Night Terrors

There is something that I had not heard of until my daughter experienced them a few years ago; they are called night terrors. What happens is that she will start crying out and flaying around while still asleep, even while I am there trying to wake her and saying whatever comforting thing I can think of. Sometimes these last up to 10 minutes, and are very emotionally draining for her as well as myself. Last night she even fell out of bed when my wife was going to her, and she hit her mouth on her small table that is next to her bed. She still didn't wake up right away. 5 times I ran to her room when I heard her crying out last night. I then sat on the side of her bed while I tried to keep her from hurting herself while she was kicking about, saying, "No, no, stop it!" It's confusing to me, because I sometimes can't tell whether she is talking in her dream, or is talking to me in her upset state. She even kicked me in the face twice, sent my glasses flying and tried to bite me. The best thing that I have figured out to do is to first of all not get angry with her. It's not easy. Second is to not give up on her, and to stay close while saying positive and reaffirming statements like "You're ok. You are safe. You are in your room and you had a bad dream. I am here with you and I will not leave you alone. You are completely good and are not doing anything wrong." It might be that saying those things is more of a help for me than her. It helps me stay present with her while she is going through this, and it helps me to not become reactive.

Also my son woke up a few times last night, as he usually does. Last night though, it was unusual that he wanted me to put him down while I was in the bathroom. He walked over to the doorway and pointed to the dimly lit living room while talking in his baby talk. He then walked on his own down to the end of the hallway. I followed him while he stood there at 3 in the morning, pointing to the loving room and having a conversation with his imaginary friend. I say imaginary, but truthfully I wonder. I believe that there is more in this world than we perceive, and sometimes something happens to remind me of this. As I picked up my son last night it seemed to me that he wanted me to see what he was seeing, and he seemed disappointed that I couldn't. I was too.

Tsunami Thoughts

It was raining very hard this morning as I drove to work. My wife was in the car with me along with my 18 month old son and 6 year old daughter. As I was driving my wife shared with me the Oprah show she watched last night while she couldn't sleep.

The show she talked about had a couple who had lost their son in some tragedy. It was a very sad story, and everyone was deeply touched but the incredible amount of sadness and vulnerability that the parents displayed while on the show. At one point Oprah stopped the conversation with the parents, and addressed the audience, noting the great feeling of loss that everyone was feeling for this family. "Now," she said, "magnify that by 260,000 and you will have some idea of how much sadness there is in the world right now from the recent tsumani that took that many lives. That's more than a million people left who are in deep grief."

After the tsunami happened I found myself trying to comprehend what this meant. I experienced the same type of feeling when 9/11 happened. As I watched the video of the planes crashing into the tower over and over again, my mind trying to comprehend what had just happened, I found myself unable to understand the meaning of such a tragedy. The same thing happened to me as I watched several of the home videos published on the web of the recent tsunami in the Indian Ocean. In one video, all you can see is the ocean rushing over the land like a raging river, carrying houses, cars, and most certainly people. You can hear the crying of children in this video and the mother is saying something in a soothing voice. Even though I do not understand the language that the mother was speaking, I am certain I know what she was saying... "It's gonna be alright. It will stop soon and we will be alright." In my mind I can't help but imagine if it was me and I was with my children in those circumstances. I would be terrified for their safety. I would feel rage at the helplessness of my situation. And I would reassure my children calmly all the while praying that the house we were standing in would hold and not get washed into the torrent of water.

Time to take a deep breathe.

I'd like to think that there would always be some heroic act that I could do that would save my children if needed, but I know that is probably not true. We are all so small, our physical bodies so fragile. What a great lesson on the importance of being in the present moment, and of cherishing the time we have together.

Many years ago I heard a person speak about his experience being "dead". He was clinically dead for 15 minutes, but the doctors and nurses with him at the time kept on performing CPR and pumping oxigen into his body. His heart stopped beating and then started back up again. He had one message that he wanted to share with everyone, and that was the importance of love. Nothing else matters in the end. We do not remember all of the times we were angry, or disappointed, nor do we grieve for any of the things we wanted to do but didn't. We simply feel all of the love we shared in our life, and remember all of the times we felt the expressions of love. This keeps me going. It keeps me from making the mistake of persuing financial gain that takes me away from those whom I love, or from running from the overwelming stress (at times) of marriage and parenting. It keeps me honest, and it keeps me real.

I pray for the many, many people who are suffering so greatly right now. And I go... onward.

Gray Monday

I am trying to get started here at work, but my attention keeps wondering back to my daughter. When I said goodbye to her this morning she had a very sad look on her face. When this happens, I want to do nothing else but be there for her and ask her why she's so sad and listen, truly listen, to what she is saying. But there is this board of directors meeting this morning and I have so much to do to make sure it goes well. So I just touch her cheek, look her in the eye and say, "Everything will be alright sweetheart. I will see you this evening." Then I go.

Now I am at work, and to be honest, I am a mess inside. I am torn up by guilt that I am not there enough for my kids. And yet, it also seems that I never have enough time to get everything done at work. So many times I find that I give and give but still find that more is required of me. I get so tired, but I keep giving. Occassionaly I start to break, and I lose my temper and yell at someone. Then I feel disgusted with myself so I pick myself up and start giving again.

But back to the present. The questions "Am I doing enough? Am I doing the right thing?" are weighing heavily in my heart. What is the right thing to do here? Am I going to end up being a dad who was never there for his children?

I'm beginning to obsess over this when my phone rings. It's my wife calling me from her cell phone while she is driving my daughter and her friend to school. I am relieved to hear my daughters voice in the background as she talks and laughs with her friend. She's ok! My wife gives me the "to-do" list for the day, and then goes.

OK, now I can focus on my job...

Here I Go...

I have been thinking about this thing called Blogging for a while now. Like a lot of people, I have a rich and complex inner world that seldom gets shared or appreciated fully. Is this what Blogging is for? Well, let's find out...

I am a man, a husband and a dad. I didn't become a dad until I was 35 years old, at which time I felt that I was as ready as I could ever be to take on this immense responsibility. Although I felt awkward at first around kids, I had no doubt that it was what I wanted to do. Perhaps it was even my mission in life; to be a good dad.

What I found is that being a dad is my passion. I need to be a dad who is different than my dad. I need to be a dad who is caring, kind and nonviolent. I need to be a dad whom his children continue to love and respect as they grow up. I need to be a dad who cares, who is there, and who understands the emotional needs of the rest of the family.

Too many times when I out in public I witness parenting that appals me. I'd like to help out. I'd like to go up to a stranger and say, "It looks like you might want some help. Parenting is hard work and information about being a good parent is not easily sought for. Here's what I think would help...". But I am a man, and most (maybe all?) people have at one time or another been hurt and/or attached by a man somewhere, sometime. Because of this, it does not go over too well to have a man approach a stranger with advise about parenting. On the other hand, I see my wife do this often, and she does it so well that it amazes me. When she does approach a stranger with the screaming child I usually stand back and watch and wait for them to yell at her. But this have never happened. Sometimes there's a polite thank you, and they leave. Most of the time the other parent responds with an extreme amount of gratefulness that someone had the courage to breach the isolation that parents are often left in. My wife is a constant reminder to me that it doesn't have to be that way.

So, here I am. This is my first time "Blogging" so I do not know what to expect next. Is somebody actually going to read this?

Sincerely,

Jason