Enough of the Dad-bashing already…please!

As a Stay At Home Dad over the last 15 years I’ve seen and heard a lot from others as I’ve been out and about with my crew. Over time I’ve grown accustomed to old ladies telling me how nice it is to see a dad out with his kids. I’ve been asked countless times if I’m giving Mom the day off or if I’m babysitting. I don’t get mad about it or reply with some snarky comment that’s equally ignorant. My normal response is to simply smile, look the other person in the eyes, and tell them that this is my job. All day. Every day. And I love it! My kids are old enough now that they even respond for me sometimes. I suppose that it also helps that I have three t-shirts that proudly proclaim, “Dads don’t babysit. (It’s called ‘parenting’)”. Somehow I end up wearing one of them nearly every time we go out.

I’d like to think that I have a pretty good sense of humor about my career choice as a SAHD and that I’ve developed pretty thick skin about it all. But lately I’ve been seeing a spike in people – moms especially – complaining about their husbands being so incompetent when it comes to caring for their own children. While I’m not personally offended or hurt by such comments, it got me to thinking a lot about how such comments, even when made in jest, are hurtful to our sons and daughters. First of all, it shows our kids that moms are the only ones who know how to properly care for children. One mom posted this in a group that’s supposed to be for “families”:

Trying to sleep train my husband. As in training him to put baby to bed. Oye. Men really don’t have instincts on how to soothe a baby. No advice please just needed a place to get that out.

Really? No instincts? I’ve done that for all six of my children over the last 20 years. What was more disappointing was the fact that 97 people “liked” that post and roughly 85% of the comments were from moms who agreed with the original post. I thought about posting something snarky but instead waited a few days and started a different post in that same group.

I know it’s not diaper-related, but I really enjoyed reading (someone’s) post the other day bragging about her husband’s military award. As one of the few guys in this group (thanks to my wife for adding me a long time ago) I would love to start a “Spouse Brag” thread to combat a lot of the “ranting” that I read on this page, particularly that’s directed at the dads.

I’ll start. I appreciate how hard my wife works every day to provide financially for our family so that I can be a SAHD. I know that she misses out on a lot while she’s at work…

Amazingly, over 200 people liked that positive post and 45 moms commented something positive in response. I’m not sharing this to show how popular I am, but rather to illustrate that there are plenty of men who are stepping up and partnering with their wives. Sometimes what you’re looking for determines what you’re going to find.

papa-bioSecond, this dad-bashing comes from places that seem to promote family values. As a teenager I read the stories of the Berenstain Bears to my younger siblings. Most of them have some sort of lesson to be learned and they’re meant to promote good values. Once I became a dad I slowly began to realize how Papa Bear was marginalized in almost every single story as this incompetent man-child who was just as childish and immature as his cubs. And, thank God for Mama, who had to swoop in nearly every time to extract Papa and the cubs from their mess. Those stories perpetuate this myth that dads can’t possibly care for their own children without the ever-watchful eye of a mother. It’s almost as creepy as Big Brother from 1984. Except that these are passed off as cherished family books. While we still have most of our Berenstain Bears books on our bookshelf, I make sure to discuss with my kids some of the errors contained within the stories. We know, Dad. You told us this same thing last time we read this book. (At least I’m consistent!)

Third, if my daughters should choose to get married and have children I would hope that they would choose men who are willing and able to share the joy and responsibility of parenting in an equal partnership. I don’t want them to be the only care-givers to my grandchildren. Or to view their husbands as children. Yet, social media is littered with memes and comics which portray exactly this message. I hope that I’m modeling for them that it is, indeed, possible for a man to be nurturing, loving and competent in what’s been a traditionally female role. Heck, hopefully they’ve learned from my SAHD career choice that being a true partner in a marriage means sacrificing of yourself for the good of the family. While it was never my goal in high school or college to be a SAHD, I’ve come to realize that this is something that I love doing and that I’m pretty good at…and that it’s what’s best for my family.

Helping little sisters climb up the play structure near the Space Needle in Seattle.

Helping little sisters climb up the play structure near the Space Needle in Seattle.

