Category: Of Being Dad

Fatherly posts.

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Sarah did a doubletake!

Sarah is one of those "must contain all my emotion inside and always look morose" teenagers. She refuses to say "I love you" to anyone and conversation with the parents is totally uncool. Although I have minimized the amount of NPR listening when she is in the car I still force her to hear a little bit about what is happening in the world. She does her best to ignore me.

As I dropped her off at school this morning I chimed out, "Have a nice day Sarah! I love you!" then as she got out my autotomic brain spouted out, "Have a nice day Noah." Sarah had already begun closing the door and instead of running from the car as quickly as possible like normal, she stopped, turned back to car, opened the door and gave me the quirkiest look wordlessly declaring, "you are the craziest dad in the world!" then went off to school with a smile on her face.

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True Love – Speechless Communication

When Cathy and I were dating, I could read her mind. How connected! To know one another’s thoughts without speaking a word is bliss.

All married couples are familiar with this non-verbal communication. It changes a little after tying the knot. Ok, it changes a lot. For instance, when dating, I knew what Cathy needed. Now married, I simply know how angry she is with me.

The kids have a game called Punch Buggy. We archaic folk know it as Slug Bug and shun the unnecessary "no punch backs" childishness. Our most open communication comes through this game.

When things are hunky-dory
Cathy will call Slug Bug and the color and choose a child. No hit thrown of course. Occasionally, for balance, I receive a no hitter. And we all laugh.
I may have irritated Cathy or she has had a frustrating day
I get a light punch to the arm.
I said something stupid
I will feel a sting, still to the arm.
I directly confront her, maybe without substance
She stares into the parking lots like a hawk searching for a mouse and wallops me a good one possibly leaving a bruise. Any body part is fair game.
My very presence annoys her for no rationale reason
She will make up seeing a slug bug and magically find one of those Jedi nerve places bringing subtle tears to the corners of my eyes
I yell at a child, scare her, or momentarily forget where I am
She waits until we move to the back of the car, then she takes the tailgate and repeatedly slams it on my head. As I falter toward the ground she takes the baby from my hands and storms into Target with the other children leaving me bloody, dizzy, and barely standing in the parking lot. She never tells me the color of the Volkswagen.

Ah! Now that’s efficient communication.

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Hard Lessons

Sarah is the student council historian this year. So for her birthday, we got her a Kodak EasyShare Z730 camera. I am very impressed with the camera.

One of my mantras to the children that they hear moaned out several times a day is "Don’t put it down; put it away." Sarah does not follow this at all. Her world does not operate by our laws, our physics, nor our logic. And, she leaves droppings wherever she goes. If she visits a friend, socks, trinkets, school notes, or something will have to be picked up several days later.

She took pictures in art club after school yesterday. Art club is supposed to end at 4:45 and we picked her up at 5 (the time she always comes out of the building anyway). She had set her camera beside her stuff then picked up her stuff to rush out leaving the camera behind. She realized this 15 minutes later at Target. Since the school would have been locked up it made no sense to go back but I got her there early this morning.

Apparently she was the first into the classroom but no sign of the camera. The teacher doesn’t recall seeing it and it hasn’t appeared in lost and found. It may still turn up but, sadly, the odds are against it. What is worse, the list of suspects is small: custodial staff, the few remaining art club students, and teacher. It should be easily recovered.

I feel bad for Sarah. I grew up with a belief system of trust. I believe people should be trustable and honest. If I find money or something like a camera, I seek out the person that may have lost it. I try to do my part as a citizen. Yesterday as I parked at Target the lady with a child in the car beside me was unloading the last few items from her cart. I waited then asked if I could take her cart for her. It was the right thing to do. If a person took Sarah’s camera with no intent to return it, that would be the wrong thing to do. I only hope that this does not scar Sarah’s trust in people or influence to not do the right thing because she has been burned. I want her to care enough to take the person cart rather than declare it SEP.

Now, the angry dad in me wants to jump to conclusions, secure the school security tapes, and go after somebody.

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They are more important

I am so stressed over my work that my head feels like it is going to crack. Noah wants to make blueberry muffins. I can’t argue with that. I love blueberry muffins. However, poor Noah needs guidance. Lots of guidance. He gets priority.

If you haven’t had a 10 year old boy yet, their brains don’t work.

The cooking lessons are fun. I enjoy watching him go through discovery. This morning I have had questions like:

"What’s a muffin pan?"
"Where’s our can opener? How do I use it?"
After getting the mixing bowl, "Where can I get a bowl to put in the ingredients?"

I had no doubt that one or two of the eggs would splat on the floor. One did. Learning to crack and egg is scary. I feel bad for him. He will have to go to school before these are done. This child moves in slow motion!

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The Sound of Silence – Riiiiight

Programming is an art. Basically programming is mathematically solving complex logic problems that start out as word problems. That is why lateral thinkers make good programmers.

