Dear little buddy,

Posted: 20160916 in Mason, Rant., Survival

I’m trying to write you more often. It’s already been three months, and I don’t know where the time has gone. Last time I wrote, I promised myself I’d be better about writing. With work and trying to get the house ready to sell, I’m a busy man. In actuality, my mind is much, much busier than my body. Right now, I’m laying in bed unable to go to sleep. The brightness of my phone is giving away my position. Your mother could wake up at any second and nag me about still being awake so late.

Watching you grow up is so incredible, little man. I can’t believe the things you say and do. Your mother and I can’t stop taking pictures and videos. You get very upset, and then very happy, and then very sad sometimes in a short period of time. I was a kid like you once. Then, I was a teenager, and then I started dating your mom. We got married eventually, and now we have you. Nowhere in that timeline was there any kid training. I didn’t read any books on parenting. I didn’t sit through lectures or take classes on what to do. Nobody told me when to spank you and when to not. You don’t listen at all unless I raise my voice and then it brings you to tears. You run crying to mommy like I did more than yell – like I scared you or hurt your feelings. Then, I can’t bring myself to raise my voice for a while. It’s tough sometimes, but only because you have so much energy. I’m 32, your mother is 29, and we are exhausted.

I just want you to know how much we love you. We’ve already made some mistakes. You’re only two years old, but we’re doing the best we can. I know you’ll look back on these one day. I don’t know how old you’ll be. I may hide them from you until you have kids or until we have a rough spot. I just want to say now, to two-year-old you, that you’re my entire life. I may be too old and disgruntled to tell you that when you’re a senior in high school. But I’m saying it now on the record, and I hope you see it.

It’s no secret that my father and I don’t speak. I feel like I don’t know him. That’s why it’s not difficult for me to make the decision to avoid him. I don’t go to my parent’s store. I don’t go to my parent’s house. I don’t go to my grandparent’s house if I know he’s going to be there. I can see how it could be sad and depressing to others, but I don’t feel sad or depressed because he’s like a stranger to me. That’s the sad part. My father is a stranger to me. That’s why I created this blog. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep from becoming my father, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you from having to grow up like I did. Sometimes I just want to break down and relieve all my stress but I can’t. I don’t know how – I wish I could catch a break. My mind races all night and day, and I have no outlet. It never stops, there is always something stressful going on.

Sometimes, I get the feeling that I have no fucking idea what I’m doing. Like my job and my side business is just a sham, and I’m doing everything wrong. When I mess up bad, I get super defensive, angry, I make counter accusations. I don’t take criticism well – either constructive or not. It’s just a knee jerk reaction. It’s because I grew up a fuckin loser. Like I’m sure my dad did too. It’s a defense mechanism.

I try to realize what I’m doing and saying. I try to be self aware. I try to realize how people are reacting. I always try to look at things objectively. Whether it’s about me, my ideas, my business or someone else, I try to take a step back and visualize how it’s seen by other people. I feel like that’s the key to a lot in life. It’s working on my timing, tact, tone and phrasing. I’ve read a lot of books on the subject, but they’re terrible at explaining it. It’s an out of body experience really. My father is terrible about being rude to strangers. That’s one of the reasons why I think he’s a piece of shit.

One time, I was at Wendy’s with my dad. It was just him and I. I ordered, and then he ordered. He hates cheese. He said, “A number one with no cheese.” Except he didn’t say it like you just read it. We were having a regular conversation with the girl with normal voices, and then he sounded like a fuckin pyscho saying “no cheese” so slow and loud while directing an orchestra with his pointer finger. And that’s not half of it. His burger arrived with cheese on it. He obviously knew they were too stupid to understand English and hand gestures so he checked his sandwich before he even walked away from the counter – in front of the lady. And when he saw the cheese, he lost what little patience he was born with. “I said no cheese on my burger!” Except he didn’t say it like you just read it. You’d have to meet 40-year-old Dad to get the full effect. In his mind, he just went out of his way to do these stupid poor people’s job for them, and they still messed it up because they’re too stupid to read. It was embarrassing.

It was just the little everyday interactions like that. Does he know how rude he’s being? If yes – he’s being rude on purpose therefore he’s a jerk on a high horse. If no – he’s a crazy old man that has zero self awareness. It wasn’t just a stressful day for him. It happened all the time in different situations. It happened on good days. He just thought he was better than everyone else. That’s probably the reason why he thought rules and laws didn’t apply to him. I mean, that’s why I had so many speeding tickets growing up. I didn’t think the rules applied to me at all. I just went wild, and I had to learn everything in life the hard way. Now, I’m trying to not learn things the hard way.

Your mother just yelled at me for “waking her up” somehow. It’s late. I’ll stop rambling. I love you.

Dad

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