Category: Family

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Family

The Boy’s Hero

The Wife went to the Open House event for the boy’s teacher tonight. For the non-parents out there, it’s a chance for teachers to explain what the kids go through and what the goals for the year. In the boy’s case, it’s reading and math. Shocker.

The first surprise the Wife found was the boy’s desk is immaculate. No paper balled up and stuffed in the desk, books neatly arranged. Either he’s a neat nick or he knew what was coming. I’m guessing the latter until further evidence is provided.

The second surprise wasn’t something the boy had done. It was something a friend had done. The kids filled out sheets so people could learn stuff about them. One of the items on the sheet was “Who is your hero?” A friend of his wrote the boy was his hero because he’s always helping people and he when he grew up he wanted to help people. The Wife dubbed it a “crying moment.”

The boy chose his Great Grandfather as his hero. He wrote it was because his Great Grandfather had fought in World War II and then took care of his (the boy’s) Great Grandmother when she got sick. He also said that his Great Grandfather was a good cook.

Lastly, the boy wants to be a stay-at-home Dad when he grows up.

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Family

Kids Eat What Parents Feed Them

So the First Lady wants companies to stop marketing unhealthy food to kids.

The following statement is probably about as banal as they come- kids eat what their parents feed them. Now, I know in certain details that statement isn’t always true. Some kids hate potatoes, they all hate vegetables and so forth. I didn’t say it was easy.

But parents are the ones who create the food eating habits in their kids. The Wife and I are constantly telling the kids “No” when they ask for candy or treats. It isn’t 100%, but it’s probably 90% or there abouts. When they want a snack, the first thing we mention is the fruit we have in the fridge or on the counter. We use our parental powers quite liberally where food is concerned.

Notice, none of that has anything to do with marketing from food companies.

Sure, the kids want candy or ice cream or whatever sweet happens to be floating around. But the presence of said unhealthy food does not mean they will get it. The Wife or I will allow them to have it, or we won’t and as I noted earlier- the odds are we won’t.

There are other unhealthy foods as well of course. Chips and crackers in all their glorious forms come to mind. But once again, if parents make those available to their children, then the kids will one, get chips and crackers to eat; and two, ask their parents to get more when they run out.

Again, this has nothing to do with marketing the food to kids.

While I don’t think companies are saints by any stretch, they are run by people whom are fallible just like you and I, this effort on the part of the First Lady is futile and misdirected. These companies manage to create things that people want. Again, banal, but inarguably true. While they are the creators, they are not the gatekeepers. Parents are the gatekeepers. As such, I think a more effective effort would be to encourage parents to tell their kids “No” a little more often.

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Family

We Can’t Fix Everything

The boy faces the prospect of a three hour review for his martial arts this weekend.  The goal is to go over material from the lower belt levels which they are responsible for as black belts.  While he’s not averse to reviews, he is averse to the ones that take three hours.  Welcome to black belt testing.

We talked about it tonight a bit.  He brought it up, actually.  He wanted to know if he had to do the whole thing.  He then started whining that it was going to be too long and there was no way he could do it.  It culminated with “I like karate, but I don’t like it for 3 hours.”

I’m a bit torn because I can understand that at his age, he’s just not ready mentally.  He lacks the maturity.  That said, it’s not like he’ll just wake up one day and suddenly be mature and capable.  He’s got to try, fail, and try some more.  Maturity is a process, and he has got to start somewhere.  Three hour black belt reviews are as good a place as any.

What he really wanted from me was an out- a “Get Out of Jail Free” card as a gift from me.  It’s perfectly normal, really.  For his entire life either the Wife or I have helped him solve, or outright solved for him, his problems.  As he’s gotten older we’ve tried to push that responsibility more and more onto his shoulders, but we still do a lot for him.  Here was one more case he wanted to foist onto us.

Now, in the short term, there is a reprieve.  The Wife has already spoken with the instructors who informed her that his real testing will start with the Spring cycle.  That means he doesn’t have to do the full three hour review this weekend.

It is only a reprieve, though.  If he wants his black belt he will have to go through several hours of testing.  I have no say in it and can’t make it any other way.  His only option is to delay, which only extends his timetable for attaining his black belt.  If he wants it, there is no way around, he’ll have to go through.  He’ll be better and stronger for it, but he doesn’t get that yet.

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Family

The Shotgun Wars: The Word of Power

The lass first picked up on the concept of “calling shotgun” while watching a Scooby Doo cartoon. Who says they can’t pick up valuable life lessons from a cartoon.

It was amusing they way it played out. I heard the exchange on the cartoon, Shaggy called it for what that’s worth, and I wondered if either of the kids would pick up on it. The lass did, as it turned out. She asked me what it meant to “call shotgun.” I think she’d caught on but just wanted to confirm her understanding of what she heard. I explained it and then continued about my business, which at the time was finishing some coffee.

When it came time to get in the car, nothing happened. They both got in without any issues. I figured the revelation from the cartoon had simply fallen flat.

I’ll note at this point that I’ve taken no active role in the whole shotgun experience. Aside from letting either child feel like it’s their spot, I, and the Wife, have chosen to take no sides in the conflict. Resolving their disputes is an exercise entirely up to them.

