I get nervous at parties but I'm like bedrock at hospitals

When I look back at most of my oldest son's life, I think what he really learned from me is how to fight.  Not physically, mind you. I've never been one for physical violence.  But combat with everything around you as a way of moving through the world.

I know that it was all well intentioned at every step and seemed right at the time.

I fought hard to be there for him like I should and tried and make sure he didn't suffer or go without just because I was a stupid teenager that had him earlier in life than I should have.  

I had to fight with people that had certain assumptions about the irresponsible kid in front of them so I could finish school like I should.

I know that I fought with his mother time and time and time again in an effort to protect him from all the damage she was actively or thoughtlessly trying to do to him.

But in the end, when I think about what he's seen most from his dad - it's fighting.

Fighting to finish school. Fighting people. Fighting his mother. Fighting with him.

I don't think it matters so much what the intent was or what the end result is - he saw the man that raised him being combative constantly - and I think as a result of it all, that is the thing he is most equipped to do in this world when he doesn't know what else to do.

These are the things that take work over the last several years - to stop fighting everything and stop letting that define who and what I am.  Hopefully Anthony can see his dad working hard and the twins will see their dad fighting to just be a good dad.