A Middle-Aged Daddy Rap

This June parentStrategy Newsletter is the 10th parentStrategy Newsletter. I am celebrating the 10th edition by sharing my parent experience through an entirely different medium- a rap. I would also like to thank all my subscribers. parentStrategy.com has received over 2100 hits! Please continue to send me your thoughts and ideas. Finally, I hope everybody has a safe and wonderful summer, Happy Father’s Day, and a warm hug and giant kiss to my Dad who is celebrating his 80th birthday this month. As Monty Python used to say, “And now for something completely different!”

parenting, it’s a crazy thing. 1 day i’m beamin’, the next day i’m steamin’.

it’s a mind trap; this is my middle age daddy rap.

who would’ve thought? who would’ve wondered?

full of dreams, mental extremes, baseball stars and ballerinas, sleepless nights and stupid fights.

full of wishes, so delicious, precious peace and peaceful prayers.

my children stomp, they romp their feet on my heart, right from the start. it’s a heart bleed, it’s a fantasy squeeze through a kaleidoscope of hope. i visualize and realize. through my eyes…

infancy is like a reformulated alice in wonderland odyssey, bright moments and never-ending smelly diapers, wearing animal slippers, breast-feeding and tooth-teething, baby carriages and sunday car rides. watching them sleeping. making sure their hearts beating…

toddler times are colored balloons and cartoons. tommy tuba and sesame street. pirouettes and make believe pets. silly idiosyncrasies, discovering the world’s mysteries. beautiful imperfections and separation anxiety. an apple juice variety. asking why daddy? why daddy? do wah why daddy? do wah diddy do…

childhood is a welcome back to reality. a restored sanity. a renewed privacy. a revisit to the explicit. games have rules again. my girls with sweet curls racking fallen leaves from autumn trees. selling lemonade curbside. relationships and potato chips. a world exists outside of our family’s grocery lists…

teenage years bring back my tears, heighten my fears, and make me take a good look in the mirror. i question what i see. i question what i hear. if independence needs guidance, then guidance must set you free. if risk requires trust, then trust implies being truthful. simple truths and complicated truths. half truths and perceived truths. white lies and alibis. human equations covered with abrasions. i take a soulful mindful breathe of fresh air…

i’m peeking through the looking glass watching specs of silver sand drip from the hour glass- seconds stall and minutes melt- it’s a mirage, time dressed in camouflage.

my past and their future meld seamlessly together reminding me of my parents. my kids, my parents juxtaposed, totally exposed in my mind’s eye.

a 3-d snapshot bearing the silhouette of time.

now i’m riding the country fair merry-go-round, going in circles and working miracles.

eating cotton candy, believing everything is dandy, worrying about humanity and then i’m riding bumper cars and creating family scars.

i have some car insurance, but no real assurance other than my leap to faith that when i fall flat on my face you’ll lend me your hand and help me up again and again.

my parenting preamble, my midnight ramble, my daily internal – chatter, a private song i sing.

i hope my kids aren’t listening.