xo lots of times

I just got buried in good tears. So, let’s write a happy blog for fuck’s sake. My ex-wife has had my kids in Colorado for the last 10 days or so. And I got to see the kids for the first time in a while tonight. oh man did I ever luck out. I got to see this moment from my daughter that I’ll never forget. I already posted it on facebook, but it was the pure joy written all over her face as she sprinted down the hallway yelling that she’d just got her 1000^th subscriber on her youtube channel.

Amazing.

The moment. And the girl. And the channel, really. Oh god and I realized, as more tears are coming now, that the best way to describe her face was totally radiant. It was like a color that was flush with excitement and pride. And the tears are overwhelming me again, because it’s the exact opposite of the flush with embarrassment face that I grew up with. There’s actual evidence that what I’m doing as a dad matters.

And for a fucked up kid like me, it’s overwhelming…like I can’t fucking take it overwhelming…to know that my kids are going to get to do life without those fucked up/embarrassed/unsure of themselves feelings that still plague me.

What got me thinking about this was a comment one of my friends made referencing a fb post I made 6 years ago. (great memory Stacey) I had to search for the post…and it went like this…

“i know this beautiful girl. she is my daughter. i got home 2nite and this is the note i found on my pillow "i love you and will see you tomorrow. xo lots of times. love, riley." holy shit. how does she have those words at age 7? xo lots of times. genius. i wish all of you that look she gives me when she does something great and i recognize it and tell her how awesome she is.”

XO lots of times. Another buddy just recently reference that line as well. And it’s funny, because only a few people fb liked that post. And it had a couple comments, but that is one of those statuses that will always stick with me. And it’s the same thing with the blog. Not very people read it. But, I do it for those who do. And I do it for my kids. I want them to be able to see how much I've always loved them when they read back the realities of what me battling daily for my sanity actually looks like. It’s not about popularity. It’s about the real.

Ha. I interrupt this blog for story time. I’m taking the kids to Chicago tomorrow. And years ago on a trip to Chicago I was forced to have a heart to heart with young riley about my favorite word…real. I 100% thought she was asleep and used some really colorful language in a phone call. She was not asleep. And was pretty shocked the next morning.

So, we talked it out. I explained that it’s the heart of the matter that is most important…the real. I was having a heart to heart on the phone. And in talking some stuff out, I talked like I talk when I’m talking to people my age. We can’t judge people on the language they use, but instead need to listen to their story. we both cried and had the sweetest hug after the chat.

And the next day on that trip riley accused blake of something he didn’t do. And where the shoe of her American girl doll ended up became a huge, real discussion. She had jumped to conclusions. Blake responded aggressively. And riley ended up in tears when she realized she’d been wrong. But, we talked it out and hugged it out and got to reference back to our discussion about daddy fucking up by saying fuck too much (I didn’t put it that way). we all make mistakes. admit fault. get your sorrys in and move on.

the whole thing was beautiful. We were running late to whatever touristy thing we were going to do, but what mattered was getting through our family issue. A lesson in the real. And jumping to conclusions. And listening to people. It was pretty deep shit for kids that young.

And I have to think that it has been moments like that, which led riley to leave me that xo lots of times note. Or like, today, I had the coolest experience at the eye doctor at the Lenexa Costco. The girl at the front was so incredibly nice and smiley. And the doctor just wanted to talk music and was such a great dude. I took a minute in the car ride home to explain to the kids what a big deal that is…to make other people’s lives better by simply being kind. The people at the doctor’s office completely brightened my day.

And then to have riley screaming down the hallway a few hours later. Good lord what a day. And I’m so glad I went back and looked at that facebook post, because the end of it described this look riley still gets when I catch her doing something awesome. It’s like this sheepish laugh…her shoulders come up…and she just has the biggest smile.

Knowing your parent is proud of you. And is your biggest fan. And notices even little things and calls you out on the good stuff. I know it’s meant a lot to her and her brother. heck. Today was so cool with blake too. he just wanted to sit in the living room with me while I was working. He had stories to tell. And we talked baseball and home run derby details.

And there it is. We’re home. The three of us. here come the tears again. My kids want to hang out with me. And they know I’m real. And they know I adore them. And I know they xo me lots of times. I put in the time behind the scenes to keep my head above water via writing. And that frees head space up to be a dad who can be present.

Do I fuck up things all the time as a dad? Of course. And I won’t even know where I’ve hurt them until we’re sitting in therapy together someday and realize I wasn’t hard enough on them or I did too much for them instead of making them do things for themselves. But, per our family tradition, we’ll talk it through.

And the coolest thing to me is that they will have less stuff to fuck with their heads than I did. They’ll never know what it feels like to be me, so they hopefully won’t appreciate how much work it is for me to get through a day. I battle. Every fucking day. But, I battle for them. To make their lives better. To show them…in words and actions…that I xo them lots of times.

And come on man…the embarrassed, unconfident kid that I was somehow raising a happily red faced daughter and son. Oh shit. All the lonely that I feel. All the pain that I carry. All the bull shit of me feeling like I’m not appreciated enough or haven’t gotten what I deserve relationship-wise…what does it fucking matter when the kids are doing well? Single me has a chance. Hell bent on picking the wrong girl me can’t be the dad that the kids need and deserve.

Yeah…I was in fucking tears last night. But, they were way different. I had a wave of lonely kick my ass. And part of that was not seeing the kids for so long, but I think it was mostly wanting companionship. Wanting someone to do life with and be real with.

But, honestly…that’s going to be really hard to find. Because what the kids and I have is amazing. And what I deserve and need is someone capable of adding to the amazing. And I’ve put people in shitty spots before…both the girls I’ve dated and my kids, by rushing things…and the amazing went backwards. I expected too much. And sometimes I have too much sympathy for another fucked up person’s story and not enough recognition how much work it takes to undo that damage or at least manage it.

I had 6 years of therapy and have written most days for the last 8ish years. I battle my past like a mother fucker. And some days I still don’t have what it takes to be a good dad or person. And having someone to pick me up on those days instead of putting me in a hole that keeps me from being the person and dad I want to be.

and honestly i had some shit come up this week that allowed me to find grace for the one that put me in a hole last fall. she self-sabotaged the shit out of her life with me and the kids. but, it was an unfair expectation to think she could live up to what we need. the kids and i are where we need to be. and that's all that matters.

Good lord. Kind of fell of topic there, but I don’t think I’m honest enough about the lonely I feel and that feeling will likely stay with me for quite a while. but, when the kids do read all these blogs back one day, I do want them to know that part of the story. picking lonely is way better than picking the wrong girl. I never, ever feel lonely around the kids. And I know it’s the same with them. That checked out feeling dads can give their kids…like there mind is somewhere else. Kids pick up on that shit. And when I’m in fucked up relationships, I give the kids distracted dad.

But, single matt gets to take the kids to Chicago tomorrow. Back at it again just the three of us in search of fresh stories. we’ll see what I can fuck up this time that we have to have a real, heart to heart about. But, see…what does it matter? life is talking baseball with the boy in the living room. Life is a car ride home from the Costco eye doctor. Life is a note left by a 7 year old girl, foreshadowing the confidence in a 13 year old screaming “one thousand!!!! One thousand!!!! One thousand!!!!” I xo you and your bro that many times kiddo.