Sunday

“Do it right the first time.” My dad ingrained that into me. Whenever we were asked to do something around the house, my dad would inspect our work. If it was done half ass, we would get the: “Do it again” rant, followed by: “Next time, do it right the first time.” Now I think about that all the time at work and in my personal life.

On Friday someone mentioned Father’s Day, and I thought: “Oh right, Father’s Day is Sunday. I guess I should think about that.” On Sunday we did what my dad probably did many, many Sundays: yard work. My dad was a contractor, he fixed, remodeled, and built homes. What that often meant for his family? We were like the cobbler’s kids without shoes, our house was often run down, at least the interior. I remember rips in carpets, a floor infested with termites, a leak in a ceiling in the dining room, walls that needed to be painted, the list goes on. I think my dad was exhausted from fixing other people’s homes. Or, maybe it was too costly to fix the different areas that needed repairs.

You might think, wow, Tami, this is a post about your dad, and Father’s Day was yesterday. You suck as a daughter, but let me tell you, life with a father has its good days and its bad days. While I have many memories of the inside of our home, our yard was my dad (and mom’s) pride and joy. It was always in tip-top shape. My parents worked for hours and hours each week to weed, water, plant flowers, and keep a vegetable garden in the back. They landscaped, arranged rocked, and pruned trees. If you drove by our house, you might think what a nice looking yard, and it was.

Now that I have a yard of my own, I understand how exhausting it is to keep it up, (and I do not have 3 kids to help either). I also know how rewarding it is, to sit outside and enjoy the fruits of the many hours of labor. There is an appreciation for all you have done. I hope my dad felt the same way, and looked at our yard with pride. Looking back I can see how “doing it right the first time” has weaved its way into the inside and outside of my house. I often approach a project with Chris and plan out how we might do something so we do not cut corners and have to do it again. It is not always flawless, but we try.

Last night, Chris and I sat outside with a drink, put our feet up, and admired the landscape. Miss you, Dad.

I ponder questions about my future as a mom. I often wonder with my tendency to be blunt all the time, will I decide to tell my kids that there is a Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, or Santa Claus? What is the right thing to do? On one hand there is fantasy and fun surrounding these mythical stories, but what does it teach kids if they learn that we have been lying to them all these years?

I suppose from a tier of importance, Santa Claus has the most weight. If he is capable of bringing every child around the world a gift all in one night, while riding a sleigh, and going down any houses with chimneys, well that is not a loaded lie! Oh, and about the chimney, the man is fat. And, he has a reindeer with a red light at the end of his nose. How many lies has that added up? 5 so far. I am sure if we really looked at the story, we could count many more.

The Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy carry much less weight from the lie factory. For Easter, the bunny hides eggs. That does not seem so far-fetched. Bunnies dig holes, it could be possible. Was the Easter Bunny a boy or a girl? I am not sure I ever learned where the Easter Bunny comes from, and I do not think I learned how the Easter Bunny was connected to the resurrection of Jesus. Probably did not matter, because all I remembered about Easter was wearing a hideous “Easter” dress from my grandma, going to church, having brunch, and finding our easter basket. A regular Sunday, except for more candy, and a poopy Sunday dress.

Now the Tooth Fairy. I assumed the Tooth Fairy was a girl, probably out of the process of elimination that a fairy was never a boy when I was a kid. I had a hand-me-down tooth pillow, that I put under my pillow when I lost my tooth. I never found it odd that the Tooth Fairy had to lift my head to get the pillow, remove the tooth, and leave my half-dollar, all without my waking up. I have heard very different accounts of what friends received for a tooth, but we got 50 cents in the fancy form of a half-dollar. Calculating that I have 28 teeth, not counting the four wisdom teeth pulled a few years ago (I know everyone might have different amounts), that equals $14 on me. Of the three fictional characters I would say the Tooth Fairy wins. Over the course of a few years of my life, they only spent $14. If there is only one Tooth Fairy, then how come other kids received $20 a tooth (about $560 total). Does the Tooth Fairy play favorites?

I digress. I started this blog to discuss whether to lie to my future children or not. The verdict is still out. I know I sound like a heartless future mom, but I have strong beliefs about not lying to my children. I wonder if I can find a way to go along with the charade, while also telling them the truth. Tell them it is make believe and we can play along together.

What do you think?