faulker009

There are certain moments that only a parent can appreciate. The first step. The first day of school. The first time your child talks back to you. There are other moments that only a parent can enjoy. Like being on a packed airplane and watching the panic that mom and dad go through trying to quiet a screaming child. As someone who has been there, done that, I hate to say it, but I love watching other parents scramble to diffuse that situation. And they try everything. Apple juice. Cheerios. Grey Goose. Whatever it takes. But the entire time, the show you get watching the crumbling parents is better than any $8 movie on the plane. There are about 37 million moments I would like to have back in my 13+ years of being a parent. I wish I was more attentive. I wish I was more loving. But most of all I wish I was most patient. I still do. A few days ago I was at my 11-year old son’s football practice. It was being held at a GIANT complex, where at least ten other teams were practicing at the...

As the father of three amazing kids, you might think that I could teach a Parenting 101 class. Well, think again. Let there be no doubt, I am still the student. Rarely does a day go by that I don’t discover a new way of making a mistake. Like I’ve said many times, there is no handbook to being a parent or at least I have never seen one. I entered this parenting thing as cold as the Winter Carnaval in Quebec City. And let me tell you, that’s cold. The Carnaval is so cold. How cold is it Gene Rayburn? The Carnaval is so cold, they keep their ice sculptures outside to make sure they don’t melt. That’s cold. True story.  I’ve been there. Ok, enough with the weather, back to the news. For those of you longtime parents, stop laughing at me and just nod when I say -- kids become different when they reach the teens. In the Jewish religion, we call it a Mitzvah, Bar or Bat. The Catholics call it Confirmation. Bruce Springsteen just called it Growin’ Up. As a parent, this is a new world that...

My morning ritual hasn’t changed in six months. Get up, stumble downstairs, make a b-line for my iPhone and immediately check to see who emailed Sir Bacon. More times than not, it is a some “stranger” from somewhere in the world passing along warm pleasantries about my most recent blog. And thank you for that.  Keep 'em coming.  It never gets old. However recently I have noticed a growing trend of phony emails. I guess you could say -- my Sir Bacon inbox has seen more Spam lately than a Hawaiian Grocery Store. Rim shot anyone? I’ve won the Irish lottery more times than I can count. There is an African Prince who is dying to give me his money. And yesterday, I got an email from “Bill Gates” offering me like $12 Million. How bout if you just fix my printer and we call it even. I get a fair amount of email forwarded to me from my real friends too, but they are usually either sports related or just plain quirky. But a few days ago, I got an email from my cousin that I thought...

Now that spring has sprung, it’s time for the return of my favorite sport, baseball. It used to be Major League Baseball. Then it was Fantasy Baseball. But now it’s 11-year old Baseball, as in my 11-year old son’s little league team. This will be the fourth straight year that he has been with the same team and my son really feels at home. I guess home is the right way to put it, since he is the catcher. With three very active kids, we are pretty much involved with sports year round, but baseball seems to hold my greatest interest. Don’t get me wrong, I love watching my older daughter dance, but no matter how hard I try, I really can’t relate. If I attempt half of what she is able to do, I will need hamstring replacement surgery. In both legs. I also love watching my youngest daughter play soccer, but if I hear one more “that was great” by a parent after their child kicks the ball into their own goal, I will scream. International soccer players get killed, literally, when the...