There is not a person in my house who has not said, at one point or another, “I hate those damned dogs." My mantra has become, “Relax, they won’t stay puppies forever.” It’s true, and both dogs have gone through some serious changes since we got them about three months ago.
At first, it was pure novelty. “Oh, how cute!” “Oops, get the paper towels!”
Then, the novelty wore off. “Christ! Won’t they EVER shut up?!” “Again?! You were JUST outside!”
The dogs have destroyed a pair of glasses, a bottle of allergy medicine, the legs on both the coffee table and the kitchen table, a box of ramen, a bag of potatoes, and Natasja’s homework.
“Relax, they won’t be puppies forever.”
Tonight, with the help of a couple very inexpensive retractable leashes, I took the dogs for a walk. I say walk, but they ran, tugged, sniffed, fought, tried to eat weird crap, fought some more, and ate weeds. My shoulders are tired from the tugging and my feet hurt, but I wore those dogs out. We came back in, and they both went right for the cage. Mission accomplished.
I’ve seen enough natural progression in their development to know that, in the future, they’ll be easy-going, laid back, and well-trained. We’re not there yet. Not by a long shot. But, the wild energy they exhibit and the strange situations they put me in make it worth the time. I had to jump the leashes several times, got my arms criss-crossed, and had to un-hogtie both of them. There will come a time when I’ll take them out and they’ll sniff, pee, sniff some more, and head back in. They won’t stay puppies forever. It will be easier on me, but I won’t have nearly as many stories to tell when I come back.
At age forty-five, it’s really easy for me to look at things at a distance. I met Erica’s kids when they were all teens. It hasn’t always been easy. Being a stepfather is a weird situation. Nothing can be assumed. I had to find my own relationship with each of them, and they had to figure out what to think of me. We’re very different, but I do believe we’ve come to the place where we all feel secure. It’s a kind of acceptance that comes from being family. As they each grow into the person they want to be, there’s been plenty of head-butting. I don’t always handle it the right way. Who knows if I ever have?
I’ve heard Erica say countless times: “I don’t know what to do with that child.”
And I say, “They won’t stay puppies forever.”
Within the next three years, the nest will be empty. With school years popping past like slats on a picket fence, I know that I’ll be looking back pretty soon, wondering if I did my best. I’d like to think so, but I’m not perfect. (Erica will tell exactly how if you ask.) But, when things get tough, and tempers are flaring, I have to remember, they’re going to move on, grow up, and keep getting better. I’m counting on it. I can safely say that they’ve never disappointed me. I mean that.
Last night, although I wasn’t there to share in the joy, I became a Great Uncle. If there is one thing that proves life will march on whether you’re a part of it or not, it’s a baby. A baby is a little steam roller that will flatten any preconceived notion of what you thought your life would be. Hell, I’m on the outside and I’ve noticed that, just from watching all my pals become parents. I’ve seen frustration, anger, exasperation and pure unadulterated joy.
Any parent reading this can tell you stories that were anything BUT funny at the time, but they can’t help but laugh at, today. I’ve noticed a lot of part-time dads like to think of themselves as heroes, swooping in to save the day when things get tough. Maybe some do. But real heroes, like my friends who are parents, are there every day. They may not always be available. They may not always get there in time. They may not make all dreams come true. But, they show up. They try. They do their best. All of those small victories, clawed out day by day, add up to a life well-lived. And, Lord, they have stories to tell. They bare their scars proudly.
I’m sure Connor will give Ashley many sleepless nights in the years to come. She’ll know terror, despair, and disappointment. She’ll hear herself saying the same damned things her mother did. She’ll also get to experience some things of which I've never had the pleasure: first steps, first words, first day of school, first love, first everything. She’ll get to watch a life take shape, guided by her hands. It’s the best and worst full-time job. There will come a time when she’ll be at her wit’s end. But, she’s a Thompson. She’ll show up. Every day. She’ll make mistakes, all parents do.
