Tag: parenting

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I’m a soccer parent

The boy loves soccer

Me: I assume you were one of the popular kids at school?
Alison: (laughing) No, I was a jock.
Me: What? You?
Her: Yup – I was on the soccer team from when I was kid all the way to when I was in college.
Me: Man, you were a jock!

Alison and I rarely fought – probably because we saw eye-to-eye on almost everything.

Everything, that is, except for sports.

She insisted that he play a team sport, but I just wanted him to focus on school and martial arts.

That’s probably because I absolutely dreaded gym class when I was a kid.

Me: I remember at least once, two team captains had a fight as to who had to take me.
Alison’s father: How small was your school?
Me: (shrugging) I guess small enough that two team captains had a fight as to who had to take me.

The kid is so different from me – PE is actually his favoruite class.

Not only that, but somehow – even without Alison being here – he’s gravitated mainly to soccer and asked to be on his school’s team.

I told him no but Alison’s parents, very gently, told me to reconsider.

I remember the fights that Alison and I used to have on the topic and I also saw just how much it meant to the kid to be on a team, so I relented.

I also involve Alison’s parents in all my decision making when it comes to the kid for three major reasons:

    1. They’ve successfully raised several kids whereas I can barely keep Harold alive.
    2. I figure that they represent Alison’s point-of-view better than I would so, in some ways, I still have her counsel, in a manner of speaking, despite her not being here with us.
    3. Clearly, I have no idea what I’m doing – I’m just winging it, as I think most first-rime parents do.

So, this past week, I went to the kid’s first soccer game.

The administration behind soccer has been an absolute disaster: They had their tryouts late on a Monday and the very first competition game just two days later.

Most of the kids didn’t even have cleats and have never played with each other.

But they tried their level best that day, against kids much bigger than them.

It was a rout – my kid’s team lost 7-to-1 but the single goal was made by the kid’s buddy Rust with an assist by him, which made me proud (sorry, no pics of that play).

But, in the end, I thought they all did a good job.

Me: Your mamma woulda been proud of you.
Him: But we lost.
Me: She would just be glad that you tried your best.
Him: It wasn’t fair. All the bigger kids kept hunting us.
Me: Well, the point of the game is to win – honestly and ethically, but still. They did that.
Him: (dejected) I guess.
Me: You know what, how about some fast food?
Him: (brightening) Really!?
Me: Yeah, sure. It’s not an always kinda thing but today’s a special occasion.
Him: Thanks, papa!
Me: Anytime, kid.

Mood: still sotted
Music: Your time to shine, don’t wait in line, and we go for it all (Spotify)
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Three doctor visits in two days

Bad old days

The past few days have been an unpleasant reminder of my worst days.

Sara’s kid had an emergency happen and he had to head off to the ER. It turned out to be fine but, like all visits to the ER, it was a lotta hurry up and wait.

They left just after 6PM and didn’t come home until midnight.

But, like I said, it turned out to be nothing.

Her: Well, I just spent $600 for nothing.
Me: No, you spent $600 for peace of mind. And the luckiest thing that could have happened was this – nothing.

I meant that too – to pay hundreds, or even thousands, to find out you’re ok is a bargain.

I speak from the shittiest of experiences, as you know, so we’ll just wrap up that story now as it’s not mine to tell.

Coincidentally, I went to the doctor myself that same day – my doctor had his own medical emergency and then up and retired.

Which is a shame, because I really liked him. He was great.

Anywho, I had to jump through hours of hoops with my insurance company to try to work out billing – and I’m still not sure it’s worked out.

But I had to see the doc because I’m leaning towards getting the surgery to fix my back and the surgeon that the Fighting Surgeon told me to meet wanted X-Rays of my back.

So, I went to the Medemerge Doctor’s place and even set up a 3:30 appointment to get my back X-rayed.

He saw me right away.

Him: Logan! What’s going on?
Me: Welp, remember my back issue I was telling you about…?

He was great and gave me a flu shot as well.

But, because of how my buddy’s place does things, I didn’t end up seeing the tech until 5:30 – two hours later – which was super annoying.

The doc was super apologetic but he said that the techs are federally required to take an hour break and I guess he decided to take it when I was there, of course.

The actual procedure took like 10 minutes, which was a minor plus.

So, I got my x-rays in my grubby little hands and the MRI from this time last year.