It was the next day when the lass attempted to call shotgun. She was behind her brother getting out the door and I could hear her stammering “Shot… shot…. I call shot… ” I called out to her “It’s ‘I call shotgun‘.” She immediately corrected herself as they walked down the sidewalk.

Her brother said, and I quote, “Whatever.” Then got in the car.

Words only have power if they are allowed to.

After that, the notion of calling shotgun was dropped for awhile. I figured that would be it until they had the experience riding with their friends.

Unexpectedly, the lass tried it again recently. Even more surprising, the boy yielded to the call and allowed his sister to obtain the front seat. Most surprising of all was that he didn’t whine about it.

Curious, I asked him why he’d changed his mind about it. He replied it was the rules of the game, so he figured he ought to follow them. I suspect he chose to honor it with the intention that he’d visit it back on the lass someday soon. He didn’t want to afford her the excuse that he hadn’t listened when she did it so she won’t listen when he uses it.

Whatever his reasoning, we now have the opportunity for more civilized determination of who rides shotgun. We’ll see if that comes to pass.

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Family

Knowing Your Kids

The boy didn’t sleep well last night.  I didn’t either.  That’s just coincidence.  When he has trouble sleeping, he typically comes into the room and wakes up the Wife to let her know.  Last night, he got my attention since I was already awake.  It was very late and I told him he needed to relax.

He went back to his room.

After a second visit from him, I got up to check on him because that seemed like the right thing to do at the time.  I doubt too many of us enjoy getting out of bed at late hours like that and I’m no exception. When I got to his room, I saw that he was curled up on the bed facing his alarm clock.  He was just staring at the display.  I looked at it long enough to note it was after midnight, then turned it away from him.  I told him he should never stare at a clock when he’s having trouble sleeping because the light from the clock will make it harder to fall asleep.  I went back to bed and that was the last of it for the night.

He wasn’t particularly pleasant this morning.  The Wife was a bit appalled with him.  Then I explained his troubled sleeping last night and she softened a bit.  He’s never particularly pleasant when he doesn’t sleep well.

Tonight, when we put the kids to bed, I reminded him not to stare at his clock.  I’d already said “Goodnight” to the lass, so I went to take care of putting away some laundry.  Along the way, I had a premonition that the lass would ask “Why shouldn’t we stare at the clock, Dad?”  I went so far as to plan a response should it come to pass.

A few minutes later, the premonition proved prophetic.  I was in the middle of putting my shorts away when she called out, pretty much exactly as I’d imagined it, right down to the tone and inflections. Since I’d heeded my premonition, I already had a speech in mind to explain to her, and the boy, about Circadian Rhythms and why staring at a light can make it difficult sleep.  When I finished, she reached over and turned her clock so it wasn’t facing her.

This happens fairly regularly anymore with both the Wife and I.  A benefit of knowing the kids better than they know themselves is being prepared for what we know is coming.  It doesn’t always work out as well as it did in this case, but it’s satisfying when it does.

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Family

A Footnote for the Kids

I don’t really recall how exactly it came up, but the boy was asking what was special about today. Or something to that effect. I was a little surprised- in previous years the school had discussed the day and what had happened with him so I’d assumed the same thing had happened this year. Perhaps I was wrong.

Rather than starting an inquiry, I went over the rough outlines of what had happened: terrorists had flown a plane into what was then the World Trade Center and the buildings had collapsed. The terrorists had also flown a plane into the Pentagon and tried to fly a plane into the White House. I told him they had failed because the passengers on the flight had revolted and attempted to retake the plane and that it had crashed in Pennsylvania.

He said “I thought something had happened to the Twin Towers.”

I can still recall many details of that day- where I was at work, how they’d setup a TV so we could watch the coverage, how co-workers simply sat there all day watching the events unfold, conversations, images. I can still recall moments where co-workers simply sat down with their head in their hands, not wanting to believe what they were seeing. It is a day I’ll never forget.

It’s also a day the boy and the lass will never remember. They were not yet even born. Come to think of it, I wasn’t even married yet.

As such, they have no ties to the day or it’s events. Everything they experience as they become more aware of the world around them will have been affected by that day. Yet, to them, it will all simply be normal. They didn’t know about life before terrorism was a political football. Their first trip on a plane (yes- they have yet to fly!) will set their expectations and they’ll have little reason to think that things were once different.

Obviously, in many respects, there is little tangible affect on their own lives. They go to school, they play with their friends, they do their extra-curriculars. I’m not trying to say there are terrorists around every corner and hiding in every bush.

I think it just struck me that the impact of this day emotionally on them will be next to nothing. While I and the rest of us who lived it will remember it for the rest of our lives. Certainly, they will learn about it and come to understand the impact it had on the world as time went on. But I suppose it will be for them like Pearl Harbor was for us- a day that will live in infamy. But no true understanding of what that means.

Part of me feels that’s for the better and wishes that they will never have cause to empathize with us. There’s another part that doesn’t think they will be that lucky. Only time will tell that tale.

