eBert
“I know that when my Dad feels better he is really going to want to see me.”
I turn away from the kitchen sink, holding a dirty plate,
“I’m sure he will buddy, it just takes time to heal…”
Ethan gives an a careless laugh, not breaking his attention away from the Lego Star wars ship he is building.
“Yeah, cause, I sure bet that if I broke my tailbone, that would HuurrUURRTT!”
We share a forced laugh over this.
I wait to see if he will keep talking, but nothing is said.
I debate on whether or not to try and say something reassuring, I can’t really think of anything.
We both know that if BD wanted to see Ethan he would. Still, there has not been so much as a phone call in weeks.
The last excuse for not picking him up was a broken tailbone.
Yet he was going to work.
“Mom?”
Ethan’s ever maturing voice breaks through my thoughts,
“Yuppers?”
“If I want to, can we call my Dad?”
“Sure, anytime. Just let me know when – The only thing is that he might not answer the phone if he is working.”
“Yeah. Working. Cause he works a lot. If he didn’t work a lot, then he would want to see me.”
“Of course he would baby, he misses you all the time I’m sure”
Ethan looks up at me from the table,
“I love you Mommy.”
And with that he jumps up and hugs me.
I get a lot of that lately.
Not sure why, but it happens even more when Ethan is missing his Dad.
A man he doesn’t know.
He keeps a lot of it inside, maybe because he doesn’t know what it is he feels.
Someone told me that emotions are scary and confusing for children.
I think this is so true.
I notice more odd behavior in Ethan during times like these than any other.
It wasn’t long ago he did not want to see his Dad at all, he begged me not to make him go over to his Dad’s house on Christmas afternoon.
It ended up that Ethan only saw him for a few hours and then happily came home.
Actually, he has not seen him since.
BD gets angry when his boy doesn’t want to see him, but fails to understand why a relationship based on 2 visits or less a month and no phone calls warrants that.
“Mommy.”
“Yes Ethan.”
“Can we ask hankBert to read two Chapters out of Winnie the Pooh tonight?”
“Hmmmmmm…..” I smile wryly and Ethan wiggles in his seat,
“Oh pleassssseeeee???”
‘hankBert’ is the name that Ethan gave to Hank in lue of Hank or Mr.Hank or Step-Dad.
It came off a nickname I gave to Ethan when he was a toddler, eBert.
When Ethan was trying to figure out something to call Hank, one day hankBert came out and it just stuck, also he often calls me momBert, and we call him eBert and so we are...
The Bert Family.
Or just The Berts as we like to call ourselves.
Children are amazing in that way.
Since Ethan could not be a Champion, he made us conform to him – We have common ground.
Our own name.
It’s really very sweet and I love that he came up with it on his own.
“momBert.”
“Yeeeesssss?”
“So about those 2 Chapters…..”
“I dunno eBert, you better be on extra good behavior when hankBert gets home, maybe he will consider it.”
Ethan picks up his Legos and smiles in the sweet and innocent way that children do,
“I think he may do it for another reason Mommy, and you know what it is.”
“I do? What?”
“Cause he loves me a whole awful lot.”
“Oh yes. That.”
I turn away from the kitchen sink, holding a dirty plate,
“I’m sure he will buddy, it just takes time to heal…”
Ethan gives an a careless laugh, not breaking his attention away from the Lego Star wars ship he is building.
“Yeah, cause, I sure bet that if I broke my tailbone, that would HuurrUURRTT!”
We share a forced laugh over this.
I wait to see if he will keep talking, but nothing is said.
I debate on whether or not to try and say something reassuring, I can’t really think of anything.
We both know that if BD wanted to see Ethan he would. Still, there has not been so much as a phone call in weeks.
The last excuse for not picking him up was a broken tailbone.
Yet he was going to work.
“Mom?”
Ethan’s ever maturing voice breaks through my thoughts,
“Yuppers?”
“If I want to, can we call my Dad?”
“Sure, anytime. Just let me know when – The only thing is that he might not answer the phone if he is working.”
“Yeah. Working. Cause he works a lot. If he didn’t work a lot, then he would want to see me.”
“Of course he would baby, he misses you all the time I’m sure”
Ethan looks up at me from the table,
“I love you Mommy.”
And with that he jumps up and hugs me.
I get a lot of that lately.
Not sure why, but it happens even more when Ethan is missing his Dad.
A man he doesn’t know.
He keeps a lot of it inside, maybe because he doesn’t know what it is he feels.
Someone told me that emotions are scary and confusing for children.
I think this is so true.
I notice more odd behavior in Ethan during times like these than any other.
It wasn’t long ago he did not want to see his Dad at all, he begged me not to make him go over to his Dad’s house on Christmas afternoon.
It ended up that Ethan only saw him for a few hours and then happily came home.
Actually, he has not seen him since.