Now I just need to decide if I really wanna do this…

Location: one of the upper floors in the dead of night, spackling a wall and setting up a camera
Mood: apprehensive
Music: Got your back if you got mine (Spotify)
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The last week before middle school

Why do I do this to myself?

The kid had to come back this past weekend because I was in charge of an informal middle school parents and kids meetup picnic.

Him: How did you end up in charge of this thing?
Me: I dunno. I just kinda do. And every time I do something like this, I think to myself, “Why did I even do this? No one asked me to do this, I gave myself this responsibility.”
Him: (laughing) That sounds exactly like you.

This meant that, bright and early the day before, I went to bring Sara’s granny cart to the local market and picked up a plethora of mostly empty carbs.

Also got some hard seltzer for the adults because, why not.

I counted somewhere between 40-50 people at this thing, so I ended up also buying 10 pizza-like things.

Him: Pizza-like?
Me: (shrugging) We had a limited budget so I got Dominos for everyone.
Him: (nodding) Yup, that’s definitely pizza-like.

They were a hit with the kids, which is pretty much the only thing that matters.

Sara came by to help – that’s her below before most of the families showed up.

Everyone seemed to have a grand time.

In the end, the kid made a few new friends and played for a few hours with some old ones.

He starts middle school this week and went to an orientation today with two of his friends – I didn’t go with him.

Me: How was it?
The kid: (shrugging) Fine. Nothing really happened. I played some games and people talked. It’s not that big a deal.

Well, yeah. Maybe not for him…

Assume all links in this blog are monetized.
Location: almost at Dive 75 but instead, the living room watching the Mets in ’86
Mood: accomplished
Music: another foolish thing that I never really needed (Spotify)
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Growing things

Last 2026 summer date

Her: OMG, it’s even smaller than I thought. You can barely see it.
Me: Man, I hope we’re still talking about the tomato.
Her: What tomato?

I’d been (trying) to grow tomatoes in the pad for a while now – the issue is that we get *too* much sun in one room and essentially cook the vines. That, and I will often forget to water them.

Welp, after a few months, I gave up and gave the trellises to my kali buddy, the Shooting Doctor.

I was cleaning off one of them when I broke a vine and saw this tiny little tomato at the end of vine.

CRAP! I yelled, realizing that I killed the one vine bearing anything in over half-a-year.

Welp, I’m nuthin if not consistent.

The kid went off to Alison’s parents for a few days before he starts school again.

It was for less than a week, but I found that I missed him a lot while he was away.

I think it’s because I knew that when he got back, he’d be starting middle school and, while he’s definitely ready for it, I’m not sure I am.

But, that did mean that Sara and I could have one last summer weekend as faux DINKs.

Me: What are you in the mood for? Indian?
Her: Sure, Indian sounds great.
Me: We could also do Italian, or Japanese.
Her: Logan, you always do this. You ask if I want X, I say, yes, and then you give me more options.
Me: Sorry – it’s just that I wanna eat everything.

Literally, right before the kid came back, someone offered me a Gardyn and, before you knew it, Sara and I were making a 1.5-mile round trip hauling the below monstrosity.

Her: Can we grow some chives?
Me: Sure. I figure we’ll try to grow some herbs, lettuce…
Her: Oh, if we grew scallions, you could make scallion pancakes.
Me: You’re better than that than I am, I’ll grow the scallions and you make the scallion pancakes.
Her: Done.

My mom has always grown things and has been so talented at it – and I’m not just talking about plants

Me? While I’d love to grow some tomatoes and chives – and, dammit, I’m still gonna try – I really need to just grow one thing right.

On that note, the boy’s heading to middle school this week.

So, I’m hoping this means I’m doing ok so far.

He’ll be fine, I’m sure of it.

I’ll let you know how I’m doing after I figure it out myself.

Assume all links in this blog are monetized.
Location: the kid’s school picnic
Mood: ruminative
Music: The nerve of autumn time, days flyin’ by (Spotify)
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Getting from the world without expectation

Experience Camps

Me: I dunno, it’s a little early.
Him: (sighing) Ok, papa.
Me: (thinking) You know what, let’s just go. I don’t wanna be the reason we miss the bus.
Him: YAY!

The kid went off to camp today.

The same really wonderful camp he went to last year, Experience Camps.

Neither of us got any sleep last night: He, because he was too excited and I, because…well, I’m me and still an insomniac (although much better these days).

