All my single... Dads?

In the near 25 years of my life until now, I can honestly say that I’ve probably met all of two single Dads, and I’m pretty sure both of them were single as a result of a deceased or mentally unfit wife.

I moved to San Antonio, and that number exponentiated. I now know of about 8.

Two of them are really close friends, which leads me to believe there are a LOT more out there that I just haven’t had the pleasure of meeting.

Now when I say “single Dad”, I’m not talking about someone who is SINGLE and has bastards. I know too many of those. I’m also not talking about someone who gets their kids on the weekend, or for one week out of the year. What I’m talking about are men whose exes are completely alive and stable, yet they have full custody of their children for at least 6 months out of the year (and most of them—my 2 friends included—have 100% full custody), and there is no other woman living in their home.

Now think about that for a minute. How many of these guys do you know?

I’m imagining that number is close to 0.

What I’ve noticed from becoming close to some of these extraordinary gentlemen is that the plight of the single Dad is so different from that of a single Mom. Granted, there are a lot of similarities. There are also some unintended bonuses: like that women actually think it’s HOT (for a short while) for a man to be a single Dad, whereas men don’t exactly flock to single Moms. I also imagine society (particularly the work world) probably tends to be a lot more lenient with single Dads because it is such a less understood phenomenon (i.e. single Dads are probably aloud a lot more leeway with coming in late, leaving early, and taking days off for the sake of their kids). Yet there are a lot of things that make the plight of a single Dad particularly admirable, so if you will, allow me to marvel.

Single Dads don’t have friends that are willing to watch their kids. I mean, yes, they probably have female friends, but one thing I’ve heard from my close single Dad friends is that usually, they are weary of letting close female friends be around their kids too much because they might get attached, or they might feel like the women are using their kids to get close to them. I never thought about it like that before, but it makes total sense. So if you only trust people of the same gender with your children (as most women do), you’re pretty much screwed. Because I don’t know a lot of men who will watch their homeboy’s kids for them while they go out on a date or run errands. So they end up scratching the dating game right off their list. Which leads me to my second point.

Single Dads find it harder to bring significant others around their kids. This isn’t to say that single Moms don’t do the same. But I think I definitely see the distinction here. Children with absent mothers tend to look for that womanly affection or comfort more adamantly than they look for guidance and protection from a father – usually the desperate need for father figures comes a bit later in life. For younger children, they need emotion, love, and comfort that generally only women can provide. So by bringing a woman around, you risk the chance of (both parties) getting overly attached, and if things don’t work out, it leaves a very messy situation.

It’s more difficult for single Dads to tap in to that “Mommy” side than it is for single Moms to tap into their “Daddy” side. What I mean is that our society does not encourage men to be emotional, expressive, tender, or vulnerable. So when the mother is out of the picture, a man has to take on roles that up until this point have been foreign to him. The traditional roles of a Daddy: protection, guidance, discipline, and strength, are a lot easier for a woman to take on because it is not dissuaded (as much) for women to have these traits in our society. So in a sense, women are somewhat built by nature (and nurture) to be able to handle single parenting; whereas men are most definitely not.

Single Dads have a lot less of an (emotional) support system in place than single Moms. I’m not saying it’s easy for single Moms. But most single women know other single mothers that they can talk to, and who understand what they’re going through. Even though I know 6 single Dads in this one city, none of them knows each other, and all of them say the same thing when I tell them I know a handful of other single Dads: “What?!? You mean there’s other guys out there like me?? And here I thought I was special…” Sounds like a joke, but I know it stems from a very difficult feeling of loneliness, and even resentment. Because it’s hard. There aren’t exactly a plethora of support groups built around single fatherhood. And if they talk about their vulnerabilities to anyone, they might think he’s weak or less of a man. Single Moms can cry every single day, have a nervous breakdown, seek counseling, and probably even commit herself, and no one will think anything of it because we all sympathize with the plight of the single mother (these days, most of us were even products of one). Yet if a single Dad shows one sign of weakness, he’s still just a man crying, and who wants to see that?