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Family

We Must Lead a Boring Life

Today was the big day for the Wife. Today was the day that we got our brand spanking new kitchen stove and refrigerator. The stove is a gas stove, which we had converted to propane. The fridge replaces an older one that we’d had forever and it’s main feature improvement was the dual front doors. She’d been pining for the stove in particular for a long time now as our electric one has been slowly but surely biting the dust.

It’s to be expected that the Wife be excited about the new toys. What wasn’t expected was the excitement of the kids for the new appliances. They got up this morning asking when they’d arrive. When they got off the bus, the first question out of their mouths was “Do we have a new refrigerator and stove?” When I confirmed for them that they were here and installed, they both sprinted down the driveway to the house. It was Christmas come early.

They were buzzing around the new appliances like bees around a flower bed. How does this door open? OOOO! LOOK! This door pulls out. OH WOW! FIRE! Dad LOOK! There’s a blue flame like on the grill outside. So are we basically grilling in the house now? COOL! Look how both doors can open! OH MY GOD! The stove is huge! I could like, sleep in there! What’s this do, Dad? Wait, there’s a water dispenser in the fridge?!? AWESOME! Cool touchscreen! We have an ice dispenser? Where does the water come from? When will we have ice? What’s this button do? What’s that up there?

Of all the things about the two appliances, the ice dispenser was the biggest curiosity. They wanted to know how long before ice would start popping out. Would it overflow the freezer? How does it know when to stop? Where does the ice form? Questions like that make you realize they are totally on autopilot and literally, questions are forming in their brain and being shunted straight to their mouth.

Then, for the remainder of the evening, every time they heard CLUNKing from the fridge, they’d rush over to the freezer to check out the newest haul of ice cubes. The even counted them at one point trying to determine how many came out at a time. They also were trying to guess how many ice cubes would be in the tray by the morning. They wanted to know my guess. I told them 467 because, well, why not? They didn’t like that answer because that’s a lot of counting.

Frankly, I’m surprised they are able to sleep.

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Family

Reading Instructions Good, Comprehending Instructions Better

As expected, the boy came home with homework. As he’s been doing so far this year, he sat down and got started on it right away, working on the math work that is due tomorrow. He has reading and spelling work that is not due until later this week.

I thought of this homework as “Tetris” homework, referring to the arcade game. He was supposed to work with shapes that he could create by arranging 4 squares such that at least 1 full side of a square was touching another full side of another square. Thus, why I thought of the Tetris game- anyone who played that would immediately know there are only 5 shapes that can be arranged: an ‘L’, a short ‘T’, a block, a line and a ‘S’ or ‘Z’ if you squint at it really hard.

The boy, never having played Tetris, didn’t know that so he had to work at it. The instructions told him to cut out 4 squares on the back of the paper so he could play with them and arrange them. They also told him to ignore duplicates that were mirrors or flipped variations of the same shape, like a backwards ‘L’. Finally, he was supposed to draw the shapes on grid on the back of the paper.

The only part he seemed to get was the drawing the shapes on the grid. He wanted to draw the straight line horizontally and vertically. Then he wanted to draw the ‘L’ in it’s various different configurations. He never cut out the squares either. He did manage to finish that work, but not without a lot of erasing and a little prodding from myself about following the directions.

Then came his spelling. He wanted me to give him a spelling quiz. He has 80 something words to work with this week. It sounds impressive until you realize they are variations on one word like “stab, stabbed, stabbing” or “state, stated, stating.” I gave him a quiz, but I just picked a single tense from each group of 3 words, rather than working through all the variations of each word.

He wrote each of these word 3 times, because “that’s what the directions said to do.” Then, he started writing all the other variations 3 times each as well. He had completed about 60 of the words when the Wife happened to look at the directions.

They directions actually were to take the quiz from a parent and then write and misspelled word 3 times. He didn’t misspell any of the words I’d quizzed him on. That means he did a lot of extra spelling. A lot of extra spelling.

He then began what has to be the most dramatic overreaction to anything ever.

First, he threw himself onto the ground and buried his face in his arm. There he laid, quietly. I chuckled, thinking it was just a dramatic one off to realizing he’d done a bunch of unnecessary extra work. Little did I realize that he was actually a tropical depression developing into a category 5 hurricane.

When he got up, he was mad and he was crying. It started as just a whine about how he’d messed up his homework. I was still unawares about what was coming and just ignored him. It was a little ridiculous at that stage, but I simply assumed he’d be over it. At this point, he was just mournfully staring at his paper, caught in that emotion where he thinks he’s done something that can’t be undone.

The whining then began to build. It was developing into that roaring cry, where a kid is screaming at the top of his lungs while he’s crying. His face was starting to turn pink and his gesticulating was getting more spastic- like he’d make up his mind to do something and then change it a half-second later and kept doing it over and over again. I finally realized that things were getting a whee bit out of control and I tried to whisk him away to his martial arts class. I firmly told him “Let’s go” and headed out the door, fully expecting him to be right behind me.

I sat out in the car waiting for him. And waiting for him. And waiting for him. I honked the horn once. Then again. Then a third time. Finally, the door swung open and out marched … the Wife. I turned the car off and immediately realized just how bad things had gotten.

