Monday, October 12, 2009

When The Time Comes...

To My Sweet Daughters,

If you are reading this post, chances are I am either dead, watching football or hiding from your Mother. It is also quite possible that it is a combination of the latter two. Regardless of the circumstance, I am assuming you are reading this some years from now...

You might be wondering why I have an entire journal of my life and experiences, posted on the internet, for all the world to see? (with the exception of the Amish. Assuming they are still not using the internet.) The answer is complicated but I'll try to explain it to you now.

Parents take a lot of pictures of their kids. We also take a lot of videos to capture some of the most important moments in our lives. The problem is we're too lazy and often too inept, to organize them and put them into photo albums for you to look at later on in life. The videos also become totally obsolete and useless after about three years because the tape formats change so frequently. This is precisely why your Mother and I will never get to watch that video we made together in college. Who the hell has a God damn C-VHS converter nowadays? The point is, I wanted to keep a detailed journal of all the times we were going to share. Good, Bad and even Ugly.

My hope was that someday, when you have Rugrats of your own, you can look back on the hundreds of entries in this journal and find some extremely specific references that relate back to experiences you might be having in your journey through parenthood.

The truth of the matter is, being a Dad hasn't always been a cake walk and contrary to popular belief, raising kids isn't always by the book. Every day isn't always a Brady Bunch day. As a matter of fact, it's fucking hard as hell. By the way, I curse a lot in this journal. I know I've always told you not to say bad words and it seems a bit hypocritical of me but that's why I curse here. Because I always thought it was important not to use bad language around you two. This journal was my safe haven.

I want you to know that I'm totally fine with you reading all of these things but at the same time I want you to understand that there are things in here that you might find a bit hurtful or confusing... I promise this was not my intention. When I think about this, it upsets me. The problem is, even though daughters sometimes think of their Dad's as perfect, this couldn't be further from the truth. Your Dad has a ton of flaws and sometimes those imperfections are hard to hide but this is exactly why I want you to read this stuff. Being a parent is anything but perfect. It's impossible not to mess up. Sometimes you screw things up daily. Only when you accept, that this is OK, is when you gain the power to understand that it is all part of the amazing journey.

The two of you make me so proud. I can't imagine what my life would be like without the two of you in it. Getting up every day is so much easier knowing that your precious faces will be there to greet me. Even though you both know exactly how to push my buttons, there isn't a second that goes by that I don't feel the essence of your very soul, pumping through my veins. You are truly a part of me and I can't remember myself before you came along.

So go ahead and read on my dear children. I hope that you take solace in knowing that the times we had together were anything but ordinary. Because each of you are so completely and utterly unique as human beings, there are plenty of surprises you will find in here along the way. Enjoy them and take them for what they are. Honest moments in time...

While writing this journal has been rewarding and fun in so many ways, it's also been a test of wills at times. When you expose your life in an honest way, people judge you based on the words you write. More often than not, this judgement is passed by total strangers who can't possibly know how much I care for you. I've learned from those people but not about parenting. I've learned that I write this journal for YOU and for no one else but you. If I'm not true to myself with the words that I write, than in turn, I'm not being true to you.

Someone once said that, "Words are like feathers in the wind. Once you let them go, you can never get them back again. They are gone forever, so be careful with the words you choose."

Unfortunately I heard this after I called you guys assholes in one of my entries. Sorry about that. I took a lot of shit for that one from Mom and Grandma. My bad...

If in fact you are reading this and I am watching football, can you please bring me a beer? I've probably gained about 60 pounds since writing this and it's a good bet that I'm too God Damn fat and lazy to get up the stairs to get it myself. Oh and bring the Chips and Salsa while you're at it. Thanks. I love you both!

Your Out-Numbered (Hopefully watching football or at least in Heaven.)