Tag: parenting

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Grief is the price you pay for wonderful things

It is a concern

Headed back out to middle-of-nowhere Brooklyn again the other day to pick up the kid from his sleepaway camp.

He was grinning ear-to-ear when I got him.

Him: Papa!
Me: Hey, kiddo! Man, you got dark! I hope you put on some sunscreen. How was it?

He told me that he had a great time and made a lotta new friends, which was exactly what I was hoping to hear.

When we packed, I asked if he wanted to bring his guitar and he said yes, so we did just that.

Well, it turns out that it’s a good thing that we did because he ended up playing for everyone twice.

The first time was at a talent show…

…but the second time was on the last full day, where he played for the entire camp.

Me: What song did you sing?
Him: Riptide!

I shot the picture below to my MIL.

Me: I wish we could do something about his quiet and reserved nature…
Her: It is a concern

The only thing that bummed me out was that he told me that when it was his turn to talk about Alison, he said that he was ok because he didn’t remember her enough to miss her.

That absolutely gutted me, but I didn’t say anything, because we have to let true things be true.

Then again, if he remembered her, he wouldn’t be functional.

Because all she ever wanted was to be his mom and he would have been devastated at losing her.

On that note, he did get super sad that night at dinner.

Him: (sadly) I miss all my friends.
Me: (gently) Then that means you had a wonderful time. Grief is the price you pay for wonderful things.
Him: But it’s so hard.
Me: (nodding) We’re always gonna miss wonderful things when they’re gone. That’s why I miss your mom all the time, because she was my wonderful thing.

Location: heading out to dinner at the Flatiron to meet my SIL’s new fella
Mood: curious
Music: I got a lump in my throat ’cause you’re gonna sing (Spotify)
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Everything’s moving at lightning speed

Plus jewelry in Chinatown

Him: What was that?!
Me: What was what?
Him: You didn’t feel that?
Me: (puzzled) No. (later) Whoa, ok, I felt that! I think we just had an earthquake.

The kid was settling down for the night when the August 2nd, 2025 east coast earthquake hit.

Nothing really happened in the pad, although I did do a cursory inspection around the place.

It’s kinda crazy how much the world’s changing yet we’re all a bit inured to it all.

I had to run an errand in Chinatown for a relative and I also promised the kid we’d head down so he could have some pasteries, so the Firecracker, he, and I all headed down the other day.

While we were there, the Firecracker found some jewelry that she fell in love with, so I bought her a little something. I’ll tell you more about that someday.

As for the kid, well, he got what he really wanted all along.

The Firecracker ended up hanging out in Chinatown to do her own thing while the kid and headed back – but not before stopping by a soccer store so he could check it out.

He’s grown a solid inch since March, which is already something I’m already trying to wrap my head around, but more than that, he’s got a lotta opinions now.

And we’re doing things like checking out stores for stuff for him to buy.

When I was a kid, I remember my mom telling someone that we were growing up so fast whereas I remember everything being such a draaaaaaaggg…

Now I get it.

Everything’s moving at lightning speed, and I’m worried it’ll all be over before I realize it.

In my head, the kid looks like the 18-month-old above.

But he’s not anymore and I feel so many different things all at once about that.

Location: home, organizing a ton of boxes
Mood: nostalgic
Music: all over, I feel the earth move under my feet (Spotify)
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Another school year almost over

Still showing up

Him: Are you sure you’re gonna come?
Me: I haven’t missed one yet, have I?
Him: No…I just wanted to make sure.

It’s been super busy here for a multitude of reasons, least of which is that the kid is winding up his school year.

This means that there’s one event after another, of varying degrees of entertainment.

The first was his end of year recital, where he played a cover of Billie Eilish’s Lovely on the guitar.

I should mention that the Firecracker’s never missed a single one – which is something considering that not all the kids were as talented as mine.

She’s the best, truly.

As for the song he chose, I’d never heard the song before and it was pretty maudlin, which was a bit concerning.

But, he did a great job and was pretty jazzed about it, so I just enjoyed it for what it was worth.

The next was his dance recital, which was absolutely adorbs.

I couldn’t get a good clean shot for video, but another parent was able to get some vids of them dancing.

Another one was the kid’s last publishing party, where the parents come in and check out all the artistic stuff that the kids were working on for the past few months.

I brought a huge jug of Dunkin coffee; several of the other parents brought a ton of delish looking carbs.

I’m proud to say that I didn’t have any but, man, did I want to.

In any case, with the portfolio of work due in just over a week, it’s been stressful around here.

Really didn’t have the 2-3 hours to spare this morning on top of the previous two events I went to.

But I told you once that it’s so important for little kids to have their parents show up to things. And there’s no “parents” here, it’s just me.

So, I showed up.

Gotta say, it was sweet to see him so happy to see me in the classroom.