The best advice I can give: Enjoy the ride. They don’t stay puppies forever.
At first, it was pure novelty. “Oh, how cute!” “Oops, get the paper towels!”
Then, the novelty wore off. “Christ! Won’t they EVER shut up?!” “Again?! You were JUST outside!”
The dogs have destroyed a pair of glasses, a bottle of allergy medicine, the legs on both the coffee table and the kitchen table, a box of ramen, a bag of potatoes, and Natasja’s homework.
“Relax, they won’t be puppies forever.”
Tonight, with the help of a couple very inexpensive retractable leashes, I took the dogs for a walk. I say walk, but they ran, tugged, sniffed, fought, tried to eat weird crap, fought some more, and ate weeds. My shoulders are tired from the tugging and my feet hurt, but I wore those dogs out. We came back in, and they both went right for the cage. Mission accomplished.
I’ve seen enough natural progression in their development to know that, in the future, they’ll be easy-going, laid back, and well-trained. We’re not there yet. Not by a long shot. But, the wild energy they exhibit and the strange situations they put me in make it worth the time. I had to jump the leashes several times, got my arms criss-crossed, and had to un-hogtie both of them. There will come a time when I’ll take them out and they’ll sniff, pee, sniff some more, and head back in. They won’t stay puppies forever. It will be easier on me, but I won’t have nearly as many stories to tell when I come back.
At age forty-five, it’s really easy for me to look at things at a distance. I met Erica’s kids when they were all teens. It hasn’t always been easy. Being a stepfather is a weird situation. Nothing can be assumed. I had to find my own relationship with each of them, and they had to figure out what to think of me. We’re very different, but I do believe we’ve come to the place where we all feel secure. It’s a kind of acceptance that comes from being family. As they each grow into the person they want to be, there’s been plenty of head-butting. I don’t always handle it the right way. Who knows if I ever have?
I’ve heard Erica say countless times: “I don’t know what to do with that child.”
And I say, “They won’t stay puppies forever.”
Within the next three years, the nest will be empty. With school years popping past like slats on a picket fence, I know that I’ll be looking back pretty soon, wondering if I did my best. I’d like to think so, but I’m not perfect. (Erica will tell exactly how if you ask.) But, when things get tough, and tempers are flaring, I have to remember, they’re going to move on, grow up, and keep getting better. I’m counting on it. I can safely say that they’ve never disappointed me. I mean that.
Last night, although I wasn’t there to share in the joy, I became a Great Uncle. If there is one thing that proves life will march on whether you’re a part of it or not, it’s a baby. A baby is a little steam roller that will flatten any preconceived notion of what you thought your life would be. Hell, I’m on the outside and I’ve noticed that, just from watching all my pals become parents. I’ve seen frustration, anger, exasperation and pure unadulterated joy.
Any parent reading this can tell you stories that were anything BUT funny at the time, but they can’t help but laugh at, today. I’ve noticed a lot of part-time dads like to think of themselves as heroes, swooping in to save the day when things get tough. Maybe some do. But real heroes, like my friends who are parents, are there every day. They may not always be available. They may not always get there in time. They may not make all dreams come true. But, they show up. They try. They do their best. All of those small victories, clawed out day by day, add up to a life well-lived. And, Lord, they have stories to tell. They bare their scars proudly.
I’m sure Connor will give Ashley many sleepless nights in the years to come. She’ll know terror, despair, and disappointment. She’ll hear herself saying the same damned things her mother did. She’ll also get to experience some things of which I've never had the pleasure: first steps, first words, first day of school, first love, first everything. She’ll get to watch a life take shape, guided by her hands. It’s the best and worst full-time job. There will come a time when she’ll be at her wit’s end. But, she’s a Thompson. She’ll show up. Every day. She’ll make mistakes, all parents do.
The best advice I can give: Enjoy the ride. They don’t stay puppies forever.
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