Month: December 2009

We were out on the town tonight and had to stop to gas up the car. While I was fueling up, the boy opened the door, popped his head out and asked:

“Dad, why is the red gas special?”

Me: “Huh?”

The Boy: “What does the special gas do?”

He was referring to the gas labeled as “Special” at the pump. The other grades were “Plus” and “Super.” The word “Special” was above the gas nozzle as white on a red background.

Somewhat flummoxed, I stammered for a simple explanation to explain the differences in the gas grades. I came up with the brilliant “It burns hotter…”

The boy’s response was better:

“I thought it would make the car fly.”

I recovered in time to tell him that’s what the “Super” gas does.

The Wife did something she hadn’t done in 30 years: ice skating.

The boy has been learning to skate for the purposes of a youth hockey league thing. He’s getting there, but the only chance he’s had to get on the ice are the Sunday mornings when his “Learn-to-skate” time. Today we decided to take him again in the evening when the rink has a family skate time as well.

After the boy was born, the first piece of advice I remember getting from Dad was “Do as I say, not as I do.”

What he actually meant was he had observed that kids tend to mimic parents actual actions, rather than act like their parents tell them. If the two are one and the same, everything is hunky-dory. It’s when the parent acts a different way than their stated policy that things get dicey.

Being self-observant is difficult because it requires being honest with yourself. Let’s face it, we don’t WANT to think that we’re doing something wrong as a parent and it’s pretty easy to just assume that the child understands that parents get to do certain things and kids do other things, end of story. Applying it to a kid makes it tricky because you have to be able to imagine how the child is processing what they are seeing and hearing. Applying the knowledge is the most difficult step, because it requires the parent to change their own behavior patterns.

My right knee has fluid in it. Been that way since racquetball started up. As a result, my right calf is sore all the time.

The nerve bundle in my left elbow is swollen so I can’t fully extend my arm- maybe about 95%. If it does straighten out, like when a child decides to use it as a vine to swing on, the pain is excruciating.

My neck gets sore when I’m working at a desk or over a computer too long.

My lower back stiffens up if I sit too long.

My left shoulder has a stabbing pain in it if I try to lift the kids. That one’s new- don’t know if it’s here for the long haul or not.

I remember not feeling like this after football games.

I remember playing racquetball for hours at a time, night after night without needing a break.

I remember throwing a discus on a sprained ankle.

I remember riding 65 miles on bikes training for bike racing, then doing uphill sprints the next day.

I remember endless weeks of weight training 4 days a week and then competing on the weekends.

I remember.

The lass was looking at my forearms today and asked me “What are all those things on your arms Dad?”

“What things?”

“These liney things. Where did you get those?” she said and she traced her fingers over the veins in my forearm.

I said “Those are veins. You have them in your forearms too…”

“I don’t have 4 arms!!! Silly Dad.”

Yes, silly Dad.

For the boy, today probably actually started yesterday.

I took him with my to my racquetball match. We played early so I figured it was a good opportunity to give him a different experience and still get him home at decent hour. I play at an Italian men’s club with two courts. They only play doubles and most of the guys have been playing there for years. Like 20 and more. I haven’t yet reached 10. But if I want to play some decent racquetball and have a good laugh with the guys, this is pretty much the only game in town.

He knew we had to leave shortly after he got home from school. He had a smile on his face when he got off the bus and his feet barely touched the ground as he ran down the driveway. He asked me all kinds of questions on the drive out. After we arrived and I introduced him, one of the guys brought him to the bar and bought him chips and soda. They all cracked jokes and had him bug me with setup “inside-joke” questions while I was playing.

I played well, but we lost a close match. We finally got home a little after his bedtime so he sat with Mom and unwound for awhile. He finally stopped smiling when he fell asleep.