Lessons from the original Superman

Father's day is always a fickle time for me.  Today marks 30 years since the last Father's day I spent with Sarge.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  It was the first time I was able to "purchase" a father's day breakfast for him.  McDonald's had a promotion that year if you colored a sheet that was provided by them and took it in for Father's day, your dad would get a free breakfast.  I didn't know it, but that would be the last time I would spend a Father's day with my dad.  Five months later, just 2 months shy of my 13th birthday, he was gone. 

I have been without him longer than he was with me. Still he has been a powerful influence in my life. His words and actions have permeated me for the remaining years I have been without him. His words float over my head in everything I do and say to others.  Today as in everyday I honor the Superman he was to me. 

Little lessons he left me with:

• Love thy neighbor - Sarge was the neighborhood guy.  Someone needed a tool, he would be the guy to come and borrow one from.  If your car broke down in the middle of a delluge of rain, he was the person you called. Not only would he give you a ride but  he would try to fix that car or get you the help you needed.  The day of his funeral I met so many people that were touched by all the things I never knew he did.  He was a giving person who loved humanity.  No one was ever more or less than him, we were all of the human kind and we should all help each other in this world. So when I lose my patience in Los Angeles traffic I remember, we are all human and we all need to look out for one another. 
• Appreciate the simple things - Music was always blaring on any given day at our home.  Sarge would play anything from classical music, swing, to Mariachis.  He would sing to his heart content without abandonment, even though his voice was that of nails on a chalkboard.  Simple outings were the catalyst to "great adventures" as he would call it.  So it was no surprise I was excited when he took me to the city of Corona for an adventure to seek out a great doughnut. Who cares if it just a few miles from our city, it was somewhere new we had never been.  It was his appreciation of the simple joy in life that has gotten me through some rough times.  Seeking out that hole in the wall cafe and people watching has brought me to a calm place where I could think things through.  Listening to a favorite song can take me back in time to a wonderful place when things were calm and fun.
• Laugh at yourself -  Sarge was the original dork. Never afraid to make a fool of himself and laugh along the way.  He made sure I never took myself or life to seriously.  I would get in funks as a child and some how he always managed to make me laugh at his antics.  He would point out the great humor in things, even if it was the crappiest day ever.  So now, I manage to look at life and see the humor in things.  It makes me smile and I can be the same goofball my dad was to me with my children and see the smile I had as a child being reflected back at me through the kids.
• Never forget your history - I never knew my grandparents, they were gone before I was born but I definitely knew about them.  Sarge never failed to take me on his lap to tell me of things when he was growing up, about how his family life was with his parents.  He took me to Mexico to meet my extended family to develop a relationship with those who carried our history. He wanted me to grow up proud of how far our family has come and how far I could take the rest of our history.  One of the major reasons I blog about my children and myself is to carry on that rich tradition.  Much is to be said about storytelling.  You never know what lessons you are learning from your own rich family history.  
• Get up and succeed - He picked me off the floor after I fell off a bike, cleaned up my scrape and placed me back on the bike I had just fallen off.  Giving up was not an option.  I was crying my eyes out and wanting to give up, but Sarge encouraged me.  Every step of the way he was there to cheer me on.  Little successes where HUGE accomplishments. He made sure I understood that no matter if I had an audience or not. I was the master of my own pride with all those accomplishements.  So when I was able to do the major things in life like graduate from college or simply help potty train a two year old I could stand with pride and never give up.

There are so many more that I can list but these in particular have helped me get through the good, the bad, and ugly that life has out there.  All he did for me in the short 12 years of my life has stayed with me.  It's not about time that you spend with your children, it's what you do in whatever time you have with them. 

For the men who create those strong bonds with their children I salute you.  You never know what your teaching your little ones and what life lessons they are learning along the way. 

Feliz dia del padre Papi.  Te extrano muchismo! <3>

Daddies are important to daughters

Big Cheese has been less than gracious with me lately, which is not a surprise. This is why I decided not to continue the relationship while Thing Two was a mere 4 weeks old. A few months back Big Cheese was upset with me and it manifested itself in front of the children and in public. It upset me and I did all I could to not cry, to hold my head high and not let his words dig at who I am.  I broke once I got home and while I tried not to have the children witness this moment, Thing Two heard me. She crawled into my bed and asked " Does Daddy not love you? He's grumpy. Don' t cry". My heart broke even further.  What was she learning from him?

