Monday, February 8th, 2010

I've told Alex before that I have the hardest job as a dad. I have to be the dad of a good son.

Today getting ready for school was rough. Alex forgot to get his band forms signed and mom was upset.  he woke up sore from snowboarding Saturday night with the scouts and didn't want to go to the gym.  I'm still trying to loose my Christmas pounds so no gym was not an option.

Alex was running behind and as I returned from walking the dog (and picking up the poop) I began to get upset about the garbage cans not out on the curb. 

On the way to the gym I told Alex that his job when he got home from school was to write a plan for himself that would enable him to do his chores.  I could tell he was upset with himself for running behind and not being better prepared for Monday morning. 

I was still upset about the garbage cans and so decided to make the work out at the gym one he would remember.  (Sometimes it seems I may be more drill sergeant than father.) We did our standard 300 crunches, then rolled over and knocked out our 100 push-ups and then headed downstairs to work our backs and use the bench press.

I could tell Alex was still upset.  I stopped him.  Took a break and this is what I said, "Alex, it's my job as your father to point out your shortcomings.  It's your job to recognize them in light of the fullness of who you are. This means that you don't over focus on the shortfall and get all depressed, but instead you look at it as a challenge and you figure out how to solve the problem."

I told him, "That's what separates men from boys.  Boys get upset over public mention of a shortfall. Men, however, recognize that they're not perfect but that they can always improve.  Men improve with a positive motivation to do better."

By the time we were showering, I had calmed down and I reordered his afternoon. I asked him what he had planned to clean in the house when he got home.  He told me he was going to vacuum.  I told him to do any homework he had first, then vacuum, then practice his trumpet and his piano and if there was time left to develop an improvement plan. I told him the improvement plan was his last priority and that I would accept the fact that he may not get to it.

Sometimes I feel like a schizophrenic father.