I rescued Simon from the pound, after seeing him there, labeled a “dog-fighter.” A big black dog, 80 lbs., they said he would never find a home, people were reluctant to adopt any large black dog, and the label he carried among the other dogs was a virtual death sentence.
He appeared scared, but loveable. We brought our other dog, a smaller pointer mix that we’d also rescued, to see if they would get along. They did and we adopted Simon.
So, herewith Part Three of my blogs about the “Big Three” subjects most couples argue about. We’ve done money and sex; now “the kids.” I will declare, at the onset, that this issue is usually more combustible in blended families, though it certainly is present in nuclear ones as well.
For us, we had to deal with me having raised my kids alone for several years and my second wife having not had kids or any meaningful (especially living with them) experience with kids. But, she’s got an opinion and has never been bashful about expressing it (anymore than me).
What happened to kids listening to their parents? It seems whatever I ask my boys to do, the response is always some sort of “No,” whether it be questioning why I won’t do it myself or saying “later.” Am I missing something or have I just become a total wimp of a dad?
When did it become okay to disobey our parents with relative impunity? I guess when us boomers became parents and began spoiling our kids by giving them everything they wanted.
Remembering Chevy Chase in those summer vacations movies reminds me of the fact that most so-called “family vacations” are, at best, vacations for the kids and torture for the parents. I’m generalizing, of course, but most generalizations as well as clichés, have a strong basis in truth. I stand by the proposition that we parents usually need a vacation after our family one, if only to recover and rest.
This summer my younger son, David, got to spend several weeks at the sleep- away camp he loves, while my older son, Will, is indulging his passion for rock ‘n’ roll at a Rock School where he’s taking drum lessons, and participating in numerous bands and concerts through the school. He’ll also be living, figuratively, in our garage with his own band, driving the nearby horses crazy, or am I mistaking their thrashing about as dancing?