I have been without my Daddy for 29 years. I have been without him longer than he was with me. I am filled with gratitude of all he taught me in the small amount of time. Especially those moments he taught me as I observed how he conducted his life.  He was always kind to Mami even when she was less than gracious in the heat of an arguement. He never disrespected her and was always a gentleman. He opened doors, paid bills, took Mami on "breakfast dates" while I was at school. The moments my Daddy thought I wasn't watching, I was.  One particular memory I have is of him leaning over and kissing Mami on the forehead as he held her hand.

It's distinct memory and he taught me how a woman should be treated. How I should be treated. How relationships, no matter what, are always about love and respect. This lesson that did not escape his lips but was manifested in actions, was what gave me the strength to walk away that moment with Big Cheese. It's what made me realize that I was not being treated right in a relationship and that two small eyes were watching.

Fathers are important, especially to their daughters. They are the first male relationship they have. The one that teaches them how to be treated as a woman. So I implore you Fathers out there with daughters, she is watching you and basing what you do to her future relationships. Be kind. Be respectful. Be loving when it gets hard. She' s watching you for clues into her future relationships.

I hope that Big Cheese can see while he doesn't need to love me, he does need to strive to be respectful for both of the Things.

John Mayer gave insight on how relationships are a part of these relationships in the song Daughter. Listen here

First Heart Break

You know in life you always have that first heart break.  It never crossed my mind that Thing Two would experience it from the one man who should carry her heart like a delicate piece of china. Big Cheese broke her heart this weekend and I want to tear his apart for making her feel like that. 

I am typing this with bags and dark circles under my eyes. My heart breaks for my baby girl.  Saturday was her big day.  She got her first ever trophy that day. Big Cheese, no where in sight.  Las Vegas to be precise on his location.  I had a huge discussion with him about this decision. Big Cheese had known about this big day since January when the soccer schedules were given.  I would have seen it as a mere over sight had it not been for the fact that he never backed out of going. 

To top it off, it was his weekend with the Things.  He actually called me to cover for him so that he could go and he would take the next two weekends to be with the children.  I just couldn't believe he was going to miss her big day.  When I reminded him of the day and that I would cover if he still wanted to go, he said "Thanks".  I felt the blood heat up under my skin.  In my head "Thanks" was a brush off of what this would do to my little dolls heart.  I just answered "No need to Thank me, you will need to explain to the Things why you were not there".  Of course I got no answer.

Lately we haven't been seeing eye to eye on things, and this just exacerbated those feelings. He had already let our children witness their father get into my face and yell and call me names in public.  Their little hearts were suffering and all I wanted was some kind of normal for them.  We argued once more before he left.  Big Cheese thought I was just upset because he was going to Las Vegas.  This wasn't like the times before, I wasn't concerned about our family, this time it was our children.   It was a big day, a moment that is fleeting.  It will never be her first trophy ever again.  Las Vegas will always be there, but this moment is gone.  Thing Two now holds the memory of her father being absent from that moment.

You must think by now "Well she is three, she can't possibly remember anything".  All day on Saturday we were busy, happy, or so I thought.  I saw a glimpse of her searching the crowd when she got the trophy, a slight sad look.  I just left it alone, hoping it was just me that saw that look.  Sunday morning as we ate breakfast with no one but her and I eating at the table she uttered the phrase I long feared would come sooner or later, "Mommy, Daddy wasn't at my banquet.  It made me sad.  Zoe had her daddy there".  Her face was sullen and her eyes watered and filled with salty tears that I kissed away for her.  It's all I could do.  I couldn't discount those feelings.  Her little heart was broken. 

Times like these I wish he could see what he does by some of his actions.  The same actions that made me walk away from him. Only this time it was not a 39 year old woman who's heart he broke, it was a three year old sweet vivacious little girl who's heart he broke. 

I was so sad and mad.  Mad that he had the ability to chose his own interest over his children.  How does one make things better?  I don't know, but I am going to try my best to be there and to help both my children heal from all this.  I just hope the happy feelings out weigh those that reside in her heart at this moment.