Even though we didn’t have to be there until 10:15 at the latest, we took off super early.

It was raining when we arrived – an empty parking lot in the middle of nowhere Brooklyn.

There was literally no one else around, so we just sat around for around 40 minutes until someone actually showed up.

Camp Counselor: So, what’s your…wait, you’re the guitar kid!
My son: (laughing) Yeah!

He was one of the first kids on the bus. He couldn’t wait to go.

I saw my own bus off in the distance and ran for it; it was gonna be a solid 15 minutes before the next one.

Heading home, I thought about something someone said once:

My son’s at an age where he still gets from the world, without expectation of giving anything return.

Soon, it will start to demand from him. And then Life will both demand and take.

And then my son, the child, will be gone forever, and he’ll be not-yet-a-man, and then a man.

None of which I’m prepared for.

Don’t think I’m ever prepared for the goodbyes.

Suppose no one ever is.

Him: I’ll be back soon, papa.
Me: I know. I’ll still miss you.

Location: in front of my non-functioning PC, realizing I’m gonna have to take it apart to get to a tiny battery
Mood: grumble
Music: I’m not losing you (Spotify)
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Forgotten Childhood

The old movie theatre

Me: (heading to gym) Hey, have you seen my underwear?
Her: Is your underwear fun to wear?
Me:
Her: Did you hear me?
Me: Yeah.
Her: I said a joke.
Me: That was not a joke. It was something, just not a joke.
Her: You’re such an old fuddy fuddy. That joke was hilarious.
Me: I would be a fuddy duddy that thought that constituted a joke!

Saw my mom this past weekend.

I’ve been scanning all these pictures of my family lately and I wanted to ask her about some of them, because I never got the chance to ask my dad when he was still alive.

Mom: You could ask me, you know?
Me: You know them all?
Her: (scoffing) Do you know how long we were married for?! I probably know 99% of everyone. (thinking) Maybe 95. Definitely 95.

I was talking to Rain the other day about photos – or the lack thereof when we were hanging out.

Me: In some ways, I feel 20somethings are lucky because they always have a camera on them. Other times, I feel bad for them that everyone always has a camera on them.
Him: With what we did? With photo evidence, we’d have been cancelled years ago.

He’s probably right about that.

Still, I wish I had clear pictures of all these fuzzy and inchoate memories of mine.

Like, my very first memory of one was when I was a kid with my family and we were driving back home from something and there was a HUGE screen off in the distance playing Star Wars at a drive-in theatre.

I think it was this one, but I’m not 100% sure.

I remember thinking that was the coolest thing in the world: A television set in the middle of a park.

I also remember wondering who got to choose what they would watch?

In any case, I’m hoping that, at some point, maybe I’ll come across a picture my dad or mom took of that movie theater because we did go there once, although I don’t remember what movie we saw.

I do remember that I loved playing with the speaker they hung in our car.

Wonder what memories the kid’ll have when he’s my age.

Hope they’re good ones and he remembers that he had a good childhood, fulla laughter and love, despite all the misery.

That’s the hope anywho.

Location: Queens, having a perfect weather day
Mood: ruminative
Music: Hair turns gray and the pictures fade (Spotify)
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Three trips

Pushing us forward

By the time you read this, I’ll be flying back from a wedding in Asheville, North Carolina.

But lemme back up a bit and tell you where I’ve been lately.

The kid had his last day of school the other day.

Me: When you walk out these doors, you’re never coming back here as an elementary student again.
Him: I’ll be in middle school! (walks out the door and stops) I’ll never be here again as a student? (looks sad) I’m not ready.
Me: (gently) We never are. But that’s how life is; it pushes you forward even if you’re not ready to be.

He was pretty emotional for a bit, but then I reminded him that we had to catch a train to see his grandmother.

So, off we went.

Unfortunately, all of the tunnels were dark when we arrived.

Entering into the dark train, the conductor said that none of the tunnels had power due to an issue with Amtrak.

They were hoping to fix the issue. But at least half the car already left, like the lady above.

Me: (after 20 minutes) I think we should go.
Him: Can we wait until 3PM?
Me: Fine. (at 3PM, another 10 minutes later) I don’t think this is happening, kid. Let’s try again tonight.
Him: Just five more minutes. PLEASE?!
Me: (sighing) OK, five more. And then we go.

Literally two minutes later, the AC and lights came back on.

