I Wonder How the Lawn Is…

I exist at an interesting place in the grand scheme of things: I’m a single Dad and I own a house, but I’m 28. This just doesn’t work in the scheme of most people’s idea. Even in this more modern world of ideas generally more liberal than they were in prior years, I’m kind of in an odd place. This becomes apparent just about any time I’m out with my kids or I’m out doing something the domesticated world at large considers normal, provided you’re over 30. I think it’s a combination of the two factors, to be honest. I’ve noticed several times whenever I meet some parents and I mention that the kids playing over there are mine, they do a very good diplomatic job of smiling and complimenting me, but, often I can detect that bit they think about saying, something to the effect of “But you’re young enough to be one of my kids!” This is infinitely amusing, but generally happens with those older than me. I meet quite a few parents that are closer to my age range (say only 7-10 years older than I am) who seem to be just fine with all this, but get an odd click when they find out I’m a single Dad. There really aren’t near as many single Dads out there as there are Moms, after all – we men seem statistically more likely to run like hell, perhaps staying in our kids’ lives just enough to make things much worse than if we had left. This generally leaves other kids’ parents with almost an instant respect for me – which feels slightly odd, and some of the girls I meet within my age range to look at me like I’m the greatest guy in the world and I should marry them, which downright scares me. Between the two, I find myself in an odd space.

I finally got a lawnmower this weekend and a bike so that I can get around town and up to the University without the need to spend extra cash on gas or parking. My folks are in town and my daughter Izzy went off to church with them, while my son, who takes on more of the spiritual but not religious classification, stayed with me. We took our bikes out, rode around the neighborhood and out of it, ending up a few miles up the road. He pushed himself for speed and I enjoyed riding along. I taught him about bike safety and traffic rules and all that, laughed with him going up and down hills, then we came home and I took care of the lawn, which, being overgrown was getting to me to a great degree. I think I fit that age range where people get the idea I’m probably not the kids’ brother, so there’s always this funny look (I got it about four times that I can remember today) where they think to themselves Is that their Father? So I sit in this weird in-between spot.

For lack of ability to get out save every other weekend or so, I decided to take some (probably ill-advised) advice and look again on a few of the match sites here and there. Surprisingly, I actually managed to find a few women that didn’t completely scare me – within my age no less who are into the same books, movies and all that, and who have an actual profile that includes a semblance of personality. This does not particularly excite me or anything – I think these sites are crap. I’ve been asked by a number of people withing the last few weeks if I’ve considered dating again, to which I generally explain that what little time I have to myself is generally not occupied by crawling bars or attending whatever awkward singles events might be organized. Then they generally say something about me meeting people when I go back to school, at which point I generally explain that my classroom peers are likely to be late-teenagers who probably aren’t really looking for single dads and, well, I’m actually attempting to do something in school, so I really don’t see it as much of a place to pickup chicks. I’d probably do better if I were to start looking at women in their mid to late thirties, but seriously, no. It’s an odd thing. When I met my last girlfriend, I was already a dad, but I only had my kids here and there and still got out a lot. I had a decent time, but mostly I just didn’t want to sit around the house by myself. Now I really don’t get much time without the kids and I would generally prefer to spend it sitting on the porch reading a book or cranking my guitar among other things.

It’s not really a sympathy vote or anything, it’s more an explanation. I love the time I’ve had with my kids. I draw pictures with my daughter, I ride bikes with my son. I laugh with all the kids who come over to play and, among the kids, I’m something of a novelty – a rare in-betweener close enough to them to seem worth laughing with in a childlike way. I read the kids books and tell them fairy tales and we talk by ourselves over dinner. They tell people I’m the greatest dad in the world, but I didn’t feel that way for a while. Being stuck in the grind I was in last year had me separated from everything I cared about and locked into it. By the beginning of that I was dealing with all of it and trying to adjust to my medication, it was like losing sight of a lot of things at once while feeling somehow like I was taking care of it all. Now, things are better. I sit up at night by myself and read or practice music or simply sit back and listen to it. I hardly do anything with computers anymore beyond the general work of the average end-user and I’m very alright with that. I’ve gotten to the point where I can mess with the computer if it acts up without seeing red.

I let my daughter know I love her and I’m proud of her, but sometimes I don’t think I understand or deal well with her fragility; her femininity. It was one of those things Cassie always cited she couldn’t handle well either, but looking back, she did a wonderful job. Tonight, Izzy was running 101 fever and we all went out to eat, but she wouldn’t drink soda, she only wanted water, which surprised my mom, who asked why – “Sugar makes you more sick,” She replied – something learned directly from Cassie, one of many things – it made me smile. Those years of our lives may be passed on, but it’s always nice to see the effects when the people who slip in and out of our lives leave an impression decidedly positive.

I walk this odd line between mainstream society and the eccentric – I always have. I seem to earn the respect of peers among the parents of my children’s friends easily, I bike around with my son, take the kids to the park, take care of my lawn, clean my house and do domestic things. I sit and play music, I write here and there and I read. It’s a life that continues to astound me – it’s never what I remotely considered ten years ago, perhaps even five. Perhaps the house bears some reflection on it – I’m the last on the street with virtually no neighbors – sort of at the edge of the community.

I went out to see Rae, who was in town this weekend. I met her and a couple of friends (nice girls) up at this hookah lounge just off the square called Natalie’s (I think), which really seemed to be the hip place to be on a Saturday night of you’re an awkward upper-teen. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why people wanted to hang out in this dive (there are better dives in Denton, even for the under-age), but it’s always good to see Rae. They headed off to the Boiler Room so I headed back home. I sat around listening to Jazz and read – a good Saturday night. I suppose I should be out there on the night the kids are out, I am still young enough after all, but the old haunts are gone now or leave me wanting, with too many of those too young talking about things they’ll be laughing about in a few years – a consistent, thick undertone that speaks of monkeys squealing for dominance or to impress a female. It’s a world of betas and it didn’t used to be as bad, Perhaps I’ll find someplace again sometime, but I don’t find too much wrong with a porch and a book or Prairie Home Companion on the radio, followed up by Selected Shorts, where they read you amazing short stories on NPR.

The simplicity of this life often amazes me, as do the overwhelming complexities we place upon it. As Felix sighs, seeing a rant coming after I’ve already filled minutes, I’ll leave you there, I think you can come up with your own. Suffice to say it’s a nice night. There’s Miles Davis on the speakers and a cool breeze coming through the windows.