Effective parenting necessitates continual assessment and frequent change. I’d like to think I always rise to the occasion but despite my best efforts I often fall flat on my face. These missteps afford me the opportunity to take a long, hard look at myself and make the necessary changes to be a good father, (as well as husband, neighbor, friend, etc). Nowhere is this examination of conscience more evident than in the decision I made to sober up almost six years ago.
I have wrestled with addiction since late adolescence. When a 17-year-old high school kid wonders if he’ll ever be able to spend a Saturday night sober that’s a red flag. When a 21-year-old college senior spends nearly everyday high or drunk that’s a larger red flag. And when a 39-year-old stay-at-home dad, drinking after previously having six years of sobriety, uses his toddler’s nap-time as happy hour, and stashes extra beer in the garage so his wife won’t find it, it is time to WAKE UP!
I had many good reasons to get help for that behavior but one poignant yet funny story illustrates it best. I enjoyed grocery shopping with E when he was a baby. Pushing him around in a grocery cart as he learned the names of the foods was a lot of fun. I must have spent a lot of time in the beer section, though, because one particular day, as I was studying the alcohol content of microbrews, I heard a little voice from the cart singing, “I like bee—yer, I like bee-yer,” over-and-over again. I gave him “the look” but he just smiled, giggled, and continued even louder. Praying that a Child Protective Services worker wasn’t there buying a six-pack (it was 10:00am after all but an alcoholic’s fears are so irrational) I grabbed my beer and quickly moved on. A couple of aisles over, as we passed a very attractive woman in a business suit, he started chanting again but this time about his favorite cereal: “I like Cheerios! I like Cheerios!” Without missing a beat the woman paused, looked at him with a knowing smile, and said, “Yeah, and I hear you like beer, too!” At that she walked away without making eye contact with me.
It was several months later, a few weeks after my father’s death in April 2004, that I finally took action to address my drinking problem. My experience in the grocery store that day was not the motivating force behind my decision to get sober. My emotional & physical health and relationship with D was paramount and I knew where to go for help as I’d done it before. This time around, however, I had additional motivation: there was no way in hell I was ever going allow my children to be raised by a drunk father!
I have wrestled with addiction since late adolescence. When a 17-year-old high school kid wonders if he’ll ever be able to spend a Saturday night sober that’s a red flag. When a 21-year-old college senior spends nearly everyday high or drunk that’s a larger red flag. And when a 39-year-old stay-at-home dad, drinking after previously having six years of sobriety, uses his toddler’s nap-time as happy hour, and stashes extra beer in the garage so his wife won’t find it, it is time to WAKE UP!
I had many good reasons to get help for that behavior but one poignant yet funny story illustrates it best. I enjoyed grocery shopping with E when he was a baby. Pushing him around in a grocery cart as he learned the names of the foods was a lot of fun. I must have spent a lot of time in the beer section, though, because one particular day, as I was studying the alcohol content of microbrews, I heard a little voice from the cart singing, “I like bee—yer, I like bee-yer,” over-and-over again. I gave him “the look” but he just smiled, giggled, and continued even louder. Praying that a Child Protective Services worker wasn’t there buying a six-pack (it was 10:00am after all but an alcoholic’s fears are so irrational) I grabbed my beer and quickly moved on. A couple of aisles over, as we passed a very attractive woman in a business suit, he started chanting again but this time about his favorite cereal: “I like Cheerios! I like Cheerios!” Without missing a beat the woman paused, looked at him with a knowing smile, and said, “Yeah, and I hear you like beer, too!” At that she walked away without making eye contact with me.
It was several months later, a few weeks after my father’s death in April 2004, that I finally took action to address my drinking problem. My experience in the grocery store that day was not the motivating force behind my decision to get sober. My emotional & physical health and relationship with D was paramount and I knew where to go for help as I’d done it before. This time around, however, I had additional motivation: there was no way in hell I was ever going allow my children to be raised by a drunk father!
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