I have heard it stated that programming is 90% thinking and 10% coding. I am not sure if 90/10 is accurate but the concept is correct. To get your head around the problem, you have to be able to concentrate and sometimes for a long time. One disadvantage of working from home is finding long blocks of undisturbed time to concentrate and focus.

I used to have a Sony Discman (minidisc player) that was great for helping me block out ambiant noise (white noise drives me nuts) but it is gone or misplaced. I have often used ear plugs that cut noise down by about 20 decibals but I have lost ever single set. I would kill for a nice pair of noise reducing headphones. Of course, having a music source to plug those into would be even nicer.

In leu of all that, I will let Evan climb in my lap, listen to Amy’s shrill demands and shreaks, monitor the fights between the older children to decide when to intervene, listen to the dogs bark at unseen foes, hear the whine of the television and the hum of the refrigerator, heed my wife’s requests and listen closely to the words she does not speak, and between chaotic outbreaks I will slip in some coding enjoying the chaos and the logic.

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Cooking!

Dad: "Noah, what do you want for dinner?"
Noah: "Steak, taquitoes, or McDonald’s."
Dad: "Will you eat [fill in any fruit or vegetable here]?"
Noah: "No."

Dad: "Sarah, what do you want for dinner?"
Sarah: "I don’t know. Mac and cheese."
Dad: "Will you eat [fill in anything here]?"
Sarah, with disgust: "Well, nooo!"

Dad: "Tommy will you eat?"
Tommy: "As long as it isn’t spinach."

Dad: "Amy?"
Amy: "I’ll start with this then change my mind to that but I’m largely influenced by Sarah even though I really like to eat like Tommy."

Dad: "Evan?"
Evan: "Say it with me Dad.. Jugs! Oh, and pretty much anything Mom is trying to eat. Oh! Of course, I am 15 months and can clearly say ‘candy.’"

Dad: "Mom?"
Mom: "No onions! No peppers!"

Dad: "Self? Gourmet!"

In case you lost count, that’s roughly 3-5 different meals per sitting. We have dropped to least common denominator for so long that I have started to forget how to cook. The LCD? That would be chicken breast (plain), chicken nuggets (preferrably from McDs), spaghetti (but that leaves Noah with a peanut butter, maybe jelly, sandwich), steak, and hamburgers (but that leaves Sarah with ezmac).

I have decided to return to cooking. I am focusing on meals that create leftovers and hopefully satisfy a quorum but if the only people that eat are Cathy and I then so be it! The rule at this house is eat what everyone else is eatting or fix your own.

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Don’t treat the symptoms

Our society has a propensity to treat symptoms and not problems. Our commercials promote the quick fix. The prevalent attitudes toward recycling and environment show a tendency for thinking only about now. Even our government acts as if tomorrow does not matter.

Ocean Nasal Mist

A runny nose is a symptom, not the problem; however, our doctors are quick with antibiotics, and mothers rush to the pharmacy for an antihistamine. The runny nose is your body’s attempt to fix a problem. By drying up the symptom, we deminish the body’s natural ability to fight the problem.

Nose sprays are very effective at clearing up a running nose or opening blocked sinuses. When you feel congested there is nothing more relieving than to use some 4 Way Nasal Decongestant and moments later blow everything out to be able to breathe again. Nose sprays are also addictive. If you use too much, days after your cold is gone you can find yourself needing the nasal spray just to breathe. I try to limit myself to one squirt from a nasal spray per day and focus instead on a saline nasal spray. Ocean (manufacturer site) is a great product! The saline nasal spray keeps your nasal passages moisturized and helps minimize nasty stuff from coming out of your nose. Saline nasal sprays are not medicine like 4 Way or Afrin but a natural way to help your nose.

Evan has been fighting a cold and hates having his nose wiped. On a whim, I started giving him minor squirts of Ocean after cleaning his nose. He liked it! So much in fact that he fights the nose wipe less and asks for the Ocean. He helps me hold the bottle, leans his little head forward, directs it to the nostril, and smiles big when I squirt then he moves it to the other nostril and smiles more. Kids are a riot! Oh, and his nose is better for it.

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Late to school! Alzheimers warning signs.

I woke this morning at 7:10. The panic set in immediately. Noah had missed his bus! I rushed upstairs muttering, "where had Sunday gone?" I thought of the hellish schedule for today and how I had hoped to make a little progress on the client’s work Sunday. The construction project also had no changes from Saturday. I make mysef do something to it everyday. I guess Sunday had been too busy. I distinctly remember yesterday’s travels in the car, the trip to the grandparents to pick up the children. The quality time with Cathy during the day and in the evening. I guess Sunday was a good day and I will deal with today.

Noah is not in his room. He normally wakes me if I am not up. I guess he got himself to school. Sarah and Amy are missing! Oh. Wait a minute.Today is Sunday!

