The sins (I mean geekiness) of the father

In the Bible it says that the sins of the father will be passed down to the third and fourth generation. From a psychological/family systems point of view, what this is saying is that the bad habits of the parents are passed down to the child. In many ways, one of the goals in life is to break the cycle of that negative behavior.

Yeah, way too heady for me right now so I'm not going much into it. One things for sure though, my son's been picking up on my geekatude. He's heavily into Transformers now. He loves Star Wars, he even knows what a Sarlaac pit is. Yeah, he's cool like that. He is getting his identity from me. He is learning from me what it means to be a man. And I so don't want to fail him on that.

But this got me thinking about another father I grew up watching. Grew up watching and saw how he felt he had failed. Saw how his son felt he had failed. Yes, I'm speaking of Worf and his son Alexander.

Worf son of Mogh, lived a life of failure in many ways. He was a strong Klingon. To tell the truth, he in many ways is more Klingon than Klingons. In my mind (and of fans) he is the epitome of what it means to be a Klingon. Yet he still lived with the shame of being raised by humans. He lived with the shame knowing that his father was blamed for the destruction and massacre of the Kithomer colony outpost.

After the death of his babymamma (that is what Alexander's mother basically was, no offense), Worf attempted to raise his son Alexander. The shame of the father was passed down to his son. His son did not take a Klingon name. Maybe this could protect his son. Maybe. But soon Alexander was sent to live with Worf's adoptive parents and was raised amongst humans, even taking their last name Rozhenko (Row-shank-O). Sadly, we do not see the child Alexander again until the war with the Dominion. And then, he comes in attempting to be a Klingon but keeps the surname Rozhenko. Again, shame for Worf that his son fighting on a Klingon Bird of Prey knows nothing of his own Klingon heritage, the honor, the valor, the philosophy of what it means to be Klingon and Worf is teased because of it.

As a father, I fear failing my son. I fear that I will bring him shame, that I will create in him some wound that will take years of therapy (and in turn tons of money) to deal with. I don't want to pass down my shame to him. I don't want to pass down my own personal demons, my own failures as a man down to him.

Instead, I so want to pass down to him those qualities that are good. Are honorable. What I like about the relationship between Worf and Alexander is that Worf, after some struggles of his own, is able to welcome back his son into his life and Alexander is able to welcome his father back into his life too. Worf is then able to begin passing down the honor, the valor, all that it means to him to be Klingon down to Alexander.

I want to do this for my own son too. I deeply want to teach him what it means to be a man of God. I want him to know the importance and honor it is to be a disciple of Jesus Christ. I want him to know that he is strong in Jesus. I want him to know the honor and valor and responsibilities that are required to be a man of God. I want him to have what I had to learn.

If Worf can do it, so can I, but by the Grace of God go I.

from a beetle to a warrior

I recently got my 5 year-old son interested in Transformers. And boy is he now interested in them. He has Transformers underwear (to which he proclaimed in church one fine morning: "I'm wearing underwear that has daddy's toys on them!), a Transformer backpack, a Transformers lunch box and a Transformers folder for school. He has Transformers PJs and Transformer toys. I've also introduced him to The Hub's Transformers Prime. His favorite character? Bumblebee.

And then I think I blew his mind.

I showed him the old Transformers cartoon show from the 80's. His first question: "Where's Bumblebee?" I pointed to the old VW beetle Bumblebee "There he is." I said as a proud parent. My son's first response: "No he's not." He couldn't understand that this Bumblebee was different than the one he knew. This weird, small, talking un-cool-car Bumblebee was, well, Bumblebee.

Things have changed in the last 25 years. The Old Bumblebee was a wisecracking friend of Spike who was faithful and true but also a VeeDub Bug. He also lacked confidence and his first response was to always whisk Spike and the other humans off to safety.

The new Bumblebee is different. He can't talk (his voice processing unit malfunctioned and Ratchet can't fix him with the primitive tools we have on Earth.) Only his friends and fellow fighters can understand him.

He's also a warrior and a scout. He's a fighter. He's a tough-kick-but-take-name's-later fighter. He is confident and is willing to head into battle even when he's had his knees broke. To tell the truth, I wouldn't want to be on the business end of him any day. No way. No how.

One thing Bumblebee now and Bumblebee then do have in common is that they are faithful and loyal. He is loyal to his friends, he faithful to Optimus Prime.

To be honest, Bumblebee has grown up. He is now a warrior. He is truly a relfection on what it means to be a dude now a days. Strong, loyal, faithful to friends, willing to fight but is only understood by those who know him and fight beside him. Other than that, he's alone.

It's hard to be a guy today. We're supposed to be strong yet sensitive, rugged yet metro, work hard yet be supportive, a nice guy but also a bad boy. We're supposed to be neutered warriors without anyone to fight.

We need a battle to fight. And if we don't have a good solid reason to fight a battle, then we fight for no reason.

I choose to fight. I choose to fight for God. To be a prayer warrior. To stand firm against hatred, lack of grace, abuse, pain and otherwise un-niceness. And I want to teach my son to do the same.

How can you be a warrior fighting the good fight?

