THE WEEP FACTOR

I’ve never been much of a crier. Even as a kid I wasn’t the type who would cry when I skinned my knee or got a spanking. As an adult I could probably count the number of times I really cried on one hand, two of which revolved around the unexpected deaths of friends and the other was when I had to put my cat Bob to sleep. But all that changed when I had kids…though technically putting Bob down happened about a month after Arden was born, but at that point Arden was still just this mysterious blob to me.

My lack of crying probably stemmed from my father who I only saw cry twice while growing up, the first was on the anniversary of his brother’s death and the other time was when I left for college. Though now that he’s counting the days until his senior citizen discounts kick in, I catch him welling up when a Pillsbury crescent roll commercial comes on. But now that I’m a parent, I understand why he cried when I left for school and why he cries during a “very special” Oprah promo.

Maybe I’m more sensitive than most guys because I’m my kids’ primary care provider and I spend so much more time with them, but I’m constantly tearing up when I watch anything sentimental on TV or at the movies that involves kids. When Sandra Bullock declares that Big Mike, in The Blind Side, is her son, I found myself getting a little weepy. Hell, I had tears streaming down my face watching the end of Superman Returns when Supe sneaks into his kid’s bedroom and repeats what his father said to him years before, “You will see my life through your eyes, as your life will be seen through mine. The son becomes the father. And the father, the son.”

But I also get “emotional” when my kids are hurting or when I’m proud of them. I experienced both of these types of moments with Arden over the past 24-hours. Arden’s been having a rough couple of weeks since she’s returned to school after Winter Break. She’s been acting out at school and at home. Having lots of meltdowns. And I understand exactly why. She just spent two straight weeks with her Daddy, doing some kind of fun activity every day and now she’s forced to go back to her mundane school routine.

One of her meltdowns happened in the bath last night. Her tantrum was scaring the baby so I had to yank Arden out of the tub, kicking and screaming. She was so hysterical I didn’t know what to do so I just wrapped a towel around her and hugged her. I thought she’d resist. I thought she’d keep fighting, but she just calmed down and hugged me back. She just missed her Daddy. This is also why she’s been so clingy at school since Winter Break ended. She doesn’t want me to leave when I bring her to school in the morning. Every day my departure has become a bigger and bigger production. She wants me to stay longer. She wants more kisses and more hugs and she says she wants to go home with me. But again, I understand, but that don’t mean I’m gonna put up with it. Yesterday I had an appointment and had to cut our little ritual short and she threw the mother of all fits – kicking and screaming as the teachers dragged her away from me. Now you’re probably thinking this is where I got all emotional. Wrong. This is where I said, “Where the hell’s the Arden I know?”  But what did touch me was dropping her off at school today.

Last night we discussed her behavior and I told her that I knew she was acting out because she missed me and made her promise to be good when I dropped her off at school the next morning. Well she kept her word. We got to school, she said, “Good morning” to her teachers, she gave me as kiss and said, “Goodbye.” That was it. No fits, no fanfare. She kept her word. And it made me proud. And it made me well-up a bit on the car ride home.