How did I cry as a kid?

So I am taking a 24/7 Father class, which is really what prompted me to write this blog.  It is like AA for dads.  A group of us sits around and talks about our stories and how we were raised and who our role models were.  No one has cried yet, but you do feel so much better at the end of every meeting.

Funny, because this week we talked about if we cried as a kid what would happen.  Or what if we just showed any emotion at all.  I responded that if I cried it would almost always end up negatively.  I would get what I wanted in the immediate (from mom usually) but in the future felt that I was only going to get my way because she didn't want her son crying.  If a man saw me cry, I would be constantly reminded about it in the future.  I learned to try my absolute best to hold that emotion in, as it always had more long term bad than short term good.

The other day the oldest was taken to get some new shoes from his grandparents.  He liked the latest of skater shoes that all the cool kids had.  This brand had about 50 different models, all of slight variation.  Sadly he is at the size where boys meet mens, and none of the stores had his size and we would have to order them.  He was ok with this because he would get to pick out his style, as opposed to picking one in his size in the store.  We stopped to get some Boba Tea when grandma called and said that they found one store that had a size that might fit him.  I told him to go there and I would meet him with the drinks in a few.  Grandma told me that it was probably too big but they wanted to try it on before we order the smaller size, to make sure it would fit.  Ten minutes later I walked up to the store, thinking they should be done trying on this shoe and found that he liked the style and it fit him.  Well, sorta.  It was still about one full size too big.  We tried to reason with him that he would get blisters in it (I blurted out "but he could wear two pairs of socks" to which he replied "I'll wear three to make sure!"  doh) and would hate the shoes because they would hurt his feet.  He insisted he wanted these exact pairs.  I felt he was just saying that because he wanted to leave the store with new shoes on and that was all.  

As I talked to his grandma she looked at him and said "Are you going to cry?"  I got slightly embarrassed and looked down to him and he looked at me and said "No."  I noticed the red eyes and could see the glaze starting to become a stream, and then he said "Yes," and the tears started to roll (not sobbing, just the dramatic slow roll of a few drops).  

The shoes were purchased within minutes.

As I walked out and recounted the story to his mom later I was surprised by his actions.  This kid is the tough oldest sibling and boy of five kids who plays every sport you can think of.  But the thought of these shoes not being on his feet when he left the mall had broken him down more than an eighty-five pound human being hitting him at full speed.  I wanted to tell him to suck it up...that these are only shoes that he will not be wearing in six months to a year anyway.  That there are so much greater things in life than shoes.  I didn't do that, fearing the embarrassment he already felt would be compounded 1,000 times more if I called him out.  I know he cried about shoes.  He knows he cried about shoes.  The worried look he gave when he said "No" to the question in the beginning told me he really didn't want to cry, he just couldn't help it.

Often times we punish ourselves for displaying emotions we have little or no control over.  There is such a fine line between being happy and being annoyingly happy, just as there is for every emotion.  He was ready to leave the mall without a problem with his Boba tea and no shoes because the option to buy wasn't there.  Once he found a close enough size, his world changed.  I think he learned a lesson that day, just like I do all the time.  Go for what you want, but don't put your expectations in concrete ever.  You're bound to cry over a result eventually.  Be flexible with the options that surround you and ask yourself how much you really want what you're displaying the emotion to achieve, what other ways are possible to get it, and will this shoe even fit me in the summer?

They were pretty sweet shoes.  Damn, to be a kid again.

I have no kids. She has 5.

I have no kids.  She has 5.

My mother and father divorced when I was two years old, and I don't have any memories of them living together.  My dad stayed a part of my life, although he lived in a different city. me and my sister still saw him throughout the year.

My mom remarried when I was six to a Copenhagen chewing truck driver, who had grown up on a very strict cattle ranch in a very small town.  I can't say I remember a lot of him before they were married, except that when they did tie the know they asked me and my sister if we wanted to call him "dad."  We both looked at each other and immediately said "no."  I don't have any bad memories before that, there was just something so foreign to calling this person "dad."  I only had one dad and didn't see the need for another one.

They were married for 11 years, and I hated each and every one.

When I met my current girlfriend, I was immediately attracted to her positive attitude in life.  I knew very soon that she had just been divorced and had five children from one man, who had left her for one of her friends as she was pregnant with the 5th baby.  This woman had to go through a separation and divorce with the kids while her ex was out with a new girlfriend going on vacations, paying "child support" late or not at all, and just being a Disney dad.  She kept positive through it all, while having some down times of course, but always coming out on top.

I have always wanted kids of my own, and the thought of being a step-dad (even on the first date it was running through my mind) was terrifying to me.  I absolutely hated my step-dad.  He was drunk, angry, loud, physical, controlling and never there.  I knew that it might not have all been his fault, and that I never loved him as a dad and that is partially why he failed to mean anything to me.  I knew I would just be the same failure to these kids if I ever married their mom.  So I just became super fun guy.  Running, chasing, dunking, coloring and just being that guy.  Mom's cool new friend who is super fun.

But in any moment that one asked for a hug, or for me to carry them, or to get some juice, I would get nervous about my actions.  "Don't screw this up.  They will hate you forever for ruining their lives and their mom's life."  Over fucking juice I would think this.

Me and their mom are engaged now.  I want to write about some of my experiences as they happen and that have happened to better understand myself what my life will now be.