Him: SEE?!
Me: (laughing) I’m happy to be wrong here. We’re off to see grandma!
Him: Yay!

We arrived in NJ where I had dinner with Alison’s parents and caught up with them.

After a few hours, I took the train back.

Me: Do you have a painkiller? My jaw’s been killing me for the past few days. Can barely chew.
Him: What happened?
Me: I’m not sure. Maybe I got an ear infection?

Got home and crashed.

Sara: You should go to urgent care and get that checked out.
Me: Yeah, if I have an ear infection, the plane ride will be hell.

So, bright and early the next day, I went to urgent care.

The doc said that, while I didn’t have an infection, I did have some earwax buildup, which he irrigated out – it feels awesome if you’re never done it before.

Him: But I don’t see an infection. (thinking) Are you sure you don’t remember getting injured in your face?
Me: (thinking) Shoot, now that you mention it, I remember that I got a nasty face-crack on my face a few days ago. He was definitely trying to crack my jaw.
Him: What?! Does that happen a lot?
Me: (shrugging) More than you might expect.

By the next morning, I was ready for my flight.

Sara was going to see her family for an annual visit AND her cousin was getting married.

I’ll tell you all about it in the next entry.

Location: AVL, realizing that I’m at the wrong gate
Mood: antsy
Music: feels like summer (Spotify)
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The kid graduated from elementary school

Wanting but not ready to

I always try my best to keep all my entries in chronological order because it acts as my own personal journal – I can’t tell you how many times in a week I’ll search through the blog for some bit of information

But the issue here is that the kid’s graduation was actually a full four days before the last day of his school.

So, that means that the first part of this entry happened before the last entry about the baseball game and the second part, after.

The kid let me sleep in an extra hour but after he woke me up, we quickly made our way to the 84th Street where his graduation was taking place.

Sara took the day off to come and support him, which I really appreciated.

Unfortunately, we were running about five minutes late, which Sara and barely noticed but the kid was apoplectic.

Him: (upset) What if I miss it!? I can run there.
Me: Dude, it’s 85 degrees, the bus is here in two minutes, and it’s six blocks from here.
Him: But what if we miss it?!
Me: We’ll be fine. You gotta believe in the system.

Luckily, the bus did actually come in two minutes and we were there within 10.

Him: We made it!
Me: Never had a doubt, kid.

Before I knew it, they had called his name, and he was up on stage getting his “diploma” and shaking alla his teachers’ hands.

The last time he graduated from anything was five years ago and I had so many mixed feelings then.

This time, I still had them, but it was less so.

Alison would have cried because she would have been so happy and proud.

Like I was.

Afterward, I quickly hit up the gym for two reasons: (a) to work out and (b) to let the kid play for a bit with his friends.

Then I took him and everyone else down to Chinatown to celebrate.

Me: What are you in the mood for?
Him: Hand-pulled noodles and soup!
Me: In the summer?!
Him: You said I could get anything!
Me: (laughing) So I did. Steaming hot noodles and soup in the middle of summer it is.

The next three days were weird as he “graduated,” but he still had school.

A lotta his classmates – he said about half – had already started their summer vacations. After all, we went to a baseball game until about midnight the day before his last day of elementary school.

But I suppose that he’s like me in that he wanted to spend time with friends that he would no longer see on the regular.

Because it finally hit him that he would never be an elementary school student again.

And, truth be told, it finally hit me just now as I wrote these words: He’ll never be an elementary student again.

He’s growing up, as he’s supposed to and as I want him to.

But, while I want him to grow up, I’m not ready for my little boy to grow up yet.

Location: Asheville, NC, having some fried chix
Mood: conflicted
Music: I never knew me a better time and I guess, I never will (Spotify)
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The Knock-Offs

Seeing the moon

Me: (stepping outta the shower)
Her: (nods approvingly) Whoa!
Me: (grins)
Her: You are one good-looking old man.
Me: (frowns)

This weekend, Sara and I saw a movie for the second time with the kid.

The first film we all saw together was the black-and-white film The Mark of Zorro with Tyrone Powell and Basil Rathbone a few months ago.

In that film, when Basil Rathbone’s character was killed, the kid was super upset. I had to tell him it was just a film and the actor was fine.

This time around, we saw Project Hail Mary and – while it took the kid a little while to get into it – we all ended up enjoying it.

