Adventures Of Fatherhood

Adventures Of Fatherhood
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Halloween is serious business around these parts for many, particularly in Berlin, and my house is no exception, but you wouldn’t know it from my kids.

All they care about is the candy.

They don’t notice the hours of work their mom put into decorating the interior and exterior of the house. They don’t seem interested in the dozen or so skeletons spread out through the house, the spooky sounds coming from a nearby bush or the pumpkins strategically illuminated in some fashion or another.

At least, this disinterest is not isolated to our house. They maintain this oblivious nature while trick-or-treating through the neighborhood as well.

It’s all about the candy to Beckett and Carson, but the Beckett was the one who went way overboard.

At one point, while taking Beckett around the neighborhood, he became obsessed with a new type of candy he had never had previously — Starburst.

By this point, I venture to guess he already had engulfed 10 Reese’s peanut butter cups. There were plenty of oohs and aahs when he realized that some are now made with white chocolate.

As I was taking pictures of all the characters on our block, I couldn’t help but stand back and marvel over my son, who was dressed as a hippie with a black afro, purple scarf, brown leather vest, purple shirt, peace sunglasses and bellbottom jeans.

He was standing on my neighbor’s porch amidst a huge cloud of smoke, generated by a machine nearby. Not only was he unfazed by the smoke and loud sounds nearby, he also had no desire to move out of the way of dozens of trick-or-treaters trying to get to the candy themselves.

After physically removing him from the house, I tried to move him on to the next stop, but all he wanted to do was go back home and eat the candy he had already collected.

When I tried to explain to him, once again, the concept behind trick-or-treating, he had a meltdown that I soon realized was the result of a serious sugar overdose. That’s when I realized it was probably best to just let him sit on our stoop with us and satisfy his cravings one piece of chocolate at a time.

The candy dominated the scene so much so it seemed Beckett woke up in the middle of the night with a stomach ache that led to he and I having some scintillating conversation about how chocolate can wreak havoc on him.

The back and forth took place in a dark bathroom for about an hour between 3 and 4 in the morning.

Although I knew at that point how serious the candy love affair was for him in particular, it was not until the next morning that I truly understood the gravity of it.

That’s when I found about a dozen candy wrappers in his shoes. At least, he didn’t litter.

Beckett wrapped up soccer last weekend in fitting fashion.

As I have mentioned in the past, my 3 ½-year-old is not entirely interested in soccer at this point. There are flashes of excitement and involvement during games, where he actually chases after the ball and makes an effort to kick it, but most of the time he’s more attuned to the social aspect.

He’s much more interested in what his teammates, coaches and parents are doing on the sidelines than actually what’s happening in the game.

Last weekend the outdoor season wrapped up, and each of the kids received a medal from the county as a keepsake. Additionally, Beckett’s coaches, Tonya Lewis and Billy Laird, gave each of the players a special trophy to recognize their participation in the league.

The latter was a wonderful and unexpected gesture. However, consistent with his interest in soccer at this point in his life, Beckett threw a teammate’s trophy across the room, shattering it.

Consequently, I gave his friend Beckett’s trophy and then recovered all the pieces of the destroyed trophy.

Pam is going to try and glue his first trophy all back together, but there’s no question it’s going to be noticeable.

From the glass half-full perspective, at least it’s going to be representative of this particular period in his life and the clear passion he feels for the sport.

The so-called baby of the house, Carson, turns 2 years old tomorrow.

At this point in his life, this birthday means a lot more to us than it does to him.

For him, it will just be another day. Since he has the “I’m just happy to be here” mentality almost all the time, it will be another great day for him.

In advance of his birthday, Pam and I were both asked by prospective gift givers a similar question, “What’s Carson into?”

I think I always said, “anything and everything.”

Pam said she responded with, “balls and trucks and learning tools.”

It’s a tough question when you have a laidback child with a matching mentality and approach to life that’s just adorable to me. He likes everything and is happy to get anything.

I love his way and he, for me, serves as a constant reminder to smell the proverbial roses.

That’s a priceless and ironic gift from a child to a parent, and I’m incredibly grateful for that.

About The Author: Steven Green

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The writer has been with The Dispatch in various capacities since 1995, including serving as editor and publisher since 2004. His previous titles were managing editor, staff writer, sports editor, sales account manager and copy editor. Growing up in Salisbury before moving to Berlin, Green graduated from Worcester Preparatory School in 1993 and graduated from Loyola University Baltimore in 1997 with degrees in Communications (journalism concentration) and Political Science.