That blasted cat in the cradle song

My 5 year-old son has been begging me for some "boy time." Just time with him and daddy. And I so want to. I really do. But I've been busy. Real busy. Since my wife's car accident, I've been trying hard to do double duty. I hardly have enough time to go to the gym. And I struggle with it. I so want to spend time with my son. And I know he desperately wants to spend time with me. Even coming into my office, grabbing my arm and pleading with me to do something with him. To help him ride his bike, to play lightsabers with him, to race Hot Wheels, something.

Then, the other day, he wanted to play. I was busy. He started playing with a neighbor boy. And then he and the neighbor boy went to play. As I watched my son walk down the street, he kept looking back at me with a smile that said he was afraid of going away from me but excited to play with a new friend. As he walked away, the song The Cats in the Cradle started playing in my mind (not the one from the 60's but Ugly Kid Joe's version)



Yesterday again, he wanted boy time. So, he and I cleaned up the kitchen. He helped unload the dishwasher and helped wipe off the kitchen table. We then split an apple fritter. I sat there, with my coffee and my half of the fritter and we talked, at least, the best type of conversation a dad can have with his 5 year-old.

During our conversation, he told me how it was interesting that a his skin moved by his eyes when he chewed. I told him it was his muscles in his face moving. "Muscles?" his eyes lit up. So we went on Google and looked up facial muscles. He wanted to know more. So I pulled out Strength Training Anatomy by Frederic Delavier and showed my son the other muscles in the body. He was enthralled. I showed him the different muscles in the body, how the moved, how they worked. It was the most amazing thing to him. A whole new way of looking at things.

Part of my health journey, and part of his as well, is that we are healthy emotionally. That healthy emotional father/son bond that's so needed for him (and I know for me). That father/son bond that helps my son know what it means to be accepted, valued and most of all to be a man of God. And I so want to teach my son how to be a good solid man of God, a devout follower of Jesus Christ. And I know I'm going to fail, I know it's going to be hard. But I'm trying to teach him and show him what's important in life. I'm trying to help develop his own interests whether he's growin up geek or falls in love with rebuilding cars (maybe he can work on my pick-up).

Whatever he chooses, I'll support him. I just hope he remembers and cherishes what "boy time" we do have together like I do.

Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi

One thing I've learned: Kids don't come with an instruction manual. When my son was born, I looked at the doctor and said "Are the instructions in there as well?" Neither he nor my wife found that all too funny. I think I was actually being serious. There's nothing in this world that could have prepared me for being a parent.

I was always told in high school that algebra would be useful when I grew up. Algebra doesn't tell you how to hold your ground when you're son refuses to eat one mandarin orange slice. Algebra never taught me to resist the urge to go all Mad Max and the Thurnderdome on my kids, throwing them in the basement, two will enter, one will leave. And telling them to go to their room until their 18 doesn't work all to well either.

And no matter how many books you find, algebra doesn't prepare you for potty training. Worst than that, it doesn't prepare you to deal with people who are perfect parents and remind you of such as they give you advice after advice after advice of how to raise your kids such as doing potty training. Sorry, but I'm not about to let my daughter run around the house naked to get used to going potty. I really don't want to clean that all up.

What I never could figure out is how come my two kids can be at each others throats one minute--pushing and fighting and arguing--then getting along and being good to each other the next. And then after that, they're way too quiet conspiring to take over the world! No, seriously, I think my son said that and then added that evil scientist laugh (muwhahahahaha) afterward.

I was told that my kids would have different personalities. What I wasn't told was that they would have different personalities but both very similar to mine. My daughter is strong willed, obstinate and cunning--I don't think even duct tape can keep her at bay. My son is silver tongued, can haggle like you wouldn't believe, nice, gentle and can throw a temper tantrum like you wouldn't believe. Yeah, these are my kids.

I've always wanted like a spiritual mentor. Someone who could help me be a good father, one who modles Christ to my kids. One who shows my kids what it means to be a Godly person, a Godly man, a man who loves Jesus. And I work hard on it. And my kids (much like the snow blower) has been teaching me to be more Christlike. Because unlike that blasted snow blower (which has been taken into the John Deere shop for now, thank goodness)my kids can and WILL repeat what I say.

Why can't I have an Obi-wan Kenobi of parenting to come in and teach me the Jedi mind trick that gets my son to eat his veggies and fruit? Why can't I get the help of an Obi-Wan Kenobi who can help me reach out with the force and get my daughter to stop jumping off the couch like it's a high dive at the pool. Of course, Obi-Wan did raise Anikan after all. One of my favorite lines from Star Wars: Attack of the Clones was after flying through Corisant traffic, Obi-Wan and Anikan come to a restaurant. Obi-Wan is addressing the driving skills of his padiwan saying "I fear someday you will be the death of me." Oh, how prophetic. He raised Anikan who became Darth Vader who killed Obi-Wan in the Death Star in Star Wars: A New Hope. Maybe I shouldn't have him for parenting advice after all.

So, but by the grace of God, go I in parenting..Lord help me be Christ to my kids...please..and if you're trying to teach me something.. uncle