with aircraft landing lights on top. Yeah…. I hate to admit it, but I was that guy.
The anger of a victimized childhood, coupled with the stress of a dysfunctional family, and then the rage of people not doing what I determined to be the right way to do things – well, it wasn’t working. The problem was, I didn’t know it was working until my wife left me. Well, even that didn’t help too much. I had to wallow in the whole sex, drugs, and rock’n roll phase for nearly a decade. Then I woke up.
As I began to pull my head out of my back-side, I stumbled across a fantastic bit of wisdom. Maybe you’ve seen it?
That’s what I needed. Serenity to accept the things I cannot change. And basically that is almost everything in my life except the icons and desktop theme on my computer.
Courage to change the things I can. Wow, about the only one I can control is myself, and even that isn’t too easy. Until I get my own life mastered, I really have no business seeking to change others – or other systems.
Ooh, wisdom. Sweet, sweet wisdom. The wisdom to know what I can and cannot change. Ok, maybe I can just start here. Before I begin to question someone, or seek to “adjust” them, I take a moment and evaluate my potential for success. It only takes a moment before I realize that the only thing I really have control over is my own attitude.
The passage goes on to say:
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace…
One day at a time. Yeah, a little easier said than done, I admit. But it certainly takes the urgency, stress, frustration, and regret out of one’s heart and off of our shoulders. Living in the moment, a great Zen-Buddhist principle that was actually taught by Jesus also. We have so forgotten this principle.
I often have to go to some mountaintop to listen to the wind blow through the trees, or watch the stars twinkle overhead, before I remember to live in the moment.
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace? Really? No way!
We are a society that does everything it can to avoid pain. The very idea that this pain would bring peace into our lives is perposterous! Oh yes, we have so much to learn.
My role, one of many, as a Dad, is to allow them enough freedom to experience pain, but not enough that they would be crushed. At the same time, I know that I can never control them. I can enourage, model, and empower, but control kills their sweet spirits.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the children I cannot change,
The courage to encourage the child that I can;
And the wisdom to know the difference.
Splitting Hairs the Hard Way
Are you one of those people who thinks knows they can do it better than anyone else? I am. I grew up in a family where our unwritten and unspoken motto was: “If I can’t do it, it can’t be done!“
Along these lines, I’m thinking about going back to cutting my own hair. I used to cut my own hair. Back when I was living a life of simplicity in SE Portland, I was eating a lot of vegetables and rice, riding my bike to work, and streamlining my life in many ways.
You see, I started doing the math on haircuts. It took me 15 minutes to go to the barber; I had to wait for 15 minutes to get my haircut; it usually took 15-20 minutes for the stylist/barber/whomever to cut my hair; and then another 15 minutes to go home. Not only was it costing me $15, but it was taking at least an hour out of my life. An hour in which I could be doing something productive. (I don’t know what that was back before the Internet came along?) On top of that, it was rarely the way I asked them to cut it!
When I got married seven and a half years ago, I quit cutting my own hair. Out of defference to my wife, who didn’t like all the little stubbly hairs all over the bathroom. As a bachelor, I didn’t mind those, but I think she had a good point.
Here’s the cunundrum. I like supporting the local economy. If I have a choice between the big-box chain, or the mom and pop store down the road, I’ll choose the mom and pop place. But some of these mom and pop operations do business so poorly, that they really leave no room for choice. Whenever I go into the local hardware store here in Rainier, I always leave empty-handed. The owner chuckles and gives me some lame excuse for not having the item I need.
So, I get back in my truck and drive to the nearest Lowe’s or Home Depot. Even Fred Meyer has more than this local hardware store – and all of them are about 20% cheaper. I’m learning that trying to save a drive into town to go to the big box store, ends up costing me more time in the end.
When I lived in the suburban no-mans land of Colorado Springs, there were very few non-chain retail options. I resigned myself to letting the girls (yes, they were not quite women) at Supercuts have a whack at my hair. I have to admit, they did a great job. Quick, precise, and with uniform quality. We go to McDonalds, because we know what we’re going to get. The same with Starbucks. It may not be the best, but it is universal across the country.
Upon moving to rural Columbia County, living in a town of 1600 people, I thought I would give the local businesses an opportunity to have my money. My hair is so easy to cut, and I am so non-picky about it, that I began a search for the $8 barber.
Last month, I walked into a shop in downtown St. Helens. “$12 dollars,” he says in reply to my query. Well it’s awfully hard to walk out of a shop when you’re looking the guy in the face. Besides I really needed a haircut – badly. Not only was it a bad haircut, but I had to put up with this mindless ranting about stuff I wasn’t even the least bit interested in.
Two days ago, I walked into another little St. Helens barber shop and was told that it would cost me $15. Sheesh, I can get a haircut at Cost Cutters for $12, $14 with the tip, and I know it’s going to be good. But 
of course, I sat down in the chair. But after I got home, I realized that my sideburns were crooked and it was a bad haircut. It took me 10 minutes to clean it up myself.
So, I think I’m going to go back to cutting my own hair. It’s not that hard really. I’ve been watching people do it for decades. Plus, it puts $15 dollars back into the local economy. I’m local aren’t I?
So, I’m supporting the local economy by increasing my amount of disposable income my family has to spend and I’m guaranteed to spend it somewhere! I’m saving time, I’m saving stress (mine), and I’m saving the world by not driving so much.
I’m really not splitting hairs, this is serious business! Really! 🙂
Whatever it is…it can wait!
When we moved back to Oregon, our goal was to find a four bedroom house so I could have an office at home. We found it and for the most part, that is great. However, my kids haven’t quite learned that a closed door means “leave me alone.”
Also, regular household walls do not stop the shrieks and screams from infants and preschoolers. Then, of course, there is Mommy – she wants access to me 24/7 too. Something about enjoying my company – or some lame excuse.
If I were working in an “off-campus” office, Mommy would have to deal with all these issues on her own. If I were working “off-site” my Darling Daughter wouldn’t be able to show me every time she gets a wound, cut, scrape, or scratch – not to mention the new acrobatics, pairing of shoes, or just to come and hold me.
Lately my DD has developed the most annoying habit. She just wants me to play with her! Can you believe it?!
And my Smiley Son, although he’s almost 11 months old, he wants to be held. Yeah, that’s right, he crawls into my office, pulls himself up on my leg and wants me to hold him!
How is a guy supposed to get anything done around here? For crying out loud, no wonder my Dad was a workaholic who never came home!
It looks like I may have to put up with this for another 10-15 years. About the time my DD graduates from high school, my SS will be getting his drivers license. Then, maybe, I can have some peace and quiet around here.
Just a sec, I’ll be right back, my DD wants me to read a story (or 3) to her before she goes to sleep.
Wow, on the way into the bedroom she smacked her head on something. There were great big rivers of tears. Warm drops falling on my bare feet as I held her close. We lay on the bed and I just held her. I almost thought she was going to fall asleep lying on my chest.
My wrist was developing carpal-tunnel issues from patting her softly on the back. I kept thinking about all the things that are awaiting me in that lonely office on the other side of the house. I should tell her it’s time to read. Maybe I can slip away. No, I’m good. I could lie like this the rest of my life.
Ok, I’m back, now where was I?
Oh, wait, Mommy wants me to walk SS to sleep, be right back!
Now that was just a dirty trick. I picked up SS and he snuggled into my arms and neck like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Long after he was asleep, I just sat in the rocker and held him. Sure I’ve got work to do, but when you love someone that much…
…it can wait.
15 years. I wish I had 30…or more.
Confessing my Dad Attitude 