Super Hero Day

To my son Tommy,

We decided to send you back to school today, with a bunch of caveats. No running. No PE. Relaxing during recess. Etc. We will see how you fair.

It is also Super Hero day at St Agnes School. Donations are being collected for your school to help a family in need with their medical bills. In turn, you kids can dress up in a super hero outfit. You couldn't choose, so you are going as a combined hero...super spider man. We tried to get you to pick one or the other, but sometimes you just have to pick your battles. Of course once we settled on the dual personality hero, you suggested that maybe you should be a priest for superhero day. After I explained that we didn't have a priest outfit, and reminded you that a priest wouldn't wear a teenage mutant ninja turtle mask, you decided to keep your current outfit. I do like that your idea of a superhero extends to priests and other non traditional super hero stereotypes. And Lord knows we need all kinds of superheros in Baltimore these days.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Parenting Lessons

To my son Tommy,

T: "You're a good daddy."
Me: "Thanks. You are a good son. But would you mind..."
T: (impatiently interrupting) "How did you become such a good dad?"
Me: "Well I must have learned it from watching your grandpa be a good dad to me. The rest I just picked up as time went on or got lucky with I guess. Now, would you mind...."
T: "You didn't read it in a 'construction' book or something?"
Me: "Tommy, I learned more about parenthood from conversations like these than I ever learned from an instruction book, or parenting magazine, or blog."
T: "I am glad we had this conversation daddy!"
Me: "Me too Tommy. Me too. Now...would you mind leaving the bathroom and closing the door to give daddy a little privacy while he goes poops?"
T: "Sure thing"

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Crisis Management

To my son Tommy,

The trick to dealing with a crisis is to pretend there is no crisis. If you downgrade everything to urgent and deal with each thing you can in a calm and collected fashion, you will breeze through the challenges of life. I used to be good at that. I used to be able to roll with the punches and just deal with whatever was thrown at me in a "nonchalant, oh well, baby steps" type way. Nothing really concerned me.

Nowadays, after dealing with what I consider to be more than our fair share of ongoing crises over the past couple years, even the smallest things can seem daunting. Not that the current crisis is anything to be scoffed at (you having pneumonia is fairly serious) but before when something like this arose, we would just take it in stride. As a singular incident, fairly easy to deal with. We would just deal with the around the clock nebulizer treatments and the extra meds and the promise of little sleep and increased concern. We could even shake off the insurance company screwing us by not covering the cost of the antibiotic that you need. Now, every event just seems overwhelming.

To be honest though, even normally happy events can be a crisis nowadays. Your Grandpa Leo went out with your Great Uncle Kevin and bought a new grill for his house the other day. They got it on the truck with the help of the sales associate, but when they got it home, they couldn't get it off the truck. Your Grandpa Leo shouldn't even be trying such tasks, but he is a stubborn Irishman like his father, and his son, and even his grandson. Anyways, he started worrying about leaving the grill on the back of the truck and that, coupled with whatever strenuous attempt at getting the grill off, started to send him into seizures. Your grandpa called us and then went and laid down and got his seizures to subside. We left Ryan's first communion party, came over and helped get the grill off the truck and we had burgers from the new grill that night. Well, you didn't have burgers because you are allergic to beef and that would have sent us to the hospital much earlier, but the rest of us enjoyed the new grille's cooking.

The point though is even getting a new grill, which would be cause for fun and celebration, can become a crisis. That is why I, until things settle down, I have pretty much cleared my schedule of any extra curricular events or commitments or responsibilities. I just focus on the most essential things and only at the last minute, if it seems like we can get away with it, do we attend those fun extras. I can't even consider giving any effort to addressing or worrying about all the real woes of society that are affecting our country and state and city right now, and frankly, in Baltimore, things are getting intense. It may sound a bit desperate, and we are managing better than I let on, but it is pretty much all we can do to manage the day to day living of ourselves without adding any additional crises than the ones that are real and present.

So for now, we will just pretend there is no crisis. We will treat your pneumonia like it is just something we have to do and just get it done. Remember, you can choose what you let become a crisis. Right now, you are amazing at that and just seem to accept whatever comes our way. You are sitting on the couch, getting a neb treatment, playing your ipad, as if everything is normal, and the only thing you think is different or extraordinary is the new neb mask you got from the hospital. This is a great attitude to have, and means your mom and I are doing pretty good at not letting you realize that there really is a lot going on and this is not normal. Some day you will read this and think, holy crap, how did we get through it all. I don't know about you but I got through it with hugs from you and prayers to God (plus denial and whisky always helps, I kid I kid).