So… I’d like to take the time to give a shout out to all my single Dads out there handlin’ their business. Keep grinding. ;-) It’ll all be worth it in the end.

Now put your hands up, Uh uh oh Uh uh Oh oh oh oh Oh Oh oh.

I see you.

People here are nice

This morning, I was running late for work (as usual) and (for once) the bus driver decided to wait for me before taking off. It was the last shuttle for another 15 minutes, and I was fully aware of that as I approached at a speedy pace.

Yet once I got on the bus, I noticed a line of people waiting to be seated, and I realized this probably meant seats were running low. To my chagrin, I was the last person left standing without a seat, and the driver started to glance in his rearview mirror, wondering why everyone wasn’t sitting down. It only took me a second to read the big sign in bold letters that said “ABSOLUTELY NO STANDING ROOM” and realize it was time to exit shuttle left. Without hesitation, a young man sitting down beside me scooted out of his seat and told me to sit there. I initially declined and started to make my way back to the front, when he grabbed my arm and said, “Hey, either you’re going to sit there or the seat’s gonna stay empty because I’m not sitting back down.” So I thanked him and obliged to sit in his seat. He squatted down in the back and tried to make it look like he was sitting in the back row. I know the bus driver probably noticed, but I guess he couldn’t get in trouble if it looked to everyone else like he was sitting down. So he took off, and for the duration of the trip, I was in complete and total shock over the fact that a complete stranger gave up his seat and squatted down for 15 minutes on a shaky charter bus just so I could get to work on time. I was overwhelmed.

All I kept thinking was what I should do in return. Give him a hug? Keep saying thank you over and over until he wished he hadn’t done it? Introduce myself?? Nothing seemed appropriate in this situation. He did a really amazingly nice thing, and I doubt he wanted any credit or repayment for it. He was just a nice person – or either he was just being a gentleman (because chivalry is not dead in the military for sure)—and anything I did would just take away from the simplicity of his random act of kindness. So I just thanked him again and enjoyed the ride to work.

But it got me thinking. I didn’t deserve that. I was late. I should have been there on time, and he could have stayed seated. I’m not a good person. Why should people be nice to me? I was so humbled.

I was also reminded that just yesterday, the cashier at the defac (cafeteria), who probably recognized my OCD, was curious as to why I did not get French toast that morning, and I told him they had run out. So he says “brb” and goes in the kitchen and gets me the last piece of French toast “so I don’t have a bad day”. Not only did he get it for me, he gave it to me for free.

And I was speechless. Again, moved by kindness. And again, undeserving.

I can think of so many situations where I've felt this way, especially since I’ve been here. Random strangers helped me move into my apartment (from start to finish) the day I got here. A random guy offered me tips on where to go, what to do, and how to get around the first day I moved in, and his advice has been priceless ever since. People give me free stuff, help me out when I don't even ask, and compliment me all the time (not just here), and I know I don’t deserve it.

The truth is none of us deserves anything good that happens in our lives. Which is why we always want to pay people back when they do something nice. Only there’s no way to pay someone back for a kind gesture without taking away from the random benevolence in it. What makes people feel good about doing something kind is knowing they did it without getting anything back. So the only way I can return the favor to the guy from the bus, or the cashier from lunch, or the people who helped me move in is to pay it forward. Someone was kind to me, so when the opportunity presents itself, I should do something completely selfless for someone else, and maybe they will feel compelled to do the same, and so on and so forth.

That’s what makes this a “nice” town. It’s not that people are just raised better here or the culture or stress level is different than everywhere else (though that might also be true). It’s merely the perpetuation of kind acts which allows for an atmosphere of graciousness and humility.

The beauty of kindness is that it only starts with one person, yet has the propensity to grow exponentially, as long as we nourish it and continue its cycle.