Questions to my daddy…

Me age 5…
“Daddy why do Giraffe’s have spots?”

Dad:
“I don’t know baby, we should find out”

• The next week he ordered a National Geographic card set about animals.

Me age 8…
“Daddy, why can’t I do better in my handwriting? I got a D in class for that ”

Dad:
“You just need to practice. You will get better”

• That month he ordered a special handwriting practice book from Mexico and he had me do it everyday after homework.

Me age 10…
“Daddy, why am I so dark? Why can’t I be like Barbie?”

Dad:
“Because you are Mexican and you have Indian blood that runs through your veins”

• Within the span of a year he should be pictures of my maternal grandmother, took me to the library to learn of the history of Mexican people and South American Incas.

Me age 11…
“Daddy, do babies really come from storks? Do they give them to you at the hospital”

Dad:
“No, but we can talk about it”

• We had “the talk” and he had me watch “The miracle of life” on PBS. Which I am sure is the reason why I was so grossed out and swore off sex until I was ready to go through child birth.

Me age 12:
“Why did you have to go Daddy?”

Dad...





He left me all too soon. I had many more questions. I am sure he had more answers for me. He was that kind of dad. If he didn’t know the answer he found it for me. He gave me the gift of researching my questions, and not giving them to me immediately. He facilitated my learning, even if sometimes there were some things that were embarrassing. For all that you answered Daddy, THANK YOU. Happy Father’s day, I still miss you.

Daddy

Sometimes I believe I may judge Big Cheese unfairly.  He may not be a horrible father, he just isn't the type of father I am accustomed to. I expected someone to father my children the way my dad did for me.
Today is my Daddy's birthday.  He has been gone from our lives since I was 12.  I had him for 12 glorious years.  He was the best Daddy anyone could have.  It is because of him I am the person I am today.  He taught me so much.  A lot of what he taught me are things I want my babies to learn as well.


Things that made him an exceptional father:

• He called my half sister his daughter .  Not step daughter, not my wife's child, HIS daughter.  He did for her what her own father probably would never have done for her.  He was her dad as much as he was mine.
• He loved my mother.  Despite her hot Latin temper, despite the difference in opinion.  He would grab her hand even when she was mad.  He would kiss her cheek and hold doors for her.  He respected her as a woman, as the mother of his child.
• He would pass up a night out dancing with friends if no one was able to take care of me.  He would even send my mom out with those friends and he would stay home with me.  He never wanted me to feel that other things were more important than keeping us a family.
• He made pancakes on Saturday mornings and he made sure that we ate meals at the table as a family.  During these meals he would ask me how school was and about what I wanted to do.  He never belittled me as a child.  He listened and encouraged all the dreams I layed out as a child.
• He had a variety of friends from all walks of life.  They were poor migrant workers, well to do lawyers he worked with, middle class friends from the barrio he grew up in East Los Angeles.  He exposed me to all kinds of races, ethnicity's, backgrounds.  "mija no one is above anyone, we are just people, humans"
• He loved all kinds of art.  He would take me to museums to see art work.  He would also take me to East Los Angeles and show me the paintings on the walls by local artists. I would spend hours in the garage watching him come up with his own pieces of art.  That is when he would show me brush strokes and how to shade to create effects on drawings. I can still smell the oil paints and hear the stroking of the brush on the canvas.
• He made sure we knew our heritage.  He found his extended family in Mexico City that my grandfather left when he crossed the border with my grandmother.  We were never to lose touch with them again.  We would spend summer vacations and Christmas vacations visiting the large family we had there.  I learned the culture, the food, the art first hand.  I still speak with those family members years after our first meeting.
• He fought for other's rights and made sure we knew that when someone is being treated unfairly to speak up.  My father was a police officer and he was always the police officer even after he retired the badge.  If there was something that wasn't right, he tried to make it right.  I don't know how many times I would see my dad stop something that was not right.  I remember the neighbor who had just moved in came to our house seeking to call her parents because her drunk husband had beaten her.  My dad promptly walked over to her house.  He told her husband "the next time you lay a hand on her, you will have a lot more than the police to deal with.  I will give this one moment for you to sober up and think about what you are doing to your wife and to your children".  He never touched her again. 
• He never missed one school assembly, girl scout meeting, gymnastic practice, field trip.  When he did he was sick or like that one time during the gas crisis, he was in line for gas.  If he did miss any event he made sure to ask how it went.  He would listen and ask questions, and i knew he was really listening to me.
• He was the funniest silliest person I knew.  We would laugh for hours sometimes because of something silly he would say to us.  I still remember him singing Oliva Newton Johns song "Heart attack" as "Fart Attack".  Hours and hours of entertainment with him.
• He was the best story teller.  He could make a boring newspaper article come to life.  The tone in his voice, the added story lines.  He made me interested in the written and spoken word early in life for this reason.

