Posted in Ashleigh, Ella, Family, Funny, Kids, Parenting, Taralynn, The Meaning of Life

Just some stuff on my mind…


Do you ever sit down and talk to your children about real shit? I mean like…Real shit. Stuff happens in this world that so many of us try to shield from our young people’s eyes. We try to protect our children, right? That’s what we’re doing by hiding certain things from them, right?

Ashleigh the other day asked me if I had EVER lied to her. She was persistent about this question as much as I was kinda trying to blow it off. I gave her the little “only if it was in your best interest, honey,” which of course was followed by an incredulous “YOU’VE ACTUALLY LIED TO ME?!” lol

Last year, we were living in an apartment on the 5th floor in Midtown. Not exactly the best part of town, but in a nice updated apartment. One day, I heard a bunch of sirens—look down the 5 stories from our window and see a man surrounded by people outside lying on the ground across the street. He had been stabbed. Am I wrong for not telling my kids a man was stabbed across the street—that’s why we’re breaking our lease and getting the hell out of here?

Santa. ‘Nuff said. 🙂

I think I am one of the realest people you will ever meet. I almost always say what’s on my mind—but at the same time—i am very non-confrontational. My ex-wife and I talk on the phone every once in a while. Even less than that do we have to have actual face to face contact. We’ve got the whole “switching kids” thing down to an exact science almost. So when my kids ask me straight up questions—I feel the need to tell them the truth (99.99% of the time).

Having three daughters, and having been on this earth for over thirty years now—I would just like to announce that I’m scared shitless when it comes to teenage girls. In less than 4 years I will have one, and in 6 years, I’ll have two of them. Scary.

I guess what I’m saying is this: I’m at a crossroads in my life. I have absolutely no direction which one to take—and noone has taken my hand and led me one way or the other. I hate having to make decisions on stuff I have no idea about. One thing I have figured out is how to be a good daddy. Does that make me a good person? I would think, ummm, not necessarily. I’ve been a horrible role model for my kids—luckily, they were too young to remember me 5-6 years ago. I just hate when old mistakes come back to bite you in the ass.

My ex-wife and I are not really friends anymore. We had a sit-down talk over the summer that I cannot get out of my effin’ head! Period! I cannot. She asked me if I was going to be a waiter, or bartender, or whatever it is that you’re doing right now the rest of my life…She said, the kids are still young—they don’t care what you’re doing for money—you’re just their daddy to them. Then she goes on to remind me that I WILL have teenage daughters in high school in just a few years—and then they WILL care when their daddy is still waiting tables, or bartending, or whatever the heck it is that I’m doing at the time.

For those that don’t know, my ex-wife used to be an RN. She got her M.B.A. last year and is currently the head of a 4 state region selling cardiovascular equipment. What’s frustrating to me the MOST—about my situation and her’s—is how she looks down on me. Maybe she forgot who proofread her papers for her while she was going through nursing school. Maybe she forgot who worked overnight stocking groceries, just to go to my “real” post office job during the day, while she was going through school. Maybe she forgot who had these beautiful little girls with her years and years ago.

At any rate, I feel like I owe something to my kids. I feel like being a good daddy is NOT always enough. I want them to see that I am a good father. I want them to see that I am a provider for our family. I want them to see that I really am striving to be the best Jeremy I can be. For them, for Brandey, for Ella, for my sister, my mom and my dad, my friends, my coworkers…

I’ve taken so many things for granted over the past few years, so many friends have been left behind. It’s really sad. To me, at least. Sometimes we forget what we’ve gone through to get where we are today. And sometimes we NEED to forget where we came from—so we can get to where we deserve to be today.

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Author:

Hello. I'm a 37 year old installation specialist, former bartender, husband and proud father of five children (all of which are girls).

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