Fourth, I’m trying to raise my son to be prepared to be a good father someday. Even though, at age 11, he swears that he’s never going to have kids and girls are still mostly gross. (He has three older sisters…so I can’t blame him!) Even if he never has kids of his own, he’s going to be an awesome uncle! While he’s far from perfect and gets frustrated at times, I also see a tender side of him with my younger girls, ages 5 and 2. (Sometimes.) I’ve been teaching him how to be a dad: change diapers (cloth even!), warm and give a bottle (not any longer, but in the past), prepare meals, and so on. It’s not easy. In fact, at times it can be downright frustrating when he doesn’t do what I’m asking of him. In those moments of frustration, I need to remind myself to show him the love, patience and understanding that he will need to have for his own kids in the future. I don’t want him to become one of those guys that the moms complain about, whether in person or on whatever social media platform will exist in the future. I want to equip him with the best skills to succeed in this important area: being a dad.

Ultimately, it’s up to all of us what we choose to promote. Dads and moms, are you listening to what your words and actions are teaching your children? My children? Our children? I’m trying to focus my time and energy on being the change that I want to see in the world. If I want the world to be more inclusive of all parents then that needs to start by teaching my own children and everyone else in my sphere of influence. While I will still make mistakes in this effort I know that, in the long run, it’s all going to be worth it. After all, the future well-being of my children is priceless!

A Look In The Mirror

Felicia

Student/Blogger Felicia Czochanski

I was talking on the phone with my 20 year old daughter this morning and asked her what she thought about an idea I had for an upcoming blog. I told her about Felicia Czochanski, 20 year old, a junior at Fordham University in New York City who recently wrote an article for Cosmo magazine entitled “People Judge Me Because I’m Pretty“. Her main point was that she wants to be appreciated for more than just her looks and to be respected as a person for who she is and what she’s accomplished. I read the article and, like many of the commenters, thought that even though she had a decent message, she came across as pretty self-absobed and bratty. As you might expect, there has also been a very significant and unfortunate nasty backlash against this young woman, with far too many commenters crossing way over the line and attacking her in very inappropriate ways. When I read her article I thought that it would be pretty funny to write a parody of her post, calling attention to either my height or career choice as a Stay At Home Dad. I even got about half way through a draft. Here’s the first paragraph I had drafted.

I’m a Dadly Dad. I’m 6-foot-8 with blonde no hair, blue eyes, a Dad Bod, and six kids. You can typically find me in sandals and shorts and t-shirt. You can also find me glaring at cashiers and old ladies at the grocery store who feel compelled to call me “Mr. Mom” or that it’s clever to say, “Does Mom have the day off today?”. Cut to me dumping the rest of an icy cold Mountain Dew down my throat and putting on my biggest smiley face until I reach my destination.

So, I asked my daughter what she thought of my idea. Should I write about being judged for being tall or for being a SAHD? She paused for a few moments. “Dad, can I be honest with you? I don’t think that you should write it at all. You don’t understand what it’s like to constantly get stared at and catcalled because you’re pretty. I don’t think you should write it even if you’re not bashing her. She’s getting enough harsh responses already. Even if what you write is funny, would it be kind and uplifting to her if she were to read it?”.

I love the fact that my daughter had both the conviction and courage to be honest with me at that moment. That was a perspective that I really hadn’t considered in response to this young woman’s story. It made me sad to think that I was so close to possibly contributing to the public backlash against this lady without even knowing it. But, it also made me proud that my daughter would call me out on it in such a loving and respectful manner. (She must have some amazing parents!) Seriously, though, it makes me really consider what I think, say and do. Immediately a favorite verse (Philippians 4:8) came to mind:

Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things.

I’m going to try to use this brief look in the mirror as motivation to refocus my energies and efforts on lifting others up and encouraging them. Life is hard enough and I’m sure we would all benefit from the unexpected kindness of others, even when we don’t deserve or expect it. If I want my own children to be compassionate, kind and considerate human beings then I need to make sure that they see and hear that being modeled consistently at home. I’m pretty sure that my daughter knew that truth when she shared with me her honest opinion on the phone earlier today. I hope that I can continue to be the positive change that I want to see in the world. As for me, I’m going to reach out to Miss Czochanski and try to encourage her to ignore the nasty people and embrace her inner beauty.

THINK-ON-THESE-THINGS-20

Please comment, like and share this message!