The thing is that the ending upset the kid because it was so poignant and well done. I think that’s a good thing because it’s good to have a kid that’s empathetic.

Despite what some people think, empathy is a very good thing that the world needs more of and not less.

Me: Hydrox was the original; Oreos was the knock-off.
Friend: That I knew.
Me: (thinking) Well, did you know that the Big Mac is a knock-off, even down to its name? It was a copy of the Big Boy Hamburger, by…Big Boy Restaurants.

Right now, JFK’s in the news a lot because of everything happening in the Kennedy Center.

But JFK wasn’t supposed to be the leader of the Kennedy clan, his older brother Joe Junior was supposed to be the leader. But Joseph was killed at only 29 years of age while trying to bomb some Nazis.

Their dad, Joseph Kennedy Sr., knew he wanted a son as president, so he turned to JFK and groomed him for leadership – with equally terrible results, at least for a father.

For me, I don’t need or want the kid to be president. I just want him to be happy and a productive member of society.

But, if the kid vastly outshines me – which, let’s face it, shouldn’t be terribly hard because I’m a D- celebrity at best – I feel I would have done an outstanding job as a parent.

And I hope that Alison would have been happy with how I’ve been raising our son.

She trusted him to me and that, plus the fact that he’s mine, makes me want to do a good job raising him.

Honestly, I just want the kid to be better than me.

He won’t be a knock-off, he’ll be something better than I ever was.

That’s the hope, anyway.

Him: Is he ok? (asking about an injured character from Project Hail Mary).
Me: I dunno, I hope so.
Him: I hope he’s ok too.
Me: (nodding) Let’s watch and find out. You always have to wait until to the end to find out.

We all have to wait until the story ends to find out what happened.

I hope before my story ends, I can find out, someday, if he’ll see the moon.

Location: Broadway with Sara, daydreaming about apartments and al fresco eating
Mood: tech-y
Music: things go a little bit better when you plan it (Spotify)
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An impromptu mid-weeknight out

…with hand-pulled noodles

Both boys needed a haircut, and Sara was hankering for some noodles the other day.

Me: Wait, they have tomorrow off right?
Her: Yup.
Me: You wanna just head down to Chinatown and we’ll let both boys get a haircut and you can have your hand pulled noodles?
Her: Sure!

I gave her some hand-pulled noodles a while back and she’s been enjoying them ever since.

She’s been wanting to go to this hole-in-the-wall joint in the video above for a while now and the weather was just beautiful so off we went.

In that video, the chef’s making a buncha different kinds of hand-pulled noodles, two of which we had below.

The knife-cut noodles at the end are probably the coolest in my book.

But first, the boys had to get their hair cut.

They each picked out their own style and showed it to the aunties.

After they finished, we just turned the corner and we were there. We grabbed some seats outside for food.

Normally, I hate eating outside – mainly because it’s usually in some shed on the street which is inherently dangerous, and pretty uncomfortable to boot.

But Doyers Street – which I should tell you about onea these days – is closed to cars now, so it’s a lot nicer an experience.

I accidentally ordered the wrong dish for Sara, which worked out fine because I could then indulge in my inner fatty-fat-fat.

The below pic is of the thicker, flatter hand-pulled noodles that are hand-ripped as well. That’s the kind I like the best.

I think, scientifically, carbs don’t impact the body if you eat them because you ordered the wrong food.

That’s what I tell myself, anywho.

The bowl below is of the thinner long-pulled and hand-cut noodles varity.

Me: Why are you cutting the noodles?!
Her: They’re so long!
Me: They’re supposed to be so long!

Afterwards, we took a nice (loooong) walk to the west side and hopped the train home.

The weather was just perfect.

Me: These kinda nights are my fave.
Her: Because they’re spontaenous?
Me: Yeah. I think these impromptu things we do are the most fun.
Her: Agreed.
Me: I hope the kids remember these things. I’m hoping I’m giving them some nice memories to look back on.

Not the place we went to but another famous Chinatown hand-pulled noodle joint.

I think that’s why I miss my dad so much.

Because he used to do alla these small but really meaningful things for me.

And they inspire me to want the same for his grandson that he never really got to know.

I know that I’ll never have those experiences again. But they live on in my head.

Ah, shit.

I did it again.

Location: the kid’s new middle school, hoping I made the right decision
Mood: sigh
Music: It’s my feeling we’ll win in the end (Spotify)
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