I could hear him, wailing and stomping, from where I was out in the driveway. Great, roaring “AHHHHHHH’s” echoed from within the house. I’m pretty certain it was vibrating with all the stomping he was doing.

Apparently, he was looking for his flip flops and couldn’t find them. He was still upset about his homework. The Wife had come outside because she needed to get away from him for a few moments. I went over to the house and yelled in for him to get moving. As I walked back to the car, where the Wife had gone to in the interim, I laughed. The lass had broken last week over homework. Now, the boy had barely outlasted her by a week, all because he hadn’t comprehended his homework instructions.

When he finally came outside, he was still wailing and his face was red. There were no more tears though. He was just screaming like a mad-child. He had snapped, pure and simple.

I refused to take him anywhere in that state and he finally settled down to a much more respectable sulk. On any other day, sulking over his homework like that wouldn’t have been acceptable. But this wasn’t any other day and I wasn’t going to complain. We headed off to his martial arts class.

Which was turned out to be a timely thing. The theme for the month is self-control.

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Family Football

The Boy Experiences Why We Watch

We had a Kickoff party today for our returning Cub Scouts. Nothing formal, just a simple get together for the kids and the parents. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.

The boy started asking about football this morning. He wanted to know if there were any games on today. After confirming there were a “few” games on today, he wanted to know if he’d be able to watch them. That was a little less straight forward. With a bunch of guests coming here today, I told him he’d probably be able to watch at some point, but I wanted him to play outside today.

Things ended up working out well from my perspective as he didn’t end up watching until the end of the Pats game. He and a few of his Scout mates wanted to check out some games. So he did a bit of surfing and found the Pats game. By that point I’d gone back outside to mingle some more.

The boy quickly appeared by my side and he had distressing news “The Patriots are losing 21-20 and there isn’t a lot of time left.” He was giving me a look like “Fix it Dad!” There was clearly some emotional investment in this game, even though he’d only been watching a few moments.

Being a veteran of such situations, I asked him who had the ball. He didn’t know, so he scampered back into the house to find out. I expect by the end of the year, he’ll come out with a complete rundown of the situation: exact time on the clock, possession, down and distance, key injuries, the works. He’ll just need a little coaching in that respect.

The boy didn’t come out and I got distracted talking with some people outside. I then became cognizant of screaming and shouting coming from in the house. Initially, I thought the boys were arguing, then I thought perhaps they’d started some sort of game. Then, they came bursting out of the house screaming “THE PATS WON!”

What followed was a rundown of what happened in about 30 seconds. From the excitement in their voices, one might have thought the Pats had just won the Super Bowl, as opposed to the first game of the season.

Nothing like a last minute come-from-behind win.

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Family

The Last Bagel

The first thing I heard when I came downstairs this morning was “Wait, you’re eating the last bagel?”

I had quite literally just rolled out of bed and stumbled downstairs. I was still feeling foggy and heading for the coffee maker to make myself a fresh cup. Despite my early morning fog condition, the boy’s immediate reaction to the revelation that the last bagel had been claimed by his sister was plain to see.

He slumped forward, his head dipping low, almost touching the counter. There was a pained expression on his face like he had a bad case of gas trapped in his stomach. He stayed like that for several seconds. By that time, I’d made my way to the coffee maker and was preparing my cup. I’d been hoping to at least get a mouthful before things got desperate.

Then, in a teary voice, the boy croaked “I can’t believe you ate the last bagel. I never get the last bagel. Did you ever think that I might want to have it?”

WOW

So much emotion over a bagel. And he “never gets the last bagel”? Who knew he kept track of such a thing? He can’t remember where his karate uniform is, but he can remember that he’s never had a “last bagel.” Then the accusation towards his sister- obviously she owes it to him to check what’s on his menu in the morning. All this emotion brought on by a bagel.

I wish I could say the humor continued from there. Unfortunately, it doesn’t. I can say, though, that I finally did get to enjoy my cup of coffee. I went and sat down on the couch to enjoy it for a few moments and was joined by the boy, whom curled up with a pout on his face. You’d have thought he’d learned that he’d been permanently placed on Santa’s naughty list.

The boy’s attitude didn’t improve until we got into the car for school. Along the way, the Wife and I both admonished him to let it go. Even after he finally did have his bagel-less breakfast, he held the grudge against his sister. For her part, the lass didn’t try to rub it in. All she wanted was to enjoy her bagel. The boy did his best to make her feel guilty about it though.

I wish I could draw a neat and tidy conclusion from this morning’s experience, but the reality is I’ve got nothing. It struck me as absurd when the boy pulled his routine this morning and it strikes me just as absurd now. The bottom line is a parent just never knows when that next crisis is going to hit.

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Family

Just When You Think You’ve Got Things Figured Out

I was sitting there, listening to the lass complain about her “stupid homework” that was “so easy” and I was thinking “I’ve heard this song before…”

The biggest surprise of the, still young, school year is that the lass hates her homework. We’re talking about the girl who, while in kindergarten, would bring home a homework book meant to be done over the course of a week or so and complete it that evening. Last year, she actually wanted homework and complained that she didn’t get enough of it. I documented the boy’s homework struggles last year right here so there’s no need to rehash the details. The main point is, he didn’t like it.