Five Photos, Five Stories; Day One: Sisters

Sister love

I was recently nominated by my fellow Stay At Home Dad and Dad Blogger friend R.C., who writes at Going Dad, to participate in a challenge called Five Photos, Five Stories, in which I post a photo and story (fiction or non-fiction) daily for five consecutive days. It sounded like something that would be a fun to share with my loyal readers here on my blog. If you would like to be nominated please leave a comment below and I would be happy to oblige.

Day One: Sisters.

These two sleeping beauties will each celebrate a birthday in the next ten days, turning 5 and 2. As a SAHD I have had the privilege to watch their relationship grow closer and closer over the last couple of years. While they can squabble like any siblings do, they have become pretty good buddies. Little sister J absolutely adores big sis M and loves to do pretty much anything that she is doing. Dress up, dolls, puzzles, reading, art, dancing, swimming, playing at the park or YMCA, and watching football and making cookies with Daddy. They love to do life together. I’m so excited to watch these two grow up together, although I’m slightly nervous about the mischief they’re going to make together in about 10 years. I snapped this photo of the two of them snuggled in bed together yesterday morning. They slept most of the night in that sweet embrace. When my wife and I decided to try to add on to our already-large family of four kids back in 2009 it was with the hope that we could have two more kids who could become friends since there would be an almost six year age gap between kids 4 and 5. At this point it appears that our hopes and prayers are being answered in the most spectacular way possible. I cannot imagine our family without these two little girls. God obviously knew what he was doing when he blessed us with them.

Happy Birthday, my dear girls! When you read this in the future I hope you know how much your mother and I love you. I prayed for you to be a part of our family and thank God for you every single day. I look forward to many more years of love and laughter as you both grow up. I love you forever. ~Dad

Farts are Funny and Six more Life Lessons from my kids

Over the last couple of months I’ve been trying to really pay attention to my job more than the distractions in my iPhone. Since I’m nearing the end of my 14th school year as a Stay At Home Dad that means my “job” is really my kids. I realized that I had been prioritizing such worthy endeavors like Facebook, blogging, Twitter, Trivia Crack, Words With Friends and the latest sports talk on the radio or the ESPN app. Even though I justified it as only a few minutes here and a few more minutes there, it added up to a less than satisfactory job performance in my own mind. I don’t want my children to think that they are less important than whatever was holding my attention on my phone. As a result of being more present and mindful in my day-to-day life I’m learning a few things that perhaps I’d been too distracted to fully appreciate before.

Farts are Funny. Yeah, I went there right away. Couldn’t hold that one in any longer. (Get it?) Not my farts, mind you. But when my kids let one fly it’s pretty much the most hilarious thing around. How many times have you seen a princess/ballerina playing with her baby dolls pause her play to rip one? I have on an almost-daily basis. Not only that, then she has to comment about how loud it was or how her tummy suddenly feels better. No shame at all. You’d think she was a fifth grade boy, not a precocious almost five year old. Yeah, those of you who know me in real life know that these apples didn’t fall far from their tree.

I love you, Daddy. While my almost two year old isn’t saying those words yet she is able to communicate it pretty effectively by her desire to snuggle with me. I used to use that snuggle time to play on my phone. Lately I’ve just been snuggling her, basking in her unconditional love and adoration and smelly morning breath. There’s something so special about those first few moments after I take her out of her crib in the morning; how she lights up with the biggest smile and literally dives into my arms, burrowing a hole into that spot where my neck and shoulder meet. I’m soaking that up as I know it’s not going to be like that forever.

Games. Games. Games. 

Victory!

Victory!

Instead of checking email or blogging or playing on my phone I’ve been choosing to play more games with my kids. You might recall that I recently wrote about how I beat my kids when we play games. Shortly after writing that blog post my ten year old son finally beat me in the board game Carcassonne. My four year old became interested and he and I taught her how to play and she beat us both in her first game! Just a couple of day

s ago my son crushed me in a game of Monopoly, proudly bankrupting me as he ended up with more money than the bank. I love the quality time we spend together playing games, especially when they earn a well-deserved victory. That victory smile and sense of accomplishment is terrific.

