The Radical’s Blog: Simple Joys of Fatherhood

You might have noticed my blogging seems to occur in spurts. I have three reasons for this. When they are asleep I lovingly refer to them as Snoggers No. 1, 2 and 3. When they are awake and making it clear they are my biological children, I refer to them using terms the Patch censors will not allow me to print here.

As the result of what my attorney says I can only describe as a “severe difference of opinion in lifestyle” with their mother, I have them one night a week and every other weekend. If you have ever taught or coached my boys or been within a 2-mile radius after someone let them have sugar, you can understand the chaos that is Radical Central when they are here. And thus why there is a pulsing of blogs based on when I have regenerated enough brain cells.

It is a completely different home with and without them. Like most divorced parents, when they are not here, of course I miss them but there is a certain silence and sanity that is lacking when they are with me. Even though Mrs. Radical’s daughter is here full-time, she was bread to have a “quiet” setting that my boys just do not have. I joke with my parents they might have wished me to have kids just like me but they only had ONE of me; I have THREE. My father laughs every time I lament that. He stops laughing when I remind him that I’ll be picking his retirement home one day. Yes “breaking stones” goes in both directions in the Radical family. Hazing is how we show love. My sons have turned it into an art form.

In between breaking up the fights, fixing the X-Box, sitting them down to complete their homework and study their spelling words for the week, getting the Nerf arrows off of the ceiling, doing laundry from the “sickness” that only happens between 1 a.m. and 3 a.m., there are some pretty cool moments of being Dad.

Before I had children, I always thought the highlights of fatherhood would be the traditional bigger Kodak moments: Afternoon catches or watching them graduate or the moment they can beat me in a game without me having to intentionally lose. What I found was quite different. I had thought the highlights would be the “big” moments, but instead it turned out to be the “small” moments.

Having three boys means a lifestyle that is essentially defined by wonderful moments interrupted by chaotic frustrating moments. At my heart I do not take life extremely seriously. If I did I wouldn’t be able to laugh at the three of them trying to determine if they are crying because they are laughing so hard at one of them breaking wind in the car, or because of the toxic fumes that are causing my car’s interior to melt. It is a life where I can valiantly attempt a serious dinner conversation and pray it lasts for three minutes before one of them belches across the table causing all of us to forget whatever we were saying and see who can out do the other. It’s that moment on Hanukkah or Christmas when you realize that getting “air hog” helicopters and Nerf guns at the same holiday is probably not the brightest of ideas. And it’s the moment when you play some cheesy movie on the TV and have a kid curled up on each side drained from burning off all of the energy of the day but resisting bed before 9 p.m. Or the moment watching Monsters, Inc. and holding back the tears remembering when your 11-year-old was that age.

On top of all of the crazy, obnoxious moments associated with having three little Berrys in the house is learning about little girls through my girlfriend’s daughter. She is not “mine” but since she lives with us full-time, I get the wonderful experience of seeing the world through her eyes. And that look of horror in Ms. Radical when on a random Tuesday evening this precious 7-year-old lets a belch fly, shrugs her shoulders and apologizes with a straight face—not for the dinnertime belch, but because it wasn’t as good as Snogger No. 1. I still can’t get used to so much Pepto-Bismol pink in a house but it is a small price to pay for having such an amazing little person. Though having a little girl in a house full of Berrys means coming downstairs and finding that Snogger No. 3 decided to take her entire Barbie collection and create a naked beach. I can’t make some of these stories up and certainly appreciate them giving me good material for their wedding toast.

There are too many of the small, terribly cool moments to list here within the space limits of a Patch blog. Maybe this next story will resonate with many of you who have had the same discussion with your precious darlings. When there were long lists of tasks to complete, my twin snoggers would disappear after the first one was complete to turn on the TV or nearest electronic device. This would cyclically lead to whining by Snogger No. 1 which would be followed by me turning off the device and the eventual “disagreement of opinion” with the kids who are just as headstrong as I am. I got tired of this cycle and sat down the kids and explained why we get angry when they disappear. This conversation did not happen at one time but slowly over a period of weeks.

Fast forward to one of their recent weekends here. We were cleaning up the main floor when Snogger No. 2 popped his head in the kitchen, where this Radical was enjoying dish-pan hands to ask, “Dad, what else do we need to do?” Huh? Wha? Did he ... did he just ask if all of the work is done before running off? Holy crap! This new-age parenting thing might actually work! I could see him maturing just a little bit before my eyes. For the five minutes of silence until he started to bicker with Snogger No. 3, I felt like the happiest father known to man. That little moment of seeing him grow as a person made up for the complete Berry he can be much of the time.

That was the second best parenting moment of that week. The best moment of the week came that Friday. I’ll tell that tale of chocolate-covered arms, frozen hands and humiliated children in an upcoming blog. In the meantime, please use the comment section to provide some of your simple joys of parenthood.