There were another three or four events that were also end-of-year related but I’ll tell you about those in the next entry.

Location: Hoboken, playing Codenames and dreaming of more food
Mood: hot and bothered
Music: Always in my head space but I know some day I’ll make it out of here (Spotify)
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Not everybody

Two good samaratins pulling a guy off the tracks at Times Square the other day.

Joan Murray survived a 14,500 Foot Fall

Last year, I saw a guy fall into the tracks at Times Square.

Two fellas immediately hopped into the tracks to save him, which I thought was pretty admirable.

But whenever I see something like that, I think of an old joke that goes something like this:

A songbird was flying one winter day when it got so cold that he dropped right outta the clear blue sky onto a farm.

The bird lay there helpless and injured until a horse walked by and, not noticing the small bird, dropped a huge steaming pile of hot poop on him.

The poop, however, was warm and made the bird feel much better – so much better, in fact, that he started to sing. But then a cat heard him sing, found him, and dug him out.

The bird was happy to be outta the poop, but the cat didn’t give him a chance to thank him because the cat gobbled him up and went on with his day.

There are three (shitty) morals to his story:

    1. Not everybody who shits on you is your enemy.
    2. Not everybody who digs you outta shit is your friend.
    3. When you’re in deep shit, shut up.
This is a picture of when a bird pooped on the Firecracker – which happens with alarming regularity.

Now, there’s actually a real life version of this joke about a woman named Joan Murray who survived a 14,500 foot fall, which is almost three miles of free fall straight down.

See, she was sky diving and BOTH her parachutes failed.

Normally, this would be just a death sentence, but she ended up crashing into a huge ant hill – but not just any ant hill, a fire ant anthill.

If you don’t know what a fire ant is, it’s a venomous ant that can these intensely painful stings.

Normally, if you fell onto a fire ant hill, that would be at the very least, an incredibly painful experience – most likely you’d end up in the hospital.

In Joan’s case, however, the softness of the mound coupled with the intense pain of the venom kept her alive with the former softening her impact and the latter keeping her heart beating.

She ended up in a coma with shattered bones on the right side of her body and a few lost teeth, which required 20 reconstructive surgeries, 17 blood transfusions, a metal rod into her right leg, and 5-inch spikes grafted onto into her pelvis.

But she survived.

And she survived precisely because these fire ants were trying to kill her.

Joan actually died in 2022, 23 years after her accident, of cancer (unfortunately – fucking cancer…) with nary a parachute nor fire ant in sight.

(c) Unilad

I’m telling you this story because I see how the kid sees the world: In simple terms of black and white.

Children and the stupid see things so simply binary.

It’s difficult for me to figure out how to explain these subtle nuances in the world, especially in light of world events, to him and, well, generally stupid people, who are uncomfortable with grey.

Soupy grey is never appealing, but it’s still more realistic than stark black-and-white.

Him: If Donald Trump lies all the time, how did he become president?
Me: (whistling) Hoo-boy. That’s gonna take a little while to explain. Not now though.

Location: downright balmy 40+ degree NYC
Mood: not completely frozen
Music: it’s your heart, it’s alive, it’s pumping blood (Spotify)
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Sticking, for some reason

The algorithm I came up with

Did you know that Mark Twain was instrumental in the creation of the bra?

Or that Charles Darwin invented the office chair?

Or that Brian May, the guitarist and co-founder of Queen, is also a celebrated astrophysics that helped NASA land a rocket on an asteroid?

People that reach high levels of achievement in disparate fields have always fascinated me, with my personal hero being Hedy Lamarr.

The question is whether this kinda thing can be taught. Like, can a parent teach someone to be successful in many areas?

Long before the kid came into existence, I was trying to figure this out for whatever kid I might eventually have.

The algorithm that I came up with:

Lifetime curiosity + the ability to properly research + discipline = success in various fields

Because, at least for me, I try to keep my childhood curiosity alive.

With the internet and all the tools out there for research, it’s a lot easier than it used to be to find out information – although separating the wheat from the chaff is more difficult than ever what with the sheer amount of information out there.

Have no idea if this is correct, or if it’ll work with everyone, but I believe hope it will.

Suppose only time will tell.

Me: Try it. Nothing beats beets.
Him: I don’t like beets.
Me: Well, if you like candy and cake, you should like beets.
Him: What? Why?
Me: Well, most American sugar comes from beets.
Her: Is that true? How do you know all this stuff?
Me: (shrugging) I always wonder things. So, then I look it up and a shocking amount of it sticks in my head for some reason.

Location: home, trying to make sense of things
Mood: annoyed
Music: suddenly I see why the hell it means so much to me (Spotify)
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Sunday in Greenpoint

Searching for burgers

Her: What about that truck?
Me: (squinting) It looks like they have “respect, compassion, caring, and kindness,” but no burgers.