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Odd Ball Out in a Big Family

Target last night was quite the adventure. After leaving a stench in their bathroom we casually wrapped up our shopping by dividing and conquering. The bulk of the crew went for the remaining items and I headed to the pharmacy for their very cool prescription bottles. The crew joined me at the pharm and we played with the blood pressure test machine, laughed and shopped happily. At the checkouts, Cathy, Sarah, Amy, Evan and myself started the checkout process. Out of the blue, Noah appears behind us! "Uh. Were you going to leave without me?" Cathy replies, "yes!" We look at each other and laugh asking, "Did you know he was here?" to which we both replied, "I forgot."

There goes our shot at parents of the year! A big family teaches self-reliance and independence!

Update: Target provides 6 colors for their medicines which assumes you will never have a family larger than 7. The bottles could be improved for larger families by allowing more than one color ring per bottle or using some striped rings.

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Dear Target, sorry about the stink in the bathroom…

I love having a big family! Big families teach self-sufficiency and team work.

Last night in Target I heft Evan up on my shoulders as he giggles maliciously. Seconds later the smell hits me. That familiar smell of a runny diaper filled to capacity with sludge. Microseconds later he is off my shoulders and being held in that non-loving pose at the end of my outstretched arms using only my finger tips as if carrying hazardous waste all too aware that squeezing the diaper could make John Belushi’s zit seem tame.

I pass Noah playing demos in the video games. I speed past aisle after aisle knowing I could easily be walking right past Cathy and crew. Then I see a cute little Amy peek out. I alert Cathy that I must go to the car and she deftly produces "equipment" from her purse.

Wordlessly I grab the diaper and wipes and rush to the nearest restroom. One thing parenting has taught me is that stores abound with hidden restrooms. Some are singles; some are family; some are "employee only"; but if do not have children, these secret water closets are invisible to you! In Target, I was nearest the rear one located in toys. The men’s room is a single shooter graciously outfitted with a changing table with a broken safety belt. Not having the belt means one hand holds the baby, while another hand handles the wipes, another hand keeps the baby’s hands from helping, another hand removes the diaper, another hand guards the clothes from sliplage and overflow, two hands bag and seal the toxic waste, and two hands put the new diaper on the baby.

I plop Evan on the table and open the diaper. Huggies should be proud! Evan immediately goes for the flip and almost simultaneously throws in the helping hands. I am off to a bad start and recognizing I misjugded the diaper threat level I know I need reinforcements. Evan at this point is in full scream and sending a text message sos is out of the question. I dial Cathy’s number and put the phone down as I attempt to salvage the situation. Assuming I went to voicemail. I slap the phone shut, hit redial, and return to mud wrestling. Moments later, a 4 year old girl opens the men’s room door. Then a 13 year old girl opens it slight further. My reinforcements have arrived!

Suffice it to say that with Evan now outnumbered we won the battle with minimal damange. All hands, including Amy, pulled their weight. The 13 year old deserves a purple heart for casually stepping into the men’s room. From Cathy’s perspective, when the phone rang she could hear the baby screaming in stereo and knew to deploy the more mobile of reinforcements. Good choice on the special ops!

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Math is hard

One of the things The They don’t tell you is that as a parent you get to repeat school. You repeat it once for every child you have. I find it interesting to watch little minds grow. Concepts that are reflexive to us are foreign to them.

Today I wrote the number 1943 and asked Noah watch place each number occupied. 3, ones. 4, tens. 9, hundreds. 1, thousands. Then I added 1943.5 and asked about the 5. "That’s the oneths. No. Tenths." Good. So I added a 2 making the number 1943.52 and asked about the 5. "That’s the hundredths. The 2 is in the tenths." Hmmm. I add 7 making the number 1943.527 and asked about the 5. "The 5 is in the thousandths."

I started over putting only the 3 and he correctly identified it as the ones place. When I added the 4 for 43, the 3 remarkably remained in the ones place. Using this knowledge and some diagrams I think Noah finally got it. He correctly identified the 1/10s, the 1/100s places and so forth. Still, I think some reinforcement is in order.

I enjoy being a dad. I enjoy helping minds grow.

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Another reason to love Firefox

So I described a day in our lives. A highlight of Friday’s funnies was a sudden and dramatic power outage. I would say we had lightning very near the house. We lost the upstairs cable box (try living without your digital guide a couple of days! How 90s! How did we ever live before?) and my Linux server was scrambled (after reseting the cmos and some integrity checks, it lives again).

What does this have to do with Firefox? I had been on BusyMom’s site typing a long comment and was moving my mouse to press the post button when the power went out. When I restored all the machines my window came up with all my typing still in the form field. I believe I have SessionSaver .2 to thank for this!

I can’t wait to start making this house more self-sufficient regarding power.