Braydon

We knew that implementing First Friday was a good thing for our kids to get some one-on-one with their parents in a special setting, but I felt like this one was particularly important.

Owen is a study in extremes: beyond charming, funny, adorable, skilled, talented, thoughtful and generous.  He is also off the charts energetic, loud, and pushing buttons (emotional buttons) all the time.  And I tend to struggle with the buttons he pushes.

So I felt that this First Friday had particular importance for us to bond.  We needed it and thankfully we got it.

I gave him the choice of my picking where we would go (Heather had suggested Japanese Hibachi, which I would have been fine with though more her kind of thing to do, but I didn’t have another good option), or go back to his favorite: The Melting Pot (see Heather’s post from First Friday. He jumped at the Melting Pot.

We loved every minute.  We had a booth. He asked me to sit next to him, not across.  Drinks were had: O – Pina Colada with a real pineapple slice (virgin of course); B – Martini (Grey Goose up with a twist, not virgin).  We skipped the cheese fondue appetizer since he didn’t care for it last time. We split the caesar salad and Owen devoured his half.  Teriyaki beef and shrimp; main dish. Then we had to order a second helping.  Our server got a real thrill.

Milk chocolate dessert.  Owen had the human purr.  He loved it.  Dipping everything into Chocolate.

We talked the entire time. What is his very favorite thing to do (go out and do things), what does he want to do when he grows up (not be a doctor, since they hurt people), how to make fresh water when you’re stranded on an island, how to memorize anything (we’ll see if that sticks).

But most importantly, as the evening progressed, Owen nudged closer and closer to me until, by the end of dinner, he was just about sitting on my lap.  Cuddled with his Papi, and feeling secure, adored and loved.  Which he was.

I really can’t say who it was better for, and I suppose, that’s really not the way to think about it. How can we do this every other week, rather than once a month?

Over the last couple weeks, I have been able to bond more with our boys. I’ve been spending some quality one-on-one time with them as a pair.  Mainly since I have been working so much and been so distracted, we thought it was getting critical that I did something.  And it’s been working.

Heather spends so so so much time actively engaging and doing so much for our kids and family.  She has a tremendous emotional bond with our kids that is beautiful.  But at the same time, there is something about spending time with me that is so incredibly powerful.  To have a connection with their father is a huge deal for sons.

There has been better behavior with them, and toward me, more cuddles, more affection, less general anxiety.  Just by simply spending a little (and not even that much) more time with my boys.  It should be an enormous lesson.

And though I have been spending more time with just Kyle and Owen, I stil have not been spending much time one-on-one.  You know, with three kids, that’s just hard to do.  But with First Friday, it’s really helped.

This past weekend was my first First Friday – we did all three kid’s with Heather first – and Kyle and I got to have a nice nice nice nice nice nice night on the town.

Kyle is our Italian food connoisseur, lover of a variety of pastas and breads. Heather found a great hole-in-the-wall place in South-side Bethlehem, “Sal’s Brick Over Pizza and Italian Restaurant” and we made the most of it. We loved Sal’s – everything made from scratch – reminded me of our Italian landlord from Boston (who regularly cooked for us great-grandmother style).  Freshly baked Italian bread with garlic sauce, blackened mahi-mahi with a crab and scallop sauce.

In a new twist, Kyle designed his own dish.  His normal penne Alfredo (which in Sal’s case, was more like a slightly cheesy cream sauce).  But he asked them to sauté (or in his words, “cooked”) tomatoes on the side.  While this was a bit strange, when he ordered, I didn’t realize his intention.  When the plate arrived, he immediately scooped the tomatoes onto the Alfredo – a new dish was born!  The server commented that it looked great and should be added to the menu.  You can see his plate above.

Turns out it was also First Friday in Bethlehem also that night.  There were street musicians, folks strolling the streets, shops open and welcoming people in for exhibits, music, drinks and other special events.  There was a great jazz band from Moravian that Kyle loved (and mentioned in his nightly prayer) – that’s him dancing below.

We had a great time. I can’t wait for the next First Friday!