BD gets angry when his boy doesn’t want to see him, but fails to understand why a relationship based on 2 visits or less a month and no phone calls warrants that.
“Mommy.”
“Yes Ethan.”
“Can we ask hankBert to read two Chapters out of Winnie the Pooh tonight?”
“Hmmmmmm…..” I smile wryly and Ethan wiggles in his seat,
“Oh pleassssseeeee???”
‘hankBert’ is the name that Ethan gave to Hank in lue of Hank or Mr.Hank or Step-Dad.
It came off a nickname I gave to Ethan when he was a toddler, eBert.
When Ethan was trying to figure out something to call Hank, one day hankBert came out and it just stuck, also he often calls me momBert, and we call him eBert and so we are...
The Bert Family.
Or just The Berts as we like to call ourselves.
Children are amazing in that way.
Since Ethan could not be a Champion, he made us conform to him – We have common ground.
Our own name.
It’s really very sweet and I love that he came up with it on his own.
“momBert.”
“Yeeeesssss?”
“So about those 2 Chapters…..”
“I dunno eBert, you better be on extra good behavior when hankBert gets home, maybe he will consider it.”
Ethan picks up his Legos and smiles in the sweet and innocent way that children do,
“I think he may do it for another reason Mommy, and you know what it is.”
“I do? What?”
“Cause he loves me a whole awful lot.”
“Oh yes. That.”
posted by Megan Champion at
5:15 PM
4 Comments:
Hi Megan,
It's Hank's friend, Jamie. I had to post a comment and tell you how much I understand about what you are going through with Ethan and the situation with his father. Hank has probably told you that I've been there, done that. My daughter was 6 when her dad left, and now that she is 22, he is still (in her words) "sketchy." I agonized as you do at the pain these men inflict on their children. It was hard to cope with my anger towards him at times, though I tried my best to conceal it from Amanda, as I knew it would only makes things worse for her.
There is no easy way to deal with this, other than to love them with all your heart, as I know you do, and to let them know that they are not responsible for their father's behavior, and that they are worthy of all the love in the world. And of course, having other responsible, loving men in their lives is a blessing. You have Hank, and that is a wonderful thing for Ethan, as I'm sure you know. Amanda had her two grandfathers, who were very devoted to her. I tried to help her focus on what she DID have, rather than what she didn't. And counseling helped as well.
I wish you and Ethan were not going through this. I really hate it for both of you.
Hope to see you and Hank again soon!
Jamie
I haven't been reading you for a while because I somehow lost the link and forgot, frankly, what you changed the blog's title to. To find it I had to go to MySpace; and for me that's like going to no-Novocaine tooth canal.
Your writing gets better and better all the time. As for this post...
I'm sorry, but these men and NOT men and they suck. But at least you don't have to use Daisy's excuse of "his phone is off and we can't reach him." The "Property of the State of Utah" t-shirt wouldn't be too well understood, you see.
Her eldest isn't too far away from being as able as the rest of us to tap that Google button, and what he/they are going to find is going to demand a lot more explaining that what she/we can get away with at the moment.
That particular mom even visibly bristles when I use or the schoolwork requires use of their last name. Nice.
I call, Skype, text and email my kids on a regular basis and I still feel like a worthless, absent and irrelevant shit. I send that support check every month before I even pay the rent and I still see myself as a miserably failed father. So I can only wonder how these "men" can live with themselves.
It boggles the mind.
Now THAT would be a topic for a book. Getting inside the minds of these people. It would be fascinating to gain some insight into why some people--men and occasionally women too--are gripped by at least mild self loathing when they're behind on the laundry, while others manage to live happy, light and for all appearances guilt-free lives without so much as calling, let alone seeing or supporting the children they've brought into this world.
The south has no monopoly on this particular form of irresponsible and downright antisocial behavior, yet you and I both know it's especially prevalent down here and sometimes M?
Sometimes I think my guys should have finished your guys off to the man at Gettysburg, when we had the chance.
Other than that have a Nice Day!
Jamie,
Your daughter seems wonderful! Hank has told me so much about her, he has told me what a fabulous job you did in the absence of her Dad.
Hank IS a huge blessing, and really fills a void in Ethan’s life – but there is still another spot for his real Dad left.
Oddly enough, His Dad ended up seeing him the Saturday following my post. I would say that he read it, only he doesn’t have enough couth to keep knowledge of my blog to himself and would rather use choice words to give me his opinion ;-)
Any hoo, we hope to see you guys again soon too!
illuminaught,
I hear you loud and clear! Unfortunately, there are women and men round the world who raise their children all the while scratching their heads and pondering ‘why’ the absent parent behaves the way they do.
All we are left with is to just do all we can to love them and be the best parents we know how.
And lie.
For the kids sake.
Till they are old enough to figure it out for themselves.
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