So now, after a few days of homework, the boy has been no trouble and the lass has been a royal pain in the ass. Her attitude has been so poor about it that she’s gotten herself sent to bed early two nights in a row. How bad was it? At one point this morning, while she was arguing with us about her doing her homework, the boy actually warned her to stop before she got herself in trouble. That’s how furiously she was digging the hole for herself.

If there’s one thing parenting has constantly reminded me it’s the capacity for surprise that kids hold. In that sense, I shouldn’t be surprised by this turn of events. But I am. The Wife and I spent most of the summer wondering what how the boy would handle homework this year, especially after last year. We never seriously considered the lass because she’d never given us reason to.

Yet here we are. Luckily, it’s early days. If things can change one way, they can change the other. We’ll just have to exercise a little extra patience.

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Family

A Lesson in Cleaning

The Wife is a neat-nick.

I am not.

This is a not unimportant fundamental difference in life philosophy. Her desk is immaculate and a paragon of the old adage “A place for everything and everything in its place.” My desk, typically, has a few square inches of cleared area that moves around the desk with the piles. Kind of like those tiled-number puzzles where the object is to put all the tiles in order and there’s one open space so that all the tiles can be moved around. I defend my piles simply by stating that I remember where everything falls. An disorganized desk is a sign of an organized mind, I say.

Given our disparate views on organization and cleanliness, the Wife tends to be the enforcer where the kid’s rooms are concerned. Well, where the house is concerned really but for now we’ll focus on the kid’s rooms. She wants them picked up and tidy. She has gone to great lengths to provide cubbies for their toys so that the floors in the room can be clear for walking on. It just requires a little maintenance on the kid’s part to make the system work.

Typically, the motivation for that maintenance is provided in the form of nagging.

So today, when the Wife told them to clean their rooms, they had to interrupt their morning cartoons to go do it. SUCH AN INCONVENIENCE! They disappeared for about 5 minutes, then returned. The Wife, in the meantime, was vacuuming the floors because our dogs are blowing their coats. Again.

For whatever reason, perhaps because the quick turnaround time from the being-asked to completing their “cleaning” seemed odd, I ventured up into their rooms to see how they’d done. Just because I don’t practice it, doesn’t mean I don’t know how to do it. It also doesn’t mean I don’t know how to recognize a cleaned room. Toys still on the floor, beds unmade, clothes in various piles around the room do not a clean room make.

So I called them up and played the role of supervisor for the next 20 minutes. During this time, my most oft used phrase was “What’s that?” The second most was “Where does it belong?” They claimed they’d made their beds. After pointing out the crumpled blankets, the half-off-the-bed pillows, the mussed sheets and the stuffed animals strew hither and thither, they were chastened enough to actually make their beds. Clothes on the floor were picked up- some went into the laundry, some into drawers. Toys buried under those clothes were also picked up. Pieces of paper were pointed out and thrown out. Shoes were put in closets. Finally, they each vacuumed their rooms. All was done under my close supervision.

When it was finished, I told them both to take a good look at what they’d done. With them having done so, I then explained that was what clean looked like and there should be no confusion in the future about what’s expected of them when told to clean their rooms. They both nodded with understanding then went back downstairs to finish watching their cartoons.

I’ve got a feeling we’ll be doing this again.

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Family

Kids Are Good at the Dodge

The lass keeps a messy room.

Not for lack of attempts from the Wife to correct it either. There’s a constant push-pull battle going on with the Wife trying to get the lass to clean up her room and the lass … not cleaning up her room. I’m sure this isn’t indicative of things to come.

So in today’s installment, the Wife walked into the lass’ room and saw a bunch of clothes on the floor. Exasperated, she asked the lass why they were laying there. The lass was immediately defensive, saying “They were picked up but they fell down.”

And, apparently, that’s where they stayed. It’s just the natural disorder of things, that’s all. The clothes don’t want to be picked up and put away, they want to be laying on the floor, the lass was just acquiescing to their demands.

The Wife was, well, let’s say none to thrilled with that response. I was in another room chuckling.

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Family

An “Ehh” First Day

I suppose the rain this morning pretty well captured the kid’s mood. They went through their routines- breakfast, making sandwiches, backpacks ready, a little morning cartoons. Neither of them was particularly pleased though.

The lass griped about he pictures- somehow she’d gotten some food on her dress. Rather than addressing he problem, she insisted there was none. We eventually opted to turn the TV off on them this morning to drive home the point that the bad attitude wasn’t appreciated.

On the ride in, the lass whined about recess and gym and why everyone like those times during school. She thought they were stupid and didn’t like them. Continuing with all the happy talk, the boy complained about being stuck in “smelly, sweaty rooms” all day. When we finally arrived at the dropoff, the boy stalked out the door, closing it in his sister’s face without so much as a backwards glance. With his head down, he might as well have been marching off to prison.

The lass brightened a little at that point. She opened the door her brother had closed in her face and hopped out without complaint. She turned and waved at the Wife and I, a big smile on her face. Then she was off, and we headed home.

By that point the rain had stopped falling, but the clouds remained.

