I went to my father's at night. He spoke of poor John [Boswell's brother] with disgust. I was shocked and said, "He's your son, and God made him." He answered very harshly, "If my sons are idiots, can I help it?
My fatherhood made me understand my parents and to honor them more for the love they gave. My sonhood was revealed to me in its own perfection and I understood the reason the Chinese so value filiality, the responsibility of the son to honor the parents.
Believing that fundamental conditions of the country are sound and there is nothing in the business situation to warrant the destruction of values that has taken place on the exchanges during the past week, my son and I have for some days been purchasing sound common stocks. We are continuing and will continue our purchases in substantial amounts at levels which we believe represent sound investment values.
When I told my son that I had to give a talk about my work to non-mathematicians, he warned me that regular people don't think like mathematicians.
[My son] will have a fairly stable future. Not one where the schoolyard talk is whose father grossed $8 million on his last picture.
Is it possible that my sons-in-law will do toilets? If we raise boys to know that diapers need to be changed and refrigerators need to be cleaned, there's hope for the next generation.
I'm always amazed... I took my 11-year-old to an oceanography camp, and these girls came over to me, and my son was like 'Oh here we go, Dad,' because they had been looking. They were like, 'You're the guy, aren't you?' And I said, 'Well, maybe.' They said, 'He is, he's the guy on 'Charmed!''
Unfortunately, this past birthday, my son was up the entire night before, very sick with that horrible - I think it was called the Norovirus or whatever the hell that was that was going around. So I got it. And then my husband [Paul Scheer] got it. We were both fighting it because he had planned this whole day for me, and we were both pretending it wasn't happening. We were literally driving ourselves to a massage and facial that he had planned and at one point, I was like, "I can't drive anymore. I need to get in the passenger's seat."
I was shamed.My son, Bill, who was 14 come to me and said: "Mother, you've been professing that you're an atheist for a long time now. Well, I don't believe in God either, but every day in school I'm forced to say prayers, and I feel like a hypocrite. Why should I be compelled to betray my beliefs?" I couldn't answer him.
Basically, I wake up, take care of my son for a little while, and then like, "I am gonna write!" And then I wind up.
If I could, I would have my son on tour the whole time. But he has school, summer camp, and he has to see his mother.
My sons are precious to me and I have tried incredibly hard to strike the right balance between work and home life while being acutely aware that I haven't always got it right.
I played street hockey in Riverside Park when I was a kid. I played goalie. I didn't make the hockey team in college, so I played lacrosse instead. I didn't play hockey again for 20 to 25 years, and then my son became interested in the game. I decided to pick it up again. A friend let me play backup on his team.
You will never see my sons in parties. We keep to ourselves and try to do whatever we have to do.
I've got bills to pay like everyone else. I'm a high-earner but I don't see myself as rich. I know in some people's eyes I probably am, but I will always have to work. My son Matt asked me if we were rich the other day and I told him that in my view, being rich is not having to get up to go to work. I can't see myself ever being in that position.
I delivered my son. There were other people with me, but I was actively involved.
As a pastor and as a dad, I want my son to know I tell the truth. He can read the book. He knows if I exaggerated or if I didn't. My son is forever gonna believe that I'm an honest person or I'm a liar by what I wrote in that book, because he can read.
My sons have such a deep access to my heart.
I must confess that I'm not a great reader. At the moment I'm reading my son's 'Stig of the Dump' by Clive King and I've got a plant catalogue on the go.
Here was a period where I was particularly attacked, and in untrue ways, some people online said some things that were not true about me - but it was very hurtful. And there was like, a period of time that it was very panicky, I was very upset. And my son at the time was, I guess seven, eight months old, and I would wake up early with him and let my wife sleep.
I made one choice, for example, which is I'm just going to confine work to working hours. I'm not going to work on the weekend. I'm not going to be working while I'm with my son in the morning and in the evening.
I cannot even imagine college. I'm white-knuckling it just letting my son go to kindergarten for eight hours a day.
My son's a painter. All through school his teachers tell him he's a genius. I tell him to paint me an apple that looks like an apple before he paints me one that doesn't. Go where you can go, but start from someplace recognizable.
I was missing the opportunity to see my friends' children grow up, to have my son go to his friends' homes and be involved with their parents.
The invitation is not, "Give Me thine head." The invitation is, "My Son, give Me thine heart."
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