IMG_0189

Camel ride at the zoo

What do you want to do? Instead of trying to be some sort of super-intuition daddy I just ask my kids what we should do today. One week it meant going to the zoo three days in a row. It’s good that we live only ten minutes away and have a membership. Sometimes we stay home and bake cookies, put together lots of puzzles, read lots of books, color, play games, or go to the park or open gym at the YMCA. But in whatever we’re doing we are doing it together and I’m keeping my phone in my pocket or, gasp, even in my backpack/diaper bag. I’m saddened to see so many parents missing out on what their kids are doing at the park or indoor play areas because they’re paying attention to their phones instead. I’m that parent who is awkwardly playing “grounders” with my kids on the play equipment or climbing up the tall slide after my kids have asked me to join them. We even go to the beach close to our house for the sole purpose of throwing rocks into the water.

Turn the radio off? Wait, what? Turn down for what? (Yeah, I have teenagers!) Instead of blasting music all the time in the car with my kids I’ve been trying to listen to the never-ending questions of my four year old. She’s become very curious about how different things are made and often asks me to explain it to her as she observes things while we’re driving. Daddy, how was the Tacoma Narrows Bridge built? How are signs made? How are houses built? How are roads built? Are we still in Washington? How are cars made? How was the world made? Did God make the world? How?I could go on but you get the picture. So, I try to explain to her, using vocabulary that she could understand and concepts that make sense to her, the answers to her questions. I was feeling pretty pleased with my efforts on our fifteen minute trip to Costco today as I explained to her how roads were made. It helped that my dad was a civil engineer who worked for the city where we lived during my childhood and that the road in front of my childhood home was resurfaced one summer when I was probably about 10-12 years old so I witnessed exactly what happened. Upon completion of my explanation, my perceptive daughter showed wisdom beyond her years by asking me,

Daddy, do you really know all of these things or are you just making it up?

Seriously. Come on, have a little faith, you little stinker!

IMG_0584

Classics made hilarious by inserting the word toot at opportune times.

Toot Toot. On a recent road trip I was mindlessly playing on my phone while my wife drove and our kids kind of passed the time away, not really doing anything. After her prompting (I love you, honey!), I found some board books that I keep in the car for my almost two year old and began to read them aloud. Only I changed one word as I read them. I added the word “toot” (as in, fart) in place of the word “whistle” in the book Whistle for Willie. I know, it’s kind of juvenile, but, like I wrote above, farts are funny. And you have to know your audience. It’s kind of like playing Mad Libs but with well-known children’s books by beloved authors like Eric Carle, Ezra Jack Keats and Margaret Wise Brown. My kids were cracking up when I read Goodnight Toot, The Very Tooty Caterpillar and Hand, Hand, Fingers, Toot. Of course, now my daughter wants me to read like that all the time. I hope this passes quickly.

Slow Down. Sometimes Most of the time I need to just slow down and let my kids be kids. Let their natural curiosity explore the world around them. Just a couple of days ago this point was driven home for me by my little girls.

Decorating the white flowering bush

Decorating the white flowering bush

We were walking back to our van after playing in the Open Gym at the YMCA. My four year old was being kind of pokey and I was absentmindedly asking her to move faster and hurry up. I was already thinking ahead to trying to get a few chores done at home before I had to get my 15 year old from school in an hour. Only then did I notice what was making my daughter so slow. She was carefully picking up blossoms that had fallen from one of the shrubs and decorating a smaller shrub. Pretty soon my almost two year old joined her big sister and the two of them happily decorated the smaller bush like a Christmas tree. What once was a bush with only a small number of white flowers soon brandished pink, red and purple blossoms. It was fun to see them playing together like that and I was reminded once again of how much I have to learn from my own children.

Sultan of Swat

This is a tough post to write but I’m going ahead with it because one of the reasons I started this blog about being a Stay At Home Dad was to use it as a way to be reflective about what I’m doing as a parent. To learn from both the successes and the failures. Over the 14 years I’ve been a SAHD (and the six years before that as a middle school teacher) I’ve done a pretty decent job of keeping my cool. I’m a pretty laid-back guy and I try my best to be patient with everyone, especially my children. Any parent knows that kids can really test you and pester you and do stuff that shouldn’t get on your nerves, but it still does. It’s my experience that this is exacerbated for the at-home parent of small children who often deals with the seemingly endless requests to do this or that from the moment the little ones wake up until the moment they (finally!) go to sleep. Sure, I try to get my little ones to learn patience but, well, herding cats sometimes seems like it might be easier.

Well, rewind to a few days ago, Thursday, to be exact. It was a routine Spring day for us that was highlighted by a trip to a local park to enjoy some of the nice weather.