I miss my Daddy everyday in different degrees of longing for him. He was just perfection to me even in imperfect situations.  For these reasons I find it hard to see being a father any less than what I was given. I have to cut Big Cheese some slack sometimes.  Daddy was a size 9 shoe, but boy those are some large size 9 shoes to fill. 

Taking my breath away

Thing One having a good day with Big Cheese. 

I knew that someday I was going to get questions from the Things about why Mommy and Daddy were in different homes. In my imaginary world I was hoping that this would NEVER come up since Thing One was 18 months old and Thing Two was 4 weeks old when we split up. Thing Two has never known really what it was like to live with Big Cheese, all she knows is two homes and she gets to see him Monday through Friday for a couple of hours. Thing One did however miss Big Cheese the first months he was gone from the house. He would often go and knock on the door to the garage, where he could find Big Cheese in his man cave. He would yell out “DADDY!”, his little mouth would droop down to a pout when he got no answer. It would break my heart when he would do that. Eventually Big Cheese and I set up a time and date for him to see the children, and things were ok for sometime and Thing One became adjusted to the routine.

For the past three weeks Thing One has been really whining a lot. He has not been as complacent to go to the baby sitters in the morning. He clings on for dear life and tells me “I want to stay home, pwease call daddy!”. I figured he was just going through a latent separation anxiety stage. I thought back to the day all this whining started. Then it clicked, it was the day in his Gymboree Sports class when I was the only Mommy there. All his friends had their Daddies. He turned to me and asked “Where Daddy?” I lied to him, I hated doing it, but I did. “He’s at work honey”. Big Cheese was actually home or out with his brother, watching a sports event on television, drinking beer. I had often asked him to try and do every other weekend with the kids, for their sake and for mine. He just told me not to tell him what to do and how to run his life. Big Cheese emphasized that he had things to do for himself, like laundry, on his days off. I was infuriated with that answer because in my mind parenting is not just Monday through Friday and things can get done with children around. Is it harder to do, yes. Is it impossible, no. I eventually let go of the idea of the children going to see Big Cheese every other weekend.

Last week I was teaching Thing One his last name and that we all have last names. We went down the list of his family. Big Cheese, Grandpa Cheese, Nana Cheese, Big Brothers Cheese, Thing Two, and Thing One, all had the last name “Olivas”. Thing One then asked about my last name. His little eyebrow furrowed when I told him my last name. He searched my face for an answer and questioned “You not Mommy Olivas?” I just responded quickly and simply “No, mommy is Gomez”. He still looked for more in my face. I moved on to another topic. Then later that night as I put him to bed he asked, with his very big sad baby brown eyes staring at me “Why Daddy not sleep here mommy?”. That one question took my breath away. I had to get my breath back and just had to remind him that we had different houses. I just gave simple answers to not so simple questions.

I think it is harder for me to explain it to Thing One, because I know what it is like to miss a father. I know exactly how painful that is, to know you can’t see Daddy for one reason or another and to really need that part of you. I lost my daddy at 12, and he was the best daddy ever. Even though I have my opinions of Big Cheese and his parenting style, it doesn’t stop the fact that Thing One thinks the world of him and needs him. This is why it is painful for me to explain the simple terms as to why his Daddy isn’t always there. I guess in time it will get better and I just need to trust that I am doing the right thing for him and his sister.

I am hoping this is just a phase and I will see a happier Thing One soon.

You have a WHAT?!?!

Last night as I do every night I was bathing both Thing One and Thing Two.  I've never found it odd that I bathe my children together, even if they are a boy and girl, it's never been an issue for me.  Actually it was for the most part a time saver.  Two kids, one bath, killed two birds with one stone.

