To Be a Dad is to Be Flawed, and Loved

I’ve talked before how I wasn’t ever sure I wanted to have kids of my own. I was content in being selfish. I enjoyed not having any major responsibilities, outside of paying my rent, and having enough money to go hang out with my friends after the bills were paid.
Even after I started dating my wife; we would go on winery tours or weekend-long trips to Vegas at a moment’s notice like we didn’t have a care in the world. Because we didn’t. Then this funny thing happens. You get married, you start taking life a little more seriously; you start settling down, and naturally the conversation of having kids comes up. Even then, I wasn’t sure I wanted kids.
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The Funniest Stuff I Saw on the Internet This Week 5/27/16 – Papa Does Preach

Friday is upon us once again. And after a long grueling week of work, dealing with whiny coworkers and jerk drivers; a long weekend with our equally whiny/jerk kids. So for all the parents out there hating life at their desks, and dreading going home, here is some funnies to get you through the day. You’re welcome!
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The Funniest Stuff I Saw on the Internet This Week 5/13/16 – Papa Does Preach

Well, we’ve made it through another grueling week of work, bills, life, and worst of all, kids. So, if you’re anything like me, 1) I’m sorry, but more importantly, 2) you need a good laugh right now…and probably a drink or 5, but mostly a laugh.
So here are the the things that made me laugh this week…between bouts of sobbing because because, parenting:
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Why I Must Apologize to My Son, For Doing The Right Thing.

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I’m not altogether sure I was cut out to be a parent.
Well, it’s too late now! And besides, you’re doing a great job.
That was part of a conversation the Wife and I had recently. I’m not breaking any news when I say that being a parent is probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done, with marriage being a close second.
Every-day-parenting is filled with it’s up and downs; highs and lows, and some days if definitely can feel like this little person who you’re trying so hard to raise and protect, and nurture, is doing everything possible to work against you. Yet, we parents continue on.
Sure, I give my kid a lot of shit on social media (and trust me, it’s well earned), and even here on the blog every once in a while, but for as much as I joke and talk about how much he annoys me, I have no issue pulling back the curtain and admitting that other than my wife, my son is the single most important person in my life, and I would do anything to protect him. That’s why something that happen earlier this week made me feel like I failed at that, and that I need to apologize.
Let me start this off by saying, I recognize kids are jerks. They’re jerks to their parents, and they’re certainly jerks to each other. In a weird way, that’s their job; to be assholes. That’s where we parents come in. When the jerk-behavior isn’t being directed at us (albeit the minority of the time), we’re supposed to be there to teach them how they should treat others, and communicate their feelings. But does that mean we have to stop them from not liking other people, or saying as much?
No, of course not, and as much as I love my kid, I know not everyone; certainly not ever other kid, is going to feel the same way about him that I do. And that’s what we faced earlier this week.
Ferris and I arrived at pre-school this past Tuesday, like any other day. Except this day was special for him; he was able to wear his brand new shoes that light up when he stomped his feet. I’m not going to go into how many times he stomped his feet that morning, because that would be a post in itself.
As we crossed the parking lot to school another one of Ferris’ classmates arrived, so of course he had to tell/show him his shoes. Along with the other boy was his mother, and older brother, who last year also attended the pre-school. As Ferris excitedly showed the boy his shoes the two boy gabbed only the way 4yos can about such trivial thing. I was lost in their adolescent excitement, but it didn’t last long.
As I was enjoying the moment I was abruptly pulled back to reality by hearing the older brother say to his mom, “That boy, Ferris is not a nice person. He’s mean to kids. I don’t like him.” I tried to brush it off, even when the boy repeated it to his mother. As I said, I get it, kids are kids. But the boy didn’t stop there, he continued the whole walk into school repeating some variation or another of his statement to his mother, with little to no effort on her part to try and discourage him from saying things like that.
I try very hard not to judge other parents. We have it hard enough, and no parent truly understands another parent’s struggle, because each kid is unique in how they act. Like tiny little snowflakes of terror. But I had had enough. As I expressed to my Wife when I told her what happened, even with the mean shit that kid was saying, I wasn’t mad at him. I was mad at the mom for showing no effort in stopping her son. Hell, for all I know, this isn’t the first time this conversation has happened, and maybe the mom agrees. But what I do know is that I was now pushed past my limit of acceptance of someone insulting my son.
I finally turned and looked at them both and said…nothing. I uttered not a word to either the older boy, or his mother; however, I fairly certain the look on my face probably said a thousand words, and she read every single one of them. I simply patted my son on the back, who was (thankfully) still lost in his excitement with the other boy, that he was oblivious to everything just said about him, and directed him to his classroom.
My son went about his day none the wiser to what happened that morning, and for that I am thankful. Me on the other hand? Well, I felt, and continue to feel like a huge failure. I vowed a long time ago I would never let anyone hurt my children the way I was hurt as child; not by physical or verbal abuse. I feel like I failed him that day. And before you say that it’s ok, because he didn’t hear what the other kid said; to me, that doesn’t matter, because I heard it, and I did nothing.
Then again, there is another side to all this. Maybe I did do something. Maybe I chose to break the cycle of anger that has plagued me from my youth. Maybe I chose to be the bigger person. Maybe I taught my son a valuable lesson in dealing with those who choose to insult you (even if he doesn’t know it). Maybe I did the right thing.

