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| Oh dear, we look dorky here. (Photo credit: Stand Up Ashland) |
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| We look way less dorky with Lauren in the shot. (PC: Stand Up Ashland) |
In short, the day was wonderful; everything we had hoped it would be.
That is precisely why I haven't known what to write about it-- what was there to say?
"I had a great time. The End." Maybe I am not being very creative.
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| (Photo Credit: Stand up Ashland) |
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| (Photo Credit: Stand up Ashland) |
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| (Photo Credit: Stand up Ashland) |
But then Sky and I decided to take the kids out SUPing. We rented just one board and brought our sit-on-top kayak and Sky's surfboard; the idea being we would all switch around to play on the different toys.
This is what I imagined: My kids would try out the SUP board with me one at a time. I would paddle while they stood at the front of the board, smiling endlessly with the sun shining on their shoulders. Then they'd each want to try it out on their own, having become emboldened by how smooth the ride was with me. River would speed away like a little pro and even though the paddle would be enormous for Azure, she would pull it off anyway, making her way around the lake in her pip-squeak sort of way. There may or may not be rainbows involved.
Oh expectations... you are such a little bitch.
Here's what really happened: Paddling a SUP with two people on the board-- even if one is pint-sized -- is a way more tippy endeavor. Not impossible and could still be enjoyable for the paddler, but the wee one at the front felt wobbly. This wobbliness led to much complaining.
My favorite. Especially when I am paying by the hour for the complaining.
So, naturally, the kids wanted to try it on their own. This mostly worked for River, but Azure just got pushed into the shore. She gave up quickly and I took over the SUP again.
By now the wind had picked up, as had the frat boy jet skiers nearby... am I being judgey? Am I being cruel? Yes, yes I am.
Screw you, jet skiers.
Every stroke forward, I'd get pushed one foot back. And the waves were coming at an angle so righting myself against them and staying perpendicular to them was a feat of super humanoid capacity.
So what did I do? Laugh jovially, let the wind push me to shore, and watch the lovely scene of my kids playing with their father in the sunny lake?
Why would I be that level-headed?
No, I gritted my teeth and shoved my paddle into that chop over and over, battling nature to have my way. I was like a comic strip for anger management, all white knuckled tenacity, pushed to shore with each stroke. One step forward, two steps back-- and sideways. And when I hit shore, I just tried to push myself back out again, my feet getting trapped in the deep mud.
"Mom, look at me!" River called.
"No, I can't right now!" I screeched back.
To-do list:
1. Struggle against the forces of nature.
--Check
2. Grow increasingly irritated that my strength was no match for nature's.
--Check
3. Turn into Reactive and Irritated Mom due to inability to stop struggling against forces of nature.
--Check
It was time to call it a day.
I wish I could say I am not familiar with this sort of behavior... we'll call it "being stubborn". I have been my most stubborn with the very person who taught me how to be stubborn: my dad.
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| I am two months old. Dad is 29. |
My dad wasn't around much when I was growing up because he was working and traveling for business so much. Though he and I share some key personality traits (see exhibit A: stubborn), we are mostly polar opposites. He and my mom finally divorced when my brother and I were in high school. Shortly after the divorce, he married a woman who isn't a fan of mine and he either wouldn't or couldn't stand up for me in his relationship with her. I spent years visiting them at holidays and sobbing all the way home. I have written heartfelt letters to him, issued desperate ultimatums, spent three hours at a breakfast restaurant with him trying to explain my hurt and trying to understand his motivations. I have banged my head against the wall of our relationship like an idiot, and spent unimaginable hours trying to wrangle that close dad relationship out of him that I always wanted.
But you know what? That relationship isn't in the cards for me and my dad. And somehow these days I find... that's okay.
I can't tell you exactly when or why this happened-- did I get too tired? did I see his vulnerability as he aged? did I just get more mature?-- but at some point I loosened my grip and just let us be the way we are. I realized that the person I am asking him to be is just not my dad, at least not with me, and that doesn't necessarily mean he loves me any less, it just means he's human and changing is hard even when you want it. I realized, if I wanted to have a relationship with my dad, I had to accept having a relationship with this dad. The one who has trouble remembering my kids' birthdays, the one who took my step-niece to her dad/daughter dance but who didn't come to see me cross the stage to get my college diploma because he had a business meeting, the one who thinks the NPR I listen to is pure liberal blather. He is also the dad that sends me a beautiful bouquet of flowers every year on my birthday, no matter how far away he is. The dad that takes my kids on fun excursions when we visit him. The dad that might have stumbled badly with his first family (he admits this), but has the guts to keep showing up, with his new family and the old.
When I stopped white knuckling my relationship with my dad, when I stopped begging him to show up in my way, I started to genuinely enjoy him. Astoundingly, I could even... perhaps... maybe... love him through it. And indeed I do.
Is everything healed between my dad and I? Hell no. When he dies someday will I still have a hundred unanswered questions for him? Hell yes. But while we have the time, I am now choosing to enjoy the man who shows up in front of me, the one I call dad. The one who brought me dolls when he came back from business trips, the one who hasn't visited my house in seven years. All of that flawed, maddening, doing-the-best-he-can dad of mine. I stopped trying to battle his currents and it pushed me to a much more calm and loving shore.
Maybe someday I'll be able to extend that letting go to paddle boarding with frat boys and the wind. But for now, just dad.