It was raining cats and dogs for part of the weekend and the other part was cold, so we met up with the Surgeon and Steele to head over to the Ferox Ninja Park in Brooklyn so the kid could get some exercise.

The Firecracker had to level up with some coffee first, though.

As soon as we arrived, I was hungry and started my quest for food.

We thought there was a food truck across from the park but it ended up being a volunteer group’s truck instead.

So, despite my wanting a burger for brekkie, we ended up heading to Compton’s Sandwich Shop instead and ordering a buncha breakfast wraps.

Me: Can you put bacon in them?
Him: Which one?
Me: All of them?

They ended up not doing that so I went back to say something. The manager apologized profusely and comped up like four kombucha drinks, which was nice.

Afterward, the kids spent the next three hours playing like crazy.

I, of course, got hungry again.

Him: Burgers?
Me: I’ve been wanting a burger all day – heck yeah!

We ended up ordering from this joint called Jubilee Marketplace in Greenpoint which is pretty well-known for amazingly good $2.50 burgers.

Think of small shake shack burgers.

Me: How many did you order?
Him: 20?
Me: Good call.

We ate 19 of them on a park bench in the chilly sun.

There was one left after we devoured them, and I took that one home for the kid for dinner.

All in all, not a bad way to spend the day.

Location: a musical with my son this morning by Ajna
Mood: angry
Music: I’m all messed up, I’m so out of line (Spotify)
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Physical education and spite

Oh, yeah

I raise my son like my parents raised me – after all, it’s all I know.

But the one thing that I do differently is to give the boy a sense that physical education is as important as a mental one.

Now, my dad swam every single day for at least 90 minutes a day, for years.

Yet, he never emphasized physical fitness to me, something that I picked up myself after getting beaten up one-too-many times.

On that note, the boy’s really been excelling at his swimming lately.

And he also got his first stripe on his new belt.

Him: Are you proud of me?
Me: Super proud! But more importantly, are you proud of yourself?
Him: Yes!
Me: Good – because that’s really the most important thing.

As for me, I need to work out a lot more because I keep finding myself out and about.

The Frenchman and Bryson swung by my hood the other night, so we hit up my local dive bar and caught each other up on what been going down.

Him: How is deep fried cauliflower any better than French fries?
Me: Because it’s deep-fried cauliflower!
Both of them: (shake their heads)

I also filled in the Frenchman on why I pick my particular types of physical activities.

Frenchman: Wait, is that why you do BJJ?
Me: Yup! Bryson said I was too much a germaphobe to ever do anything like BJJ.
Bryson: So, Logan’s been doing BJJ all these years purely to prove me wrong.
Me: My level of petty spite is pretty spectacular.
Frenchman: And you’re really a germaphobe?
Bryson and me: (nodding) Oh, yeah.

Hey, it works is all I’m say’n…

Location: filming Scenic Fights all day at Paxibellum
Mood: exhausted
Music: I’m just gonna keep on dreaming’ of the way it used to be (Spotify)
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Square-jawed

Tough food=tough people?

Still waiting to get my ceiling repaired.

BUT the leaking seems to have stopped so I’ll take that as a win.

The Firecracker accidentally made butter the other day while whipping up heavy cream.

Her: Sorry about that! I thought it was cold enough.
Me: It’s fine – we now have homemade butter!

I’m definitely a fan of homemade stuff, regardless of how it happens.

On that note, a buddy of mine started chewing this jaw strenghtener lately.

Human faces seemed to have been shaped by two major things: (a) violence and (b) the type of food we eat.

The classic angular face for both men and women is innately attractive to us because it’s a sign of vitality and strength so when we meet people with soft faces and jaws, it seems “wrong” to us, but we can’t exactly explain how.

That’s why it’s a compliment is to call a man “square-jawed,” and not “round-jawed.”

(c) Someone else

Unfortunately, as the years go on, more and more people will start having these softer features because we:

    1. avoid violence as a whole, and
    2. eat more-and-more ultra-processed foods and a hallmark of ultra-processed foods are that they’re not gritty – as they take out all the fiber – and not tough.

Think applesauce versus a tough piece of steak or nuts.

Was telling the Firecracker that the danger here is that the baseline level of what is “soft,” should be, say, the level of well-cooked chicken but, because of things like whitebread and applesauce, the floor is much lower.

This, in turn, means that what was once considered “soft” is now considered tough because the curve changed.

I’m always fighting the boy to eat more real food; to wit, minimally processed foods like whole raw nuts and fresh fruit.

No less than four of his friends cannot eat normal – non-ultra processed – foods at all.

I know at least one adult who can’t eat something unless a machine made it.

So far, the boy’s been good about listening to me when it comes to food but I’m worried that his peers will convince him that “normal” means “ultra-processed” while actual real food is strange.