Playing at the park

Playing at the park

We had an early dinner without my wife, who stayed late to work, so we could be on time to meet her at my 15 year old daughter’s high school water polo game at 6:20 pm. Even though my M, four year old, very thoughtfully served some spaghetti to J, her 22 month old sister, while I finished cooking dinner (yeah, that onesie may not ever come clean), we were on target to leave the house to be, gasp!, ten minutes early for the game. The final hurdle to conquer was changing the J’s diaper. Piece of cake for this seasoned veteran. Or so I thought. As I laid J down on the changing table I noticed M trying to climb up the end of it. I asked her to please get down. Moments later M was standing bedside me at the changing table, trying to tickle her sister. I asked her to please stop. (I’m patient and well-mannered, thankyouverymuch!) Within the next 30 seconds as I was trying to wipe J’s butt and place the clean diaper under her I must have asked M three or four more times to please stop poking, tickling or otherwise prodding her sister because every time she did that her sister would twist her body impossibly as only toddlers on changing tables can do and I’d have to rearrange the diaper all over again. Exhale. I could feel myself getting a little worked up as I asked, for the sixth time in about a minute and a half, for M to Please. Stop. Touching. Her.

SWAT! 

8d8718e763a4a1392f460e9efec731ed35ea1a2eThat’s what I did to her hand as she reached to poke, tickle or prod her sister that one last time. It wasn’t a “hit”, but it might as well have been. And in that moment of frustration I lost my patience with my adorable four year old and violated one of my cardinal rules of parenting: never, ever, under any circumstances, lay a hand on my child in anger or frustration. I felt like smelly poo. How could I have done this to my child? She pulled her hand back and looked into my eyes, giant tears already forming in her eyes. Not as much from the physical pain but more from the fact that I’d swatted her hand out of frustration. I dropped to a knee to be at her eye level and immediately told her how very wrong it was for me to do that to her and I asked her earnestly to forgive me. Through her tears she nodded yes and, as we embraced, hot tears flowed from my eyes as they burned my cheeks. We talked about it some more right then as I finished getting the diaper on J and while we headed to the car.

It’s been just over 48 hours since I became, in my own mind at least, the Sultan of Swat. And I’ve been beating myself up over my lack of self-control and momentary lapse the whole time. It cannot happen again. Period. There is no room to justify my actions by thinking, “If she had listened in the first place…” Nope. Not even remotely an excuse. Yet, I have to be able to forgive myself in order to move on. M forgave me so now I need to do the same. Yet, I can still learn from this experience. While I am a pretty patient parent, I need to realize that I do, indeed, have a breaking point. If/when I feel myself approaching that point I need to do an internal “lemon squeeze” like my kids were taught in elementary school or slowly count to ten. Looking back on this particular incident, I should have counted M using the 1-2-3 Magic discipline system that we’ve used with all of our children for the last 15+ years. (I think I’m going to reread that book this week.) Had I done that, the situation would not have escalated and there would have been no swat. In the end, I have to learn from this mistake, forgive myself and remember that I’m not perfect. After all, imperfection is part of the human condition.

To My Wife: Thank You

A short time ago, for no particular reason, it occurred to me how fortunate I am to be nearing the end of my 14th year as a Stay At Home Dad.And it’s all because I’m married to one pretty incredible woman.

Two crazy twenty year olds got hitched one day in 1993.

Two crazy twenty year olds got hitched one day in 1993.

Without her love and support over the 22+ years of our marriage and 14 years of my SAHD career I wouldn’t be the man, husband and father I am today. Together, years ago, we chose that it made the most sense for me to quit my teaching job and for her to finish her advanced degree and post-graduate training while I cared for our children. I’ve often thought about the sacrifices that I’ve made over the years to be a SAHD. Specifically, the fact that I sacrificed my teaching career when “retired”at age 29, after only six years in the profession. It didn’t really occur to me that my wife also has made many sacrifices over the years as well. So, this is a big THANK YOU to her.

While I’ve been at home changing diapers and feeding hungry mouths and playing games and going on adventures and folding laundry and shuttling kids to and from school and practices and everything else that I do all day you are also working. Only, you don’t get to be with your family 24/7 like me. And that’s a sacrifice for you. I try to document the countless special moments and show you pictures or have the kids recreate them for you. But it’s not the same as witnessing it live and in person. Yet, you don’t complain about it. You continue to wake up and go to work, even when you’d rather stay home under the warm covers and snuggle with one of the kids who crawled in with you. You’re showing our kids what it means to work hard and excel at what you do. You’re showing our children – particularly our daughters – that women can support their families financially and that they don’t need to rely on men for that. Thank you for being a role model for our son and daughters.