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Family

A Quiet Final Day

In contrast to most of the rest of the Summer, the kids spent their final day playing quietly. I had to go participate in sexual harassment training at the school I tutor for, so I left them for a couple of hours this morning. When I left, they were starting a game of Monopoly. When I returned, a couple of hour later, they were finishing that game of Monopoly.

They continued playing, changing board games as their patience with each other began wearing thin over a new game of Monopoly. In the meantime, I had a little lunch and then tended to some outside chores that needed doing. I’ve replanted grass over all the areas of the lawn that I’d wrecked during the Great Patio Project of the Summer so I’ve been tending to that with water and the like while waiting for the initial sprigs of grass to show up. I told them I’d probably be going into the pool for a bit after I was done.

This news got them outside for a bit. They were in the pool well before I was, eagerly awaiting my arrival in the pool. They’ve invented a new game they call “Shark”. Original, I know. It’s basically a form of under water tag. The person that’s “it” swims around but can only tag someone when they and their target are both submerged. We play with eye goggles one, so it’s actually quite difficult to get tagged. None the less, we managed several rounds until it became too cool to continue.

Plus, it was time to start prepping for dinner. We wanted the boy to attend martial arts class tonight to make things easier for later this week. I’d missed my own usual Monday morning class because of the training I’d gone to, so I decided to attend classes tonight as well. The boy has been participating in teen classes lately because the children’s classes have nothing left to offer him at the junior apprentice level. So my participating tonight meant we got to take a class together, which he seemed to take as a novelty. Anyway, in order for him and I to make class, I had to get dinner going a little earlier than usual. While I took care of dinner, the kids went back to playing their games.

We returned home for class to find the Wife and the lass curled up on the couch reading together. They had already done some prep for tomorrow morning, getting lunches and snacks ready. The boy had to go take a shower, then he got a little ice cream- a final summer treat before the long slog of the year began. Afterwards, he also took care of some of the formalities for the next day, assembling part of his lunch and making sure his school bag was ready to go.

They were both in bed by 8. The Wife is in bed now, and I’ll be following suit shortly. The Summer was, in many respects, too short. For all the parental joking about “relief” that school is back, the house will have a quiet about it that will take a little getting used to. On the way home from martial arts tonight, the boy said, a little glumly, “I guess a lot of parents will be happy come tomorrow.” I thought for a moment and then told him it probably wasn’t quite like that. I said Summer’s are a fun time for everyone since we all get to spend a little more time together doing things, even if it’s just hanging out together. Summer is a nice break from the routine of schools- the dropoffs, the pickups, the homework, the activities.

When I finished explaining this to him, he seemed a little more pleased about the circumstances. I suppose it never occurred to him that, while he and his sister were busy enjoying their Summer vacation, the Wife and I were as well.

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Ending the Summer with a Flourish

The first day of school is next Tuesday. Why it starts on Tuesday instead of Monday I have no idea. Considering that weather has extended the past several school year significantly due to days cancelled, I’d think they’d try to front load the year a bit more. But I’m not in charge. So school starts on Tuesday.

They also get Friday off as well.

With school vacation fast coming to its end, the kids are getting every opportunity to continue enjoying it. The weather has been absolutely fantastic for awhile now. How fantastic? If summer weather were typically like this, I might actually not cringe at the thought of Summer’s arrival. Warm days with highs around 80, cool nights with temps in the low 50’s and even the 40’s sometimes. Little to no humidity, which is the typical hallmark of New England summers. The past several weeks have been this way.

So they spent today in the pool for the afternoon. They’ve thoroughly enjoyed the addition of the pool this year. I have as well. It’s been very refreshing a number of times after finishing outdoor chores.

Tonight, the boy is sleeping over at a friend’s for a birthday party. It isn’t the normal sort of sleepover either. They’ve setup tents for sleeping outdoors tonight and they also setup their own “drive-in” movie. They took bedsheets and erected a big screen and are using a projector so the boys can watch. There’s a campfire as well as cake. A pretty good setup.

The lass her time with Mom and Dad at one of the local fairs that started today. After dropping the boy off, we took her there and spent the evening walking around and seeing the sights at the fair. She watched tractor pulls and lawnmower races as well as checking out livestock. Plus, she got to eat fair food. Always a hit- except at the weighin the next morning.

The fun doesn’t end for them today either. Tomorrow, the boy has a practice at his dojang, after which he’s invited to go to one of the instructor’s house for a pool party. The lass isn’t left out of the action either. She’s going to a friend’s birthday/ pool party as well. Possibly the only thing better than a pool in their own backyard is a pool in someone else’s backyard.

Not sure what Sunday or Monday have in store. But I’m sure we’ll try to make the most of it. Because next Tuesday, it’s time to get back to work.

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Family

The Boy Earns Junior Apprentice

At the end of July, the boy earned his Junior Apprentice Black Belt at his martial arts school. The instructors at the school have created a stripped down curriculum for kids not yet in their teens. The instructors experience is that young kids don’t have the maturity to properly learn all of the nuances needed to earn a full “adult” black belt. So, in order to reward their progress and dedication, they created an intermediate level belt called a “junior black belt” that serves as a bridge to a full adult black belt. This is the path the boy is now on.