Back to last nights bath.  Since Thing One has been potty trained he has this quirk that he pulls at his private part all the time.  I've read this is pretty normal, for me it's mostly the fact that he yanks it so hard he may hurt himself one day.  So as I have always done I gently remind him that he does not need to touch it unless he is going to the bathroom.  So there was Thing Two yanking at himself.  I finally had to say "Thing One, stop pulling at your penis!".  Thing Two is in the repeat stage and follows her brother Thing One's every movement, so you can imagine what came next.  Thing Two points to her private parts and says "PENIS!".  My thought was, ok we haven't told her the name of her part.  I told her "No Thing Two, you have a vagina".  What ensued next brought me to tears.  Thing One looks at himself and says " I have a GINA too! See!" (points to private part)  I wanted to laugh so hard, but I kept it together.  Then I repeated to Thing One that he had a penis.  Thing One in his loudest 3 year old voice says "NO! They match mommy!"  Well I almost was crying from the laughter. 

So there I am, wanting to share this with someone and so I text message Big Cheese to let him know what had happened.  I don't know if he was a little perplexed and maybe even a little disturbed by the fact that this had occurred.  He just was confused.  What do we do?  Should we have them bathe together?  I guess at that moment I realized that we had different parenting styles.  I'm all about being open with my children, letting them ask questions and having the accurate information for them.  That is why I refuse to have Thing One call his private parts "wee wee" or his "pee pee".  He knows he has a penis and now he has a name for his sister's anatomy.  I guess some people are still a little closed off and private when it comes to children learning the correct terms for their anatomy, and that's ok. 

So am I going to separate them in the shower?  I suppose eventually I will have to. For now I think it's pure and simply an observation for both of them and they are learning about the uniqueness in their own body.  Others may have other opinions about what I do, but I see nothing wrong in what I am doing so far with them.  So what did I say to Big Cheese?  Well that's easy, the same thing I do with Thing One and Thing Two.  I let him ask questions and I gave him accurate and concerete answers.  Sometimes Adults need to be approached the same way as young children. ;)

Men of Valor

Friday, June 11, 2010.  My son Thing One turns 34 months old.  I was a little sad during the week because of the hardship I was going with the car problems I was having and the trouble I was having getting help getting my kids situated while I found a way to and from work, etc.  I was really missing my dad at that point.  The man who was always there for me. The man I hope that Thing One will grow up to be.

 

That morning on the drive to work I heard the news of a CHP (California Highway Patrol) officer who had been killed while on duty.  I stopped and said a prayer for the family and was very reflective on the times my dad would go to work and Mami would say a prayer.  My father, Sarge, worked as a deputy for the Los Angeles Sheriff department.  Whenever I hear that an officer has gone down, I pray.  These men give there all to keep the rest of us safe. 

 

Later that morning one of my friends on Facebook contacted me and told me that the officer who had died was my other friend's younger brother.  The tears rolled down and I prayed even more. I felt the pain of my friend, losing her beloved brother.  I felt the pain of her mother, losing her son.  I felt the pain of his wife, losing her companion.  I felt the loss of his children, growing up without their father.

 

The men behind those badges have families, have loved ones, have friends.  They put it all on the line so you and I can remain safe. Then I was reminded of all the chivalrous men who do not wear a badge, but are heroes in their own way.  These men are those who pick up the pieces after an absent father, whether that be voluntary or involuntary.  Those men who will take children in as their own and shield them from harm and life's bumps in the road.  They can be step fathers who take in a whole family and make them their own.  They are brother's, friends, neighbors who in a moment's crisis are there.

On this Father's day I grieve for the father I lost to cancer and for those two children who's very courageous father not only protected them but protected the highways so that many other father's could get home safely to their children.  I also honor on those of you who take the place of a lost father. I honor those father's who find it necessary to keep and protect a family and stay married for long periods of time and take care of the mother of your children.  You are truly men of valor.

Dad, I truly miss you everyday.  In the 12 years you gave me as a father, you were exceptional and taught me life's lessons in a short period I was under your wing.  Everything you did for me served as an example to what I wanted to be like as a parent and values I instill in my little one's everyday. 

Thing One, you have big shoes to fill.