I often take for granted the daily opportunities to be present with our children as they discover the world around them. Thank you for encouraging me to take them on so many trips, not only locally, but also to other parts of the United States and even abroad. Without both your financial support and emotional encouragement, we wouldn’t have been to places like Alaska, Hawaii, Florida and Europe. They’ve seen firsthand that our world is so much bigger than whatever community we are living in.

For the last 14 years our children have observed what happens when a couple dares to throw tradition aside and do something crazy like having the dad stay home while the mom goes off to school or work. I don’t think it can be said often enough how proud I am of you for sticking it out and successfully completing your advanced degree and three more years of training. I know that you missed lots of time with the kids. We all missed you as well. But, now, looking back on it, I wouldn’t change a thing. The past has shaped us into the family we are today. Our children can all see the value in pursuing your goals through education and keeping at it even when the going gets tough. And to think that our family kept on expanding while all of this education/training was happening. You, my love, are one amazing woman!

Speaking of an expanding family, thank you for being so ridiculously good looking. There’s no other explanation for the fact that we have six children that are so beautiful. And smart. And persistent. And witty. And vocal. And opinionated. And compassionate. And loving. Even though none of them have your hair color they remind me of you in so many other good ways.

wuvFinally, thank you for putting up with loving me for these 22+ years. I know that I sometimes do things that drive you crazy. I snore. I fart. (You used to think that was funny. Now? Notsomuch.) I buy too much at Costco. I don’t always use the cloth wipes. Sometimes I bury stuff in the fridge and forget about it and it goes bad. The van is messy. I could go on, but that’s not the point. Despite all my perfect imperfections (thanks, John Legend) I am still madly and deeply and totally loving you. Thanks (I think) in advance for offering to push me in a wheelchair once my arthritic knee finally gives out. I look forward to growing old with you. Hopefully I can keep up. Seriously, though, thank you for loving me despite my shortcomings. I thank God for you every day. Thank you for being you. You are loved.

Forgiveness: The other F word

If you spend any time online visiting any social media or news sites you will notice that there are a lot of people who are mad, angry and offended by just about anything. Some of the offending topics of the last few weeks that pop into my brain at the moment are, in no particular order, ISIS, politics, healthcare, unions, President Obama, Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker, vaccinations, circumcision, education, school lunches, gun control, gay rights, religion, abortion, sports, Grammys, Oscars, celebrity nude photo hacks, Kardashians and even The Dress. (White and gold. I know. Who cares!) And that’s just the tip of the iceberg of crazy stuff out there. But what’s even crazier to me is the amount of truly vicious and vile comments that people leave without a second thought. th-11I wonder what would happen if people lived their lives choosing to forgive instead of choosing to look for ways to be offended. Can you imagine what a difference there would be if we each lived that way?

I’m sure some of you are thinking, “Sure, Carl, that sounds nice. But we’re talking ISIS. That’s pure evil. How could you possibly forgive them? You know they murdered over 20 Christians recently and just kidnapped over 250 Christians in Syria, right?” I agree. That is pure evil. Yet, Diane Foley, the mother of James Foley, an American journalist who was captured by ISIS in 2010 and beheaded last August, is calling for forgiveness of the man who is believed to have been the chief executioner for ISIS.

“So, he, in a sense, had a priviedged upbringing, so to me that makes even more sad that he’d want to use his gifts for such evil and hatred. It’s very frightening to me. We need to forgive him for not having a clue what he was doing.”

What? How is that even possible? If anyone has a right to withhold forgiveness from another person or group it would be his parents, right? Again, I agree. Wanting revenge is the natural and instinctive reaction. Yet, they are choosing to forgive this man. Wow. Again, can you imagine if we each tried to live our lives with such forgiveness? Maybe we could forgive ourselves for saying or doing something wrong.

brandon_bostick_packers

Bostick was supposed to block #13 so the guy behind Bostick could catch the ball. Instead, Bostick botched the catch and #13 recovered.

