pet cemetary

There are tasks and duties that we have to see to as parents that are not enjoyable, but they are every bit as important as "the good stuff." As a single parent, I lack the benefit (or hinderance) of another's readily available opinion when it comes to such matters. I do the best I can. I learned from two very wonderful parents of my own.

Today, Buddy the Betta crossed over the River Jordan. The parent/child/pet triangle is a delicate one. Often times the child's pet becomes as much ours and sometimes it makes complete transfer in responsibility (though never "officially".) Such was the case with Buddy. Buddy was the first pet that Finn got with just his dad, and he lived at Finn and his dad's house. In ways, Buddy signaled a normalcy, a sense of "home" in our house. Located in the kitchen by the side door stairs, he was greeted upon entering, and said goodbye to when leaving. He was a good fish in that he was active and quite beautiful (handsome, rather.) He seemed to enjoy people being in the kitchen, which we always are and he would frolic around his tank in what appeared to be performance. He watched me bake many many cookies, sharing his table with floured boards and cooling racks. And he listened to good music of all kinds. 

I think Buddy lived a good life, as good as we could give him. After a few tears, and a big hug, Finn put Buddy into the freezer. We'll give him a proper burial in the Spring.
Finn asked me a couple of years ago if animals go to heaven. Yes.

#drawforanhour

Sorting through drawings. Great time with Finn last night. Saw some wonderful people that I don't get to see much anymore. Endi (Poskovic), Julie and their boys, growing like weeds (now that Finn has cut his hair, Elvin stands alone as the long haired lad triumphant), and Nick Tobier whose energy, "bounce" and passion I miss a great deal. It was also heartening to see former students out and about engaging and infusing. Keith Kemp (with grey in his beard!) and creative wiz Michael Eugene Burdick (who graciously shared his table with me.) Ryan Wheeler was there from CCS (though I never had Ryan in a class, a piece of his "inspirational" artwork adorns my refrigerator.) Also nice to see Ryan Standfest laboring over his huge pile of medium, next to Timothy van Laarand John Charnota with his logical, dice born drawings. Chris Riddell still has that laugh by the way. Had a few words with Jennifer Belair, and Melissa Dettloff (who share some WSU lineage with me.) Nick and Grace, current students from CCS who JUST finished finals and, rather than get immediately out of Dodge, came out to see what the big deal was. You two have cemented your grade of D-, well done. I am sure I have missed many, but the evening was a blur. A marvelous blender of unfiltered making. Thanks for the invite Alison and Megan.

Off to Dick Blick today to get Finn a "big pad." I can't describe what it feels like to have your son follow you up the creative path. Past the finger paintings, pinch pots, and paper plate "hand turkeys" into the REAL stuff. Whether he stays on this path or not is up to him, but for now, we're going to need more paper...

holidays

A divorce doesn't prevent the holidays from coming, but it certainly changes them and  complicates them a bit. I went from a father who tucked his son into bed on Christmas Eve, and was there when he awoke on Christmas morning, to a dad who drives cross town to pick him up on the 25th, consequently missing out on both the "eve" and "the morning."

Traditions have to be revisited, often to appease a court order, signed by a stranger. That's the way it is. Over time, hopefully, lines of communication can grow to allow "flexibility." But a child is by far the most important factor in all of this. Not the petty pissing matches of his parents.

The number on the calendar tends to mean less to me than it used to. I attend mass on Christmas Eve, and I miss my son. The singing of Silent Night brings tears to my cheeks for more reasons than it does the others in the pew, but this reflection and ceremony of emotion, fueled by absence, along with heartfelt thanks for another year of his health and happiness (he was born on December 31st), serves to strengthen my bond with Finn. 

I have always tried to create  new traditions for my son and I during the holiday season. We hang stockings, he and I, and we put up and decorate a tree. This year he hung every ornament himself with pride. We have an advent calendar, and I am charged with "keeping up" when he's not with me. I also put out a plate of cookies on Christmas Eve, that are mysteriously consumed, save some crumbs before Finn and I arrive home. Our Christmas is on the evening of Christmas Day, after the trip to relatives, good warm showers, the donning of pajamas, and some special snacks. We sit in front of the fire and I get to be Santa's conduit. But I also get to be Finn's father at a time when being so is the greatest gift I will ever receive. I have enough socks, and I purchase my own cologne. We stay up late, laughing, until he just can't keep his eyes open anymore. That's when I get to tuck him in.

The next morning we have a grand breakfast together, and plot our day of doing nothing. Nothing at all. The 26th is the Feast of St. Stephen (St. Stephen's Day) for good Catholics, Boxing Day for you Kiwis and Canadian friends. With all due respect to the liturgical calendar, and a nod to old St. Steve, I like to joke that this is MY day (my name is Stephen after all.) My special Christmas Day with Finn.

collaboration

Finn and I make our own Holiday cards. We take turns in the creative seats. Sometimes I illustrate, and he supplies the "writing" and sometimes we reverse roles (he really doesn't need me, but it's nice that he lets me play along.) This is a project that I always look forward to. It's a true team thing, just him and I. We even have small, informal critiques where we discuss the direction of things, modifying where appropriate, as well as celebrating a winning effort. Finding something that you and your child/children do that's unique and special is vital when it comes to building and strengthening that single parent son and/or daughter relationship. Having it be a wholesome activity that bears fruit which can be shared with others is a bonus. Opening a meth cookery is not wholesome, and I would advise against it. It's illegal and it's dangerous. Let Mr. Brown the science teacher instruct your children in chemistry. That's his job.