Being A Parent Does Not Make You A Hero

iI’m sure by now, even non-sports fans, have heard the news about (possibly former) MLB first baseman Adam LaRoche saying he is taking a leave of absence from his current team (Chicago White Sox) and deciding on whether he’s going to retire.
Why would he do this mid-spring training, where the White Sox are having a productive camp; in a hotly contested division they could easily win; leaving possibly $13 million of guaranteed money on the table? What could bring about such madness?!? The club asked him to dial back the amount of time LaRoche brought his son (Drake, 14yo) around the club house.
Wait, what?!?
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Cartoons, Fun, and Figuring Out Emotions – Yo Kai Watch Sponsored Post

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Growing up as an only child with a single parent, I had a lot of time to myself. Most days I was home alone from the time school ended (usually around 2:30-3:00pm) until around 7:00pm when my mom would get home from work. Saturday mornings were more of the same, as my mom would sleep in and recover from a long week.
Like most kids, my free time was filled with video games, comic books, and playing outside with my friends. But, the thing I loved to do the most was watch cartoons.
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Good Man?

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You’re a good man! I have heard this reinforcement from my wife on countless occasions. I know it’s not just lip-service either; I know she truly means it, but even after 10 years together I still have a hard time believing it. I don’t think I’m a bad person by any means, and I’m certainly not worried that other think I’m a bad person, because that’s just not true.
Sure, like anyone else I can be an asshole from time to time. But what I am, is afraid. Afraid what I could become; afraid of what my future may hold, afraid of my past catching up with me; afraid that my son will one day see me as I see my parents. This is the real reason I believe the Wife reminds me regularly that I’m a good man, because she knows I need to hear it; because she knows the scars are so deep; because she knows I don’t believe it, especially when it comes to raising our son.
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New Year, Cookies, Cocoa, and #PinkRelief

The holidays are a special time for so many reasons. For some, it’s spending time with family, and for others, it’s the joy of the winter weather. But for people like me, it’s all about the food.
I love to eat, especially foods of the sweet variety; the sweeter the better. Christmas brings out all my favorite sweet, tantalizing treats. Cookies, cakes, pies, you name, I’m eating it.
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Papa Does Preach 2015: A Year in Review

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Well, we’ve come to the end of another year. And boy was 2015 a doozy for your old pal Papa. I would love to do a top 10 or even 15 posts of 2015, but I clearly don’t blog enough for all that. So, instead, I give you my top 5 favorite things from 2015.
I can honestly say that over this last year, blogging consumed my life. You wouldn’t know it with how little I write, but each day of 2015 was filled with something that had to do with the PDP brand (i.e. blog post or social media update)…well, minus those 3 days over July 4th weekend when the Wife convinced me to go to some remote cabin out in West Virginia where there was no WiFi…and NO CELL SERVICE!! I was convinced for a moment she was going to kill me and leave my body out there, but then I remembered she refuses to be left alone with Ferris.
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I Don't Get Paid Enough For This Shit!

I love my son – really I do. I feel like I needed to say that, as much of the content on my Facebook page, and some of the stories I’ve told here might suggest otherwise. Being a parent has it’s cool moments (or so I’m told), but it also can easily rival the worst jobs I’ve ever had. Ok, not all of it, but right now driving my kid around has become the bane of my existence. Not only does he complain the whole time until he gets to listen to the music only he wants to listen to, but he’s become the mother of all backseat drivers – constantly questioning where we’re going, what direction I’m going, and why I ran the yellow light. Come to think of it, he’s become his mother.
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