Pro Life or Pro Choice

I have had a couple of rough days emotionally. I'm normally a very "up" person in spite of my physical challenges. The things that really get to me are almost always issues with my kids.

I have two daughters. Both are really great kids in some ways, and other times....well if you have or had teenagers you know exactly what I mean.

As a young Dale Carnegie© Instructor I had a class member named Ken who was talking about a conversation he had with a coworker. The Coworker challenged Ken by saying "do you mean to tell me you do not believe a fetus is a human being until it is actually born?" To which Ken replied. "No, I do not believe a fetus is a human being until it has reached the age of 21" "up till then you should be able to abort them at any time". Like everyone in the room I laughed, but I confess I did not fully understand the joke until my oldest and youngest reached their teens. For those of you with young kids, the teen years make the terrible twos seem like a Swedish massage on a black sand Hawaiian beach after hitting the powerball lottery. OK maybe not the massage part.

I thought my wife and I did a decent job of raising the kids. Certainly not perfect, but we gave them lots of love, sacrificed a lot to send them to the best private schools in California and Michigan. We got them private tutors when they needed scholastic help, lessons when they wanted to play tennis, ski, swim, draw, paint,etc. We never complained about how expensive it was (unless they wanted to skip a lesson). Certainly I criticized them sometimes but for the most part I tried to build their self esteem and tell them how talented they were. Encouragement was how I preferred to deal with them. When my daughter wanted to sleep in, I did not yell or call her lazy or tell her she was going to be late, instead I sat on the foot of her bed and repeated softly and encouragingly "watch her ladies and gentlemen as she leaps from her bed with singleness of purpose and springs across the room, with a smile on her face and a song in her heart to get ready to face the day as the smartest student in the history of Campbell Hall. After a few choruses she would complain "Stooop dad", but she would get up.

Everything seemed to be going according to plan I created in my head. You know "THE PLAN". My kids would be enthusiastic, positive, loving, hard working kids. Then it happened, not all at once mind you but slowly and almost imperceptibly they began to change. Like the gradual transformation of Michael Jackson from a young African American male into a middle aged white female, my kids transformed (maybe I should have used a decepiticon analogy). They went from sweet, fun, loving kids, who did what we asked (grudgingly at times)and were a joy to talk to and be around, to sullen, uncooperative, mouthy, little brats. The joke about 21 was never clearer to me. I have never regretted having them, but boy have I been hurt by them.

I never realized how deeply I could love until I had my kids. As much as a I love my wife, If she were going to be hit by a bus, I would SCREAM AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS TO MOVE. I would throw something in front of the bus to try to slow it down, but to jump in front of it (I would, she has been a better wife than I ever deserved) there would be a moments hesitation. Put my kids in the same situation and without a thought I'm roadkill. I never realized why my father in law cried so hard when he told me I could marry his daughter. The parent child bond is so "one way" there is no way to understand it until you have kids of your own. My mom and I had a sometimes strained relationship, most of that changed when I had my kids. I knew she felt the same way about me as i feel about mine. It let me look past all the BS that didn't really matter.

I would rather die than see my kids in pain. I would rather die than see my kids in pain. I would rather die than see my kids in pain. That was not a mistake, I could write that sentence a hundred times and it would not come close to expressing how much I love them. Which makes it so hard to deal with them the way they are now. I have been crying on and off for 2 days because my oldest is going through something that is hurting her. She won't talk to me about it and frankly for 6 or 7 days she hasn't said much of anything to me, unless it was a snarly "I'm not hungry" or "I'm not mad at you" in a tone that implies the word asshole at the end. My youngest is not quite as bad, but she seems to take all her rage out on my wife.

My step-mom Janice gave me some encouragement yesterday. She said my sister Allison was the same way between her senior year of high school and her freshman year of college (just like my oldest). She thinks Tori is just scared about leaving the nest (God how I hope that is it).

I have a couple of points to all this, after all it is called one man's opinion.

First, in my opinion, crying is OK. after a couple days of releasing frustration, anger and hurt feelings, I feel much better. To all of you who haven't cried in a while, let it out. Don't give yourself heart attacks and ulcers. Crying doesn't make a guy a sissy (unless it's at a chic flick, then just go put on a dress and lipstick).

Secondly, don't say or do anything while you are hurt. In Lincoln's letters were several he had written to General Meade and never sent. I "pulled a Lincoln" the other day. I wrote my daughter a text about how much she was hurting me. 24 hours later I deleted it. As i read what I wrote (devoid of emotion) I realized it would only hurt her (which would make me hurt more!). A few hours is not enough time. Wait 24 hours and if you still want to send it or say it....wait 24 more.

I believe in my kids. I believe they have good values and beliefs. I'm certain that years from now these few days will be long forgotten

I guess in my opinion they really aren't complete Human Beings until they reach the age of 21, but I wouldn't trade them for all the money in Bill Gate's portfolio

P.S. I got my first follower today! It is someone I know and love, but that doesn't make it any less exciting. Thanks Carol. You always make me feel important and special.