Most of us don’t have our major screw-ups happen in front of over 70,000 people plus millions on TV, but that’s exactly what happened to a football player on the Green Bay Packers named Brandon Bostick. He’s the player that many fans blamed for the Packers’ loss to the Seattle Seahawks, which cost his team a trip to the Super Bowl, all because he made a mistake near the end of the game. Bostick wrote an article recently about what his life has been like since that game took place about six weeks ago.

Sometimes I wake up in the morning and it’s the first thing on my mind. There are nights when I dwell on it before falling asleep. Sometimes the thought creeps up on me when I’m lifting weights, or eating dinner, or sitting on my couch at home.

I flash back to that moment—I can see the ball floating right in front of me—and I wonder: What if?

I messed up in the NFC Championship Game, and trust me, it hurts. I’ll probably think about my role in the botched onside kick every day for the rest of my life. It haunts me like a recurring nightmare.

This guy is beating himself up over something that he did wrong. How many of us do that to ourselves? I know I do. Unfortunately, I mess up daily. I lose patience with my family. I’m not as loving or kind to my wife and kids as I could be. Sometimes I even raise my voice and yell. I say or do something, trying to be funny only to have it blow up in my face. Yet, at the end of the day, I know that I’m human and that I’m going to mess up.th-5 I love my wife and kids but I’m not perfect. So, I ask those I’ve wronged for forgiveness and I forgive myself; hoping to learn from my mistakes so that I won’t repeat them. Sometimes I’m successful in not repeating them. Sometimes. I try to point out to my kids that I’m not perfect so I don’t expect them to be perfect either. It’s just that we need to keep that as our goal so that we’re improving ourselves.

Back to forgiveness. When we choose to not forgive it wrecks relationships. I grew up with a loving yet very controlling father. As I grew into my teenage years I began to realize how much I didn’t like his type of parenting and began to resent him for it. Thankfully, I soon realized that not forgiving him (even though he hadn’t asked for it) wasn’t going to help my situation but only cause me to become angry and bitter myself. So, I forgave him in my heart and decided that I would still love him. It certainly helped when I moved away to college two hours away from my hometown. It wasn’t until almosth-7t 10 years after I graduated from high school that my father finally realized the hurt he had caused from his desire for control and asked me, his son, to forgive him. It was a tender moment when I was able to honestly tell him that I had forgiven him years before and had prayed for this day of reconciliation. We became much closer from that point forward and those last 6-7 years of his life saw him a changed man. I believe that the healing of our relationship was only made possible because we both chose to forgive. I’m so thankful that I could learn from him how to humbly seek forgiveness so that we could be so much closer over the final years of his life before he passed away in 2007. I know that it has certainly shaped my own parenting as a Stay At Home Dad, prompting me to seek and give forgiveness in order to develop and maintain a close relationship with my fantastic children, even during their crazy teenage years!

Can you imagine what the world might be like if we each chose to look for ways to be kind and to find common ground instead of choosing look for ways to be offended and angered? What if we actually dared to forgive others? When I was 10 years old, my 12 year old friend Beth was killed by a drunk driver who hit the car that Beth’s dad was driving. Even though they had to face some pretty serious emotional and physical pains of their own, Beth’s parents chose to forgive the young man who ended their daughter’s life by driving drunk. While the guy faced legal consequences and was imprisoned for a time, Beth’s dad reached out to him and regularly met with him in prison, extending him true forgiveness and love. Can you imagine doing that? I would like to think I would do the same, but I don’t know for sure.

Can you imagine how different our relationships might be if we each chose to forgive instead of holding on to the anger and hurt? I’ve heard many people talk about how a lack of forgiveness hurts you, not the person who wronged you.th-14 But what good does it do to hold on to that hurt and anger? It doesn’t help to heal the relationship. In fact, it does the opposite by creating distance until ultimately it is destroyed. It happens with co-workers, with friends, and with family. Why hang on to the control and power and lose the relationship? As someone who values relationship over control and power I tend to forgive rather than get offended or, as my teenagers call it, butthurt. Some might call me a sucker for giving people an extra chance and I suppose that is one of the risks of forgiving. You lose some of the control and make yourself vulnerable to being hurt again. But the upside is that I’m not burdened by the past. Newsflash: If you’re dealing with another human being you’re going to be disappointed and hurt at some point. I guarantee it. How you choose to respond to that disappointment and hurt is up you. The choice is yours. Choose wisely!