There was a meeting last week for all of the kid about to enter the next “testing cycle” for the black belt and junior black belt levels. It was interesting in that the expectations for the kids in the testing phase are quite high. The instructors were quite clear in communicating that it was on the kids to make sure they were ready for the upcoming tests, that they knew which classes they needed to attend and that they adhered to the “roadmap” provided them. In short, they were telling the parents that outside of getting the kids to the school, to back off and let the kids flounder.

The rationale for this approach was pretty simple- they feel the kids need to struggle, fail, cope, persevere, succeed. In particular, in order for the success to have its maximum effect, they want the kids to be able to recognize that it was their own efforts and dedication, rather than their parents driving them, that resulted in their success. The instructors have created a curriculum, or “roadmap” as they referred to it, that, in addition to the classes, they believe will allow the kids to successfully negotiate their apprentice belt level.

Tonight, the boy was doing some of his push-up and sit-up requirements as specified by the curriculum. The Wife also took him for a bike ride this morning to help satisfy other parts of it. Assuming he’s able to stick it out, I think it’s safe to assume he’ll have learned more about how to succeed than I had at his age.

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Family

Of Tweezles and Things

Tucked away in the woods of Storrs here in Connecticut, is a little park. It’s call, somewhat unimaginatively, The Adventure Park. I mean, aren’t they all?

What sets this one apart is that some mad genius devised a way for people to safely traverse through the trees of a forest like a bunch of monkeys, or maybe squirrels, or any other woodland creature that calls the trees their home. Essentially, they’ve created a bunch of “trails” through the trees, where a participant’s sole goal is to make it from one tree platform to the next along a trail.

Did I mention the lowest trail is 15 feet in the air?

Did I also mention my rather strong aversion to heights?

There are any number of ways to get from one platform to the next on these trails. The how depends on the trail’s difficulty rating. For instance, the easiest trail, which is also the lowest, had things like swings that we had to walk across, an 6 inch log to walk across, wires with hoops to pass through, and on and on. The easiest ways to get from one platform to the next is using the zip lines- those are also the most fun way to do it. The harder trails had things like, tightropes.

The adventure starts with getting outfitted in a climbing harness. Then, it’s on to the safety course, where the wonderful tweezle is introduced. The safety harness has two clips, one of which is always attached to the safety lines that are run throughout the course. Manipulation of these two safety clips is the key to being able to navigate the courses. First, one clip is always locked, the other is not. The one that is unlocked is used to latch on to the next safety line. On that line is a tweezle, which is a locking/unlocking device for the clips. Once the clip is put onto the line, the tweezle is used to lock that clip to the line. Locking the one clip simultaneously unlocks the other clip, which can than be removed from the previous safety line. Then, it is attached to the safety line with the other clip and the climber can move on to the next section of the course. In this way, a climber is always attached to a safety line until the end of the course. Or they decide they’ve had enough of navigating flimsy pathways high in the air and ask the staff to rescue them.

So here’s how all this work in practice. Start on a platform and locate the safety loop wrapped around the tree. Clip onto the loop with the unlocked clip, tweezle to lock it, then attach the other clip to the safety loop. Then, work around to the “path” to the next platform. Take the unlocked clip, unhook it from the safety loop and attach it to the safety line for the path, tweezle to lock it, then unhook the other clip from the loop and hook it to the safety line. Take a deep breath, say a prayer, work across to the next platform, and start the cycle again. Keep doing this until the end of the trail, then kiss the sweet ground and glory in it’s solidity.

There are 5 color coded courses, increasing in difficulty and height. As I mentioned earlier, the yellow course is about 15 feet off the ground and the easiest. There are 2 green courses that are about 20 feet in the air. Next, there is a blue course which is about the same height, but more challenging in passing from one platform to the next. Finally, there is the “black oak” course. It starts with a twenty foot climb up a “ladder” where the “rungs” are six-inch wide bars. The stringers for this “ladder” are some kind of wire. Supposedly, this course is 25 feet in the air. I had no interest in further discovery there.

So we finished our safety course and then got to work on the yellow course. It took us about 20 minutes, with me leading the way, followed by the boy and the lass and finally the Wife. With the kids sandwiched between us, we figured that was the best way to make sure they were tweezling properly. The obstacles were more challenging for me than the kids because most of the things I had to squat down to pass through, the kids could more easily just bend down a bit, or even pass through without any problem.

Having completed the beginner course, the Wife decided to stay below and watch. Leaving me, the height averse one, to work through one of the green courses with the kids. So we started on our next adventure, which was pretty straight forward until we reached a fairly unassuming looking series of wooden slatted tunnels. The slats ran the length of the tunnel and were attached to 3 metal rings. There were three of these tunnels between the tree platforms.

After looking it over, I decided to just crawl through them- they were way to narrow for me to simply squat down or bend over to pass through. The Wife called up from below that I should go through feet first. When I got to the end of the first tunnel, I realized she was right.