And it usually doesn’t even take something big. It’s as easy as complimenting someone’s outfit or haircut, or giving someone a hug, or telling them they’re appreciated. Sometimes even the smallest gesture can make a big difference on someone’s day – even sometimes the difference between life and death.

People aren’t nice here. Not anymore than they are anywhere else. People just tend to take opportunities for generosity when they’re presented with them. But that’s most likely because someone was nice to them, and so on and so forth, all starting back with just one.

That person could be you.

So make your town a nice town. Do something nice for someone today. :)


“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven…” –Matthew 5:16.

Lookin for Love

I heard a startling statistic the other day. Someone said that 1 in 8 couples married last year in the United States met online. Now, as a statistician (hehe), I know that 7 out of 8 statistics are completely made up, and I’m pretty sure that’s one of them (as is that one). But even so, I happen to know of at least 3 couples that met through internet dating sites or random connections via social networking sites, and it seems to be a growing phenomenon despite, or perhaps in favor of, statistics.

I’ve thought about joining one of these dating sites once or twice – maybe even signed up for a free one just to check it out, and then deleted myself after like one day of not being impressed. And I certainly have friends that have actually paid for the eharmony’s or the match.com’s at hopes of finding Mr. or Ms. Right via PhotoShopped pictures and sound bite communication.

As for me, I have my doubts. Well, I should say reservations.

It’s not that I don’t think it’s possible to find true love on the net. I mean, I guess it’s not different from the old days when people (who were hooked up, I dunno, by their grandparents or something) would write each other for years and years and send pictures, and make this profound connection through merely words on a page, having never actually met. But in most of those situations, there was some other circumstance which allowed them to know of each other in the first place—like mutual friends or wartime correspondence. In any case, it feels more like fate when you didn’t seek out that person, but find them, instead, by chance.

So I guess my real issue with internet dating, speed dating, or any other thing we do to seek out a significant other, is that I feel like, in some weird way, we’re attempting to take fate into our own hands. It’s like I’m telling God, “Actually, You’re not doing it fast enough, so I think I’ll go ahead and find someone on my own, thank You very much.”

And in my experience, every time I try and take things into my own hands (in any aspect of life), it never seems to work out quite as well as when it happens just by chance. I have a sticky suspicion God's plans are just a little bit more perfect-er than my own. Which makes me pretty hesitant to do anything that even remotely resembles my own idea.

I guess on the other hand, one could argue that the reason they felt the desire to go to that particular dating site at that particular time was because they were meant to find that exact person there… Is it still taking fate into your own hands if you think fate is leading you to that site in the first place??

.

Maybe that’s a stretch, but I don’t think it’s any different than, say, going to a club or gym or even church with the idea in the back of your mind (I don’t do this, ya’ll – lol) that you could potentially meet the love of your life there. Just like dating sites, odds are PRETTY high that I won’t find my next great relationship in the frozen food aisle at Kroger (like my friend, whoever...), so what’s the real harm in going there with the hopes that I might?

.

I suppose the harm is that when I’m at any other (regular) place where people meet, I generally go there with some other intention other than to find someone to date. And even if that IS my first priority (like going to a bar, for instance), I’m probably getting something else out of it (like a fun night out) aside from those realized hopes. If I happen to pick up a guy, it’s just a bonus.

But when we seek out love, are we not setting ourselves up for disappointment in the end?? The internet allows for convenient omissions we might not have otherwise had the ability to avoid had we connected in person… So if we build this person (or ourselves) up to be something they’re not, in the end, will we not be sadly disillusioned?

Furthermore, wouldn’t it be better to know that love found you, rather than the other way around?? Where does the line between fate and free will get fuzzy??

I dunno, I’m just talkin…

Any thoughts??

Alphabet Soup

Mmmmm, all this needs is a little Texas Pete.