Finn's cards have been shown in galleries, have garnished awards, and have even been interpreted in the form of dolls, lovingly hand made by one of our special and immensely talented art pals, Mary Fortuna. These have found a home in our house, reminding us that we actually do make a pretty good team.

We are in the process of working on the card for 2015. I am copy writing this one and, I think Finn and I will split the drawing duties. We don't make very many so if you get one, it means that you are undoubtedly a very good person, who has made an impression on my son, to the point that we both wish for you a happy holiday.

If not, well, try harder next year.

mom's got a boyfriend

Sooner of later it happens. Your child's mother, your "ex", the woman you were supposed to grow old with finds someone else. What did you expect? You knew this was going to happen. In fact, you may have found new love in your life as well. This can be something that is at the very least confusing, and probably pretty frustrating to young ones.  Finn's mother and I split when he was about 5, and it wasn't very pleasant. It was a war. I could tell tales of horror, throw some dirty words and utilize smear tactics in here, but I've moved along and my relationship with my son is wonderful. My relationship with his mother is cordial and I think we both have Finn's best interests at heart. Let's leave it at that. I've taken quite a bit of high road in the last several years, and the view from up here is pretty good. I think that Finn thought that maybe his mom and dad would get back together. This is probably pretty common. We aren't getting back together.

My son  mentions the "new guy" who lives with them now, and apparently he's  pretty cool. I'm glad to hear it, but the boyfriend is inconsequential to me. The most important thing for my son to know is that I am his father, and that I will always be his father. Always. Just because there's someone else's shoes at the door, and a different color toothbrush in the bathroom doesn't mean I've abandoned him in any way. I think he knows that. Kids are smart. I also don't want him to be afraid of new relationships that arise in his world. He's met some really good people in his short life, and he's going to meet a lot more. Some of these will be through his mom and dad. Oh yeah, he's going to meet some assholes too. I met a couple just the other day, but that's life and life is for everybody.

I won't lie. It's not always easy thinking about some other guy playing catch with my son, or showing him tricks on his skateboard, but in an odd way, I'm glad he's there.

He's never getting any of my recipes though. Fuck that.

change is good

My son got a haircut today. It was his idea entirely. He does things when he's ready. That's how he rolls, and it's working for him so far. When he was ready to ride a bike, he did it, When he was ready to love broccoli he did that too. Some sick little boy or girl is going to get some beautiful hair, until their own beautiful hair grows back. His karma will stay with them forever though. My son is my hero.

I won't lie. I will miss my son's long beautiful hair. It was his "thing," one of his unique traits that set him apart from others. But his hair alone isn't what makes him unique. He's my son, my only child and his actions often humble me. His ability, willingness, and desire to do kind things without the imposed filters and prejudices that can come with age may be his greatest quality. The hair can always grow back if he wants it.  

A former student wrote these wonderful words about him. 

"A former professor of mine (yes Professor Mr. S.) has a very noble son that just donated his hair to make wigs for cancer patients. He did this out of the kindness of his soul. As an adult you don't always get to see that side of society. It's sad. Kids see the world for what it is. Its not black and white, but more of a gray tone."

Our kids teach us stuff all the time, slow down and pay attention.

AM feeding

In case you haven't noticed, food is a common topic here. To do all the stuff they need to do (and that they want to do,) your child needs to eat. Not once a day, not in a moving car, (though there are exceptions, the occasional Donutville USA en route to school is an exception), and not when you feel like it. Kids have gas tanks like everyone else. When it's empty, they break down and don't go. Fill the tanks with cheap ass gas ALL the time, or let it run too low consistently and performance will suffer.

Breakfast is key for a variety of reasons in this west side bachelor pad, and it's key for both of us. 1) It gets fuel in us. 2) We have some "top of the morning" face time (I don't see my son for 3-4 days at times, so every second is precious to me and, I hope him.) 3) Gets some order going and shakes off that sleep residue so BOTH of us are ready to hit it.

Simple stuff really. Eggs are great. We like omelets. I've always liked omelets. You can put stuff in them. I don't care for the parts of an egg on their own: The yolk is too concentrated, and the whites are weak. One world, one egg.  If the omelet breaks down, it's scrambled eggs. So what. Get some fruit in your kids too. Berries, bananas, kiwi, whatever. Cut it up if you have to. Mix it up if you want. My son likes fruit cold. Kids go in and out of likes and dislikes, so stay on top of this. ASK THEM. Cereal is timeless. We favor the classics here. Rice Krispies, Cheerios, Life, etc. None of that sugar bomb bullshit. None of that crap with monsters pimping it. The real Dracula impaled people, and the mythical character drinks your blood until you die. The Frankenstein-ish fellow is made up of parts of other dead people. Yummy. Sometimes we use the ready to go crescent roll stuff. Don't judge me. I make biscotti. You can wrap things with this. Stuff like sausages, cheese, bacon, etc. The sausages and bacon can be cooked ahead and stored in the fridge until needed. This stuff also comes pre-cooked in the store.

I try to make the plate funny when I can, but that's just how we roll in our house. Faces are easy. There are lots of web sources that show simple illustrated expressions. Working personality into these faces is challenging but not impossible. Eyebrows are devices for conveying attitude and mood. Mouths that contain teeth indicate, depending on the number and color, what area of Appalachia the breakfast character is from. Or, if they're from the U.K. When Finn gets older I may tackle the likenesses of famous literary giants like Joyce, or Tolstoy, or even Vonnegut. But for now it's good ol' Mr. raspberry eyes, sharing  his croissant grin. Even though he's quite resentful and dissatisfied on the inside, and dreads the idea that his destiny is in a little boy's tummy.