The first unobvious thing was the tunnels were a bit slippery. By itself, that’s not a big deal. But couple with the other unobvious fact that the tunnels were not LEVEL, and I found myself sliding down towards the open end of the tunnel. Which brings me to the third unobvious thing about this particular obstacle- I had to pass from one tunnel to the next over a gap that was about 18 inches wide and 20 feet in the air. This meant that I basically had to reach across open space and then drag myself across that space to get to the next tunnel. Then, I had to do it again to get to another tunnel, and a final time to get onto the next platform.

I’d hoped that was the worst of it. Alas, it was not meant to be.

After passing across a couple more relatively simple platforms, we came to a tightrope. Literally. Twenty feet in the air and we had to walk across 1/2″ piece of wire. Uphill no less. The only thing we had to help with balance was a 4-foot long board suspended above the tightrope. The board is suspended from another line with a roller, so we could work across the tightrope while holding onto it. Halfway across, the tightrope started shaking uncontrollably. It occurred to me that, if I slipped, the safety system would catch me, but I’d roll back down to the platform I’d just left- meaning I’d have to start all over again at this obstacle. I completed that obstacle on the first try, but I was relieved to get to that little 5-foot square platform on the other side and tweezle onto the safety of the tree.

In the end, the lass out did us all. My nerves were shot after completing that second course, I was done. The lass wanted to continue on to the next course. But that was it.

That had been enough adventure for one morning.

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Family

A Summer of Harry Potter

It’s actually kind of interesting for me to think back on this. When the boy was about 5 and the lass about 4, I read them the entire 1st book of the Harry Potter series. They were both intrigued by it and even more so after seeing the movie.

And that’s where things stayed for several years.

The Wife and I stuck to our guns on the matter of the movies- we would not let them watch the movies until they had completed the books. The boy made several attempts at starting the 2nd book, but it wasn’t until the beginning of this past school year when he finally managed to keep at it. It was during a martial arts tournament in March that he finally finished the 2nd book and also started the 3rd.

I also remember back in May when he started the 4th book, The Goblet of Fire. He was a little intimidated by the 700+ page count. He figured it would take until the end of the Summer for him to finish it. The Wife and I told him, there was no rush and whenever he finished it would be fine.

He finished it shortly after school got out.

He finished The Order of the Phoenix a month-and-a-half later, and then the Half Blood Prince he finished this past Saturday. He finished The Deathly Hallows today- he could barely put it down.

Talking with him about it, he didn’t retain all of the details and he missed some things as well. I suppose that’s to be expected for a 9-year old reading big books like the final few were. Still, in some respects it’s too bad because there are a lot of details that make the story more enjoyable. Perhaps some day he’ll go back and re-read the series.

The best part, though, was a question he asked shortly after he’d finished The Deathly Hallows. “What story should I read next?” he asked.

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Family

Still Learning to Look

There’s the old adage “An emergency on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.” I bring this up in the context of the boy coming screaming down the steps this morning and asking me, in an extremely agitated state, “Do you know where my swim shirt is?”

I flatly replied “No.”

He seems not to have figured out that I don’t have a “lost item” tracker in my cerebral cortex. Nor do I have x-ray vision. I can use logic though, and invariably this is all that’s needed to track down 99% of the “lost” items he and his sister come at me with. The thing is, I hate to do that because he’d rather I or the Wife find his lost items. He won’t learn if he doesn’t do.

“Well, it’s not my fault that it’s lost because you did laundry, so you were the last one to see it.”

These sorts of statements test my patience. On the one hand, he’s frustrated and doesn’t possess very good coping skills yet and I’m aware of that circumstance. On the other, he’s being extraordinarily rude to someone he’s asking for help. On yet another hand, he seems capable of using logic, albeit a twisted form of it. Ultimately, today, I decide to hold my tongue and let his comment slide. But I don’t get up to help him look- I’m sure it’s somewhere obvious and sensible, he’s just too worked up to think of that spot.

He stomps upstairs to continue his search, screaming “It’s not anywhere!” This is always the pattern for lost items. He looks in the spots where he expects the item to be and doesn’t find it. He then looks more frantically in the spot he expects the item to be, and still doesn’t find it. In between, he gets up and walks in circles gazing at all areas of the room along the way, declares “It isn’t anywhere!” and then looks a third time where he expects it to be. Unremarkably, he still does not find it. When I or the Wife ask “Where did you see or have it last?” the reply is invariably “I had it and then put it away right here. Someone picked it up and moved it on me. This always happens to me!” The thumping sound that follows is typically my palm hitting my face.

By this point, the boy is highly agitated and difficult to deal with. He yells, and retorts to suggestions with great amounts of sarcasm. We calmly try to suggest places he might look and he invariably replies he already looked there. The Wife and I are dubious of this prospect because, well, every time we intervene we look in a couple of spots and lo-and-behold the item turns up exactly where we said it would.

The good news is the boy finally found his swim shirt in the laundry. Apparently, he actually had to look to find it. You know, that means moving a couple of other articles of clothing to uncover his shirt. The bad news is he was an ootch to his Mother, who was trying to get ready for the day while he stomped around with his searching antics, along the way.

My assumption is that someday he’ll learn how to find things in a more congenial manner. The tough part is I’ve been thinking that for what seems a long time now.