Anyways, more later, maybe. We are probably headed back to the hospital soon as your O2 level is dropping again (even though you just finished a neb treatment) and we most likely will be admitted for at least night. The only reason they let you come home before I think was because Mommy is a nurse and can handle it here. Oh well. Your mom just said that you got your oxygen level back up a bit so now we are in a wait and see mode. Repeat after me, "This is not a crisis, this is not a crisis, this is not a crisis."

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

Secret Criminal Activity

To my son Tommy,

The key to keeping a secret, especially the secret of a possible crime, is to not tell anyone. It is like the movie Usual Suspects says, "The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he doesn't exist." Too often the downfall of so many would-be criminal master minds is they decide to confide in someone else. Perhaps it is ego. Perhaps it is the natural instinct to unburden your soul. Whatever reason, once someone else knows, the possibility of getting away with said crime decreases exponentially and almost makes being found out inevitable. You are not a criminal mastermind, or at least not yet.

Lately, you have been having a tough time of it with your asthma, or perhaps allergies, or perhaps a cold, or the weather, or whatever is causing your cough. You wake up at all hours of the night with this hard cough and we (and by we I mean usually your mom) have to wake up and treat you with an array of nebulizer masks and inhalers and allergy meds and such. Last night, or more accurately this morning, was one of those events.

Your mom and you came downstairs to do your neb mask. After the mask treatment. you guys were cuddling and sleeping down on the couch. After awhile, you told your mom you were going back up stairs to sleep in your bed. You went upstairs alright, but you never made it to your bed.

When I woke up, you were excited to tell me of your 'crime'. As soon as my foot hit the floor beside my bed, you came running in.

T: "Oh daddy, I didn't know you were up."
Me: (some type of guttural response)
T: "You just woke me up from sleeping on my dinosaur!"
Me:
T: "I was just sleeping with my dinosaur, on the floor!"
Me:
T: "I had told mommy I was going to bed, but I didn't. I just slept on my dinosaur!"
Me:
T: "It's crazy! I was supposed to be in the bed, but I didn't. I slept on my dinosaur! Now don't get me in trouble with Mommy!"
Me: "Okay"
T: "Really. Don't get me in trouble with Mommy, because I told her I was going to bed and I didn't. I slept on the floor, with my dinosaur!"
Me: "I need a shower."

Your infraction was petty crime at worst. I suppose I should be upset with your wanton disregard for doing something other than what you told your mom you were going to, but I can't. I do things 'differently' all the time and I can relate with not wanting to be in trouble with Mommy. In the song Son Of A Son Of A Sailor there is a lyrical line that says "Read dozens of books about heroes and crook, and I learned much from both of their styles." That is a nice wrap up of the Downey perspective with regards to authority and rules. If you said you were going up to 'bed' and en route you decided that this morning your bed would be a dinosaur, although not letter of the law to your word, so be it.

But if you want to make sure your dad won't get you in trouble with your mom for something, don't tell him. For he might tell your mom, as your old man hates secrets, especially keeping them from the woman he loves. Or he might just blog about it and tell the world.

Me: "Aaah" (as I stepped out of the shower and the moment my foot hit the bathroom floor)
T: "Oh daddy, I didn't know you were out of the shower."
Me: (slightly startled and grabbing for a towel, thinking "I got to get you a bell or something")
T: "When you are done drying off I want to show you something!"
Me:
T:
Me: (drying off and thinking, "Is it too early for beer?")
T: "It is the dinosaur, in my room, I slept on him, instead of the bed, like I told Mommy, so you have to promise not to get me in trouble with Mommy!"
Me: "Okay"

Sincerely with love from your  dad,
Leo

What Could Go Wrong

To my son Tommy,

Last night, I went to bed. Going to bed is one of my favorite joys in life, because with everything going on, with all the problems in our world, I somehow can still sleep, or at least usually. And what could go wrong going to bed?