Waiting is hard to do. For a meeting, for your kids to come home, relief, or a miracle. We all wait at some point. Waiting for something you desperately want or need is like peering up a mountain you think you’ll climb one day, tall and spiring upward with the peak just out of sight. A mountain that seems to have no path, no means of motion forward.

There is something I can see on the other side; maybe it’s the next mountain, or maybe something a bit hazy, in between mountains. Dusky, sun-setty. It feels like it might be fireflies on a summer night. We had that last summer, late one night we let the kids stay up and we caught fireflies in little white nets. Even little Miss who, in hindsight, seemed to be just a baby, caught fireflies and we put them in a jar.

I am not waiting…I want that again.

There is a path snaking up toward the top of the mountain, and looking back down I see how high it really is. It wasn’t clear how far we’d come until this point. I should be afraid, but I am not. I am walking and I’d rather be walking than looking up and wondering if I should go.

It’s not possible for everyone to find fireflies, but I see one now and again and they lead me on, like a lighted on the path in the rut of the mountain.

We’ll catch them together. Let them light our children’s faces, hear the laughter. We will, I am sure of it.

When I dropped Meera off at School/Daycare yesterday, Miss Kristen sat down with her and started coloring. Meera of course grabbed the pink paper an purple crayon (and her friend followed suite) and began coloring. She told me she was “doing this for you papi”. When Heather picked her up, she gave the paper to her and told her “this is for papi.”

Just something I want to remember.

Starting something new is tough. Starting something big, starting something little, starting a new direction; starting is hard. One of the quotes I’ve heard a lot lately in celebration of Black History Month is from MLK: “Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.” Sometimes even when you don’t realize it, you may be starting something. Things falling out of place, things falling into place, shifting the pieces around to make a better fit.  It can feel very unnerving, or very – just-right. Or, you might not fully realize it until you’re underway.  But once started, you can never go back.  Change can be hard, but change can be good.

This weekend, we had two great experiences, going to see Step Afrika at Lehigh on Friday and going to the Lehigh Men’s basketball game on Sunday night. In addition, we totally overhauled two rooms in our house.  On the heels of our Adoption Day weekend in Baltimore.

During the completely incredible stepping show, near the end, one of the lead dancers made the message clear. There, in an elite university, in a room of many of the black students on campus, with the leader of the LU Step Team sitting next to my black sons, he said that if there was one thing they wanted everyone to take away, it was to “finish it.”  There was an unspoken sense of meaning in that statement. A sense of something larger than just finishing it, something that was almost palpable in how important that is.

I recorded this with my cell; it’s lousy, but you can hear Kyle cheering in the background and to me that’s so wonderful.  You can’t hear Owen because he’s on the other side of Kyle with his arm around Latoya, the leader of the LU Step team….heartbreaker.

For this white father of black boys, this is what is means when nine elite black college students start and finish it:

At the end of it all though, starting and finishing is just a moment of time. It’s what comes in between the starting and the finishing that is who we are and what our lives are about. And once you grab on to something, there is a lot of rope to pull through before you reach the end.  There is daily work, that takes time and sometimes, lots and lots of energy.

We all know this of course, but it’s the least glamorous, most gritty, gnarly part of going through life.  It’s what we do with the laundry, or the cooking, or getting up and going to work (or looking for work)…again. It’s taking the kids to the doctor for yet another cold, or paying another bill, or figuring out what to do this weekend – do we go grocery shopping, clean, make something for dinner, or make an amazing experience.

I believe there is nobody who knows this better than Heather. She makes starting, finishing and pulling rope one single thing that happens every moment of every day. It’s in her constant effort to create, manage, enjoy and make the most of change for everyone she touches that is such a powerful force.   It is for our family.

We get so much from it, and it certainly takes a toll on her.  But I hope, that this picture is what makes it all worthwhile. Thank you Heather for all you do for our family.

MLK should be a big deal for everyone in the US; it most definitely is for us. It’s also a big deal at the boys’ school – we’re going to an all school assembly today in celebration and we’re really excited about it.

Happy MLK day everyone!