So it’s been awhile. Okay, that’s probably an understatement. But if you knew how hectic my life has been (and how little internet access I’ve had) over the past 5 (geez) months, you’d be just a little bit forgiving. So 10-second wrap-up: I completed my thesis, exams, and earned a Master’s degree, took a road trip (or 3) across the country, got a job (HALLELUJAH!), rented out my house in Atlanta, moved to San Antonio (in 3 days flat), and started a brand new life in a city where I know absolutely 100% no one. Aannnddd breathe.

So before I get rolling with all the mentally constipated blogs that I’ve written in my mind over the past 5 months (which hopefully will be posted every couple of days over the next few weeks), there’s just one tiny thing I have to acknowledge out in the open just one time (since this is the place I’m supposed to come clean about things like this), and hopefully never again have to admit:

I was wrong.

Okay, lift your jaw up off the floor. I know, I know. It’s not something that happens very often (well, the admitting part anyway). But recently, I’ve had to take back some of the harshest words I’ve ever expressed, and it’s a lesson that I need to share.

So here’s the message; like to hear it? Here is goes.

God has a twerrific (what movie?) sense of humor.

He likes when you tell Him about your plans as if life’s actually going to go your way at any point. More specifically, He loves when you say things like “I’ll never do this” or “That will never happen to me,” because it just gives Him that much more incentive to make those things happen even faster.

The best part about God’s sense of humor is that He will not only make you EAT your words, but for extra fun, He’ll make sure you LIKE the taste of them. MmmmMMmmmmm, sweet regret. Tastes so good.

So two years ago, my Mom said she was moving to Texas, and my Dad decided to buy a house for her to live in. I cursed the grounds of that house. Cried about how they were moving to the ONE STATE I would NEVER live in, and when I got married and had children of my own (or bastards without the marriage), they would never know their grandparents just like I didn’t get to know my Tejano grandpeeps. I vowed to live on the east coast for the rest of my life. I am, after all, an east coast baby. Born and raised in VA, undergrad in PA, and grad school in GA. There was just no way. Furthermore, the dumbest, most backward, racist people (outside of Alabama) live in Texas, and I could never be a part of that society. Words, words, words.

Now for the feast. With my mom to Texas came my nephew; with my nephew came my sister. My brother had a daughter, and now, just based on pure mathematics (which is how generally I roll), I have more immediate family in the state of Texas than I do on the entire east coast. Damn you, arithmetic.

Furthermore, it only took a couple conversations with my nephew telling me he wants to move to Atlanta to live with me to realize I can’t spend another year missing him grow up. He is, after all, pretty much the only man in my life. The other man in my life (my Daddy) is retiring in one year and moving – you bet – to Texas.

All roads lead to hell (in a pick-up truck). Where the temperatures break 100 every single day, and there’s more pride (and prejudice) than a Jane Austen novel.

So here I am.

Now for the icing on the cake: I kinda like it here. San Antonio, anyway. My job is pretty awesome (especially given the “scenery” of men in uniform everywhere), the people are (generally) really nice, I the racial climate is actually not that bad, and the male to female ratio is probably the REVERSE of that in Atlanta (Thank you Jesus, and the U.S. military). Plus I love my apartment, the area of town I live in, the River Walk, and nightlife, and really I have no complaints (except the heat and – lack of – radio stations). It’s exactly where I think I should be, and where God wanted me, for that matter.

Because like I said before, our plans are pretty ridiculous in God’s eyes. Our words are just fuel for the eternal flame He has burning for our lives.

Yes, I moved to Texas, and yes, I like it here. Who knows what’s next in my life, but since I’ve been here, I’ve found myself eating more and more of the syllables and phrases I've uttered into existence all my life. I would share them all, but there’s honestly not enough room.

So lesson learned. You should learn from me, too. Always make sure your words are sweet like honey because you are certain to taste them in the future.

Back in the day, God would have withheld my entrance into the promise land for saying some slick mess out the side of my neck.

Thank goodness He seems to have since (the Old Testament days) developed a profound sense of humor.

Bon apetit!