I readied myself. I even said our nightly prayers though you are down the ocean with your Bwama. I put on my cpap mask. I laid down in bed. BOOM! The frame of the bed busted. Realizing almost instantly what had happened, tears started coming to my eyes. Are you kidding me? I was just going to bed. Can't that even go well for me? Am I that fat? Is Someone up there laughing at me saying, "Leo had too nice of a night. Delicious dinner with the Mrs. followed by some quality time with her, and even some snuggling. Watch this! 'Into each life some rain must fall,' Or if not rain, some frame. Hehe!" as they issue the command to the universe for 3 of the 4 screws on that part of the bed frame to simultaneously tear through the wood.

Your mom called up immediately asking if I was okay. She came up to help me fix everything. Like I said before, when things go wrong, sometimes I revert to anger to keep my other emotions in check. I usually feel the anger justified but that is just not right. Your mom called me on the uncontrolled anger right away, and rightfully so. I was not going to make the situation better by throwing mattresses and boxsprings around. God, I love her.

After things returned to normal, mostly due to your mom, and before I readied myself for bed, I went in and weighed myself. I still need to lose weight but I was nowhere near my high. I guess the stress of dealing with my top weight for a good long while was enough for the bed. Oh well, back on the diet and off to the hardware store to find stronger and longer screws.

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

The Toothless Detective

To my son Tommy,

To be certain, Christ's Resurrection is the reason we celebrate today. It is easy to lose that perspective with everything that goes on, from Easter egg hunts and bunnies and peeps and hams and family get together. You can even throw in the fact that you lost your first tooth today, and when I say lost, that means you got tired of wiggling that tooth and pulled it yourself. Ouch. Well at least that is one of the shark teeth fixed with only one left to go.

You had plans on pulling that tooth last night, some grandiose plan that the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny needed to meet up. But in all your planning and scheming, your little neurons were firing and coming up with some questions and suspicions. And of course, being the daddy, it fell to me to set you straight and allay your suspicions.

6 year old: Why does the Easter Bunny and everyone like him come only at night while I am sleeping?

Me:
6 year old:

Me: Autographs and selfies. If he came during the day everyone would want autographs and selfies. He doesn't have time for that. Very busy you know.

6 year old:
Me:

6 year old: Yeah, that makes sense.

You are getting too smart for your own good. Stay young and stop growing! I would say you would make a fine future detective, but your abilities only seem to extend to the mental and abstract, because it took you way too long to find your Easter basket. It was hidden in a partially opened oven and even after a game of hot and cold with a clue like "You are so hot you're burning like you were IN AN OVEN!" it still took you a couple minutes to figure it out.

But to be certain, even during all these distractions and excitements, Easter still remains about the ultimate sacrifice and His Resurrection.  Remember Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me will live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in Me will never die.” (John 11:25-26), Happy Easter!

Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo

No Evidence

To my son Tommy,

You had a nightmare last night. You came in to sleep with us. Less than a minute before this picture was taken, you were in a classic "it is not easy to sleep with a kid in the bed" position. Your hand was a splayed across your mom's face and your foot was in the center of my back. Since you sought sanctuary in our bed from your nightmare, it was like your mission to make at least your old man uncomfortable. A foot here, a head there, a punch to the kidneys, a slap to the face, a push to the edge of the bed, etc. Alas, obtaining photographic evidence of how difficult it is to have you in our bed is on par with a picture of Bigfoot or the Loch Ness monster. As soon as I had enough and got out of bed to snap this picture, you adjusted to the most heavenly position.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

Sour Notes

To my son Tommy,

It is no secret that your mom sings better than your old man, but I am not referring to music when I talk about my sour note today. Some days, especially when your mom has to wake up at the crack of dawn for clinical training, married couples are forced to talk using notes.

Now some guys might consider a note here and there as nagging. Not me. Unless it is over used, I am fine with it. In fact, before bed time your mom asked if I would remember the cake she made for your school or if she should leave a note. Reconciling my belief that I wouldn't forget and my good intentions and my realization that we can all use a backup system, I said, "Both!" The allergy medicine note was an after thought as it isn't part of the normal routine and she would have had to wake me up to tell me that one. So you see, your mom makes great notes.

Me however, my notes when singing or signing are a bit more sour. I knocked one (or more) of your mom's icing tips

Into the sink. It is little signs like this that tell me I shoul just go back to bed. Oh well.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

Leo

My note

Bunny cake