What a world we live in these days.

Parenting means that there’s a never-ending litany of things to be concerned about.

Him: Can I have more cucumbers?
Me: You can have all the cucumbers you want, kid.
Him: But we don’t have that much.
Me: I’ll get more. You can always eat as many vegetables as you want and if we run out, I’ll get more, don’t you worry.

Location: A dive bar with Bryson and the Frenchman, enjoying $5 mixed drinks of questionable quality.
Mood: fatty-fat-fat
Music: I find that old habits don’t die (Spotify)
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Fixing the kid’s cracked tooth

Getting screwed by Biden

While I generally like that the boy takes after me in most regards, there are some things that I wish he wouldn’t.

Just like I did in May of last year, my kid cracked his tooth a while ago in his BJJ class and we went to the dentist for a cleaning and general checkup, but I wasn’t expecting to repair his tooth during this particular visit.

In any case, I had earmarked 15 minutes of buffer to make sure we made his appointment.

What I didn’t factor in was that President Biden was gonna be in the Upper West Side that day.

Holy cow, what a mess.

Gotta think that Biden was crossing at W 79th because we were stuck there for a while before we decided to try out the subway.

Luckily, that was still running.

So, we were late when we arrived.

Unlike the last several times I went to this dentist, they were actually much more well run such that we were seen only 30 minutes after our scheduled time, instead of the usual hour/90-minutes.

This was an improvement.

However, unlike when the kid went to his regular dentist, this one didn’t give him any laughing gas to do his cleaning.

He wasn’t thrilled but he was still a trooper.

But, we weren’t done.

Her: You know your son’s tooth is cracked, yes?
Me: I am aware.
Her: Do you want to fix it?
Me: I dunno. We only scheduled the cleaning. He still has to make his Chinese class.
Her: Oh, you’ll be done in 15 minutes. I would do it because it’s only going to get worse; it won’t get better if we don’t fix it.

We left with only five minutes to spare but this time, the train let us down because it skipped our stop.

So, we had to run to his class and ended up being 20 minutes late.

It was a pretty exhausting day, but I’m glad that the kid’s tooth is taken care of.

Hopefully, we can go another year before he needs to get his teeth looked at again.

Firecracker: You know you’re supposed to go every six months, right?
Me: Nah, we’ll be fine.
Her: Logan Lo!
Me: Fiiine, I’ll consider it.

Location: the kid’s BJJ gym, telling him he has to wear his mouthguard
Mood: beat tired
Music: White teeth teens are up for it (Spotify)
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Music Together

My Son’s First Recital

So many people did so many things for Alison, me, and the kid when she first got sick.

But there’s a story I don’t think I ever told you about which is this small little group called Music Together and this woman named Deanna DeCampos.

My memory is completely fuzzy during this time but she somehow heard about Alison and me and offered for me to take the kid there. I only went a few times because I was busy so with Alison but we had sitters that brought the kid there the whole time that Alison was sick.

It was such a godsend to have some place for him to go and be happy.

And when Alison died, they kept saying the kid should continue to come but, after a while, I felt I was taking advantage of their generosity so I eventually stopped but a huge part of the kid’s insane love of music is because of them.

Now, I’ve only ever shown his face once in this blog, and this is the second time. He’s the munchkin in the front – he was maybe just two years old here.

I honestly think that a major reason why the kid never felt the unbelievable sadness of what was going on with Alison was because of the joy of music that Music Together gave him.

So, if you’re in NYC and want to support a wonderful organization with some amazing instructors and have your kid love music as much as mine does, drop them a line.

I cannot recommend them highly enough.

Speaking of the kid’s love of music, he had his very first recital the other night with his guitar teacher.

He was the only kid that both played an instrument and sang a song at the same time.

I was am super proud.

He def needs to sing louder – but I was still a proud papa.

Afterward, I brought the Firecracker and both kids to that Irish pub because (a) I was in the mood for some good fish and chips and (b) I wanted to thank the bartender for finding my iPad and stuff.

Wrote about the bar a while ago.

He def needs to sing louder – but I was still a proud papa.

Got the kid a burger but the rest of us had some killer fish and chips – beer battered not breaded.

Alison always wanted him to learn the violin and I do my darndest to try to respect her wishes but I couldn’t imagine the thought of years of screeching before he got good.

Then again, he’s been a natural with music thanks to Music Together so maybe it wouldn’tve been that bad.

Him: Did you hear people singing the song when I was singing?!
Me: I did!
Him: That was so cool!
Me: It was. (turning and whispering to the Firecracker) Hopefully, he’ll wanna go to med school or law school, though.
Her: Oh, hush, Lo.

Location: at a swimming pool, writing this and trying not to get splashed.
Mood: proud
Music: Tell me why, ain’t nothin’ but a heartache (Spotify)
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