Nobody Said It Was Easy

Fixin' a Drink in the Morning

A few months ago, I had a few people* ask me if I was still writing.  I said that I hadn't been, but should resume as it was something I really enjoyed doing.  They all agreed and indicated that they enjoyed reading my posts.  So here we are, two months later, as most good intentions take time to come to fruition.  Indeed I had started this post nearly three weeks ago before promptly abandoning it for things that seemed more pressing.

The fact that I haven't written much, if anything, over these past two years can certainly speak to an evolving state of my mental psyche when it comes to parenting, and my role as a parent as my kids have gotten older - something that is more apparent now that we are into the summer months.  While we've weathered these past 2+ years arguably better than 99% of other families, this is certainly not to say that it hasn't been hard.  And at times really hard.

For me, writing has always tended to be a cathartic experience that has undoubtedly helped me process my own parenting experience.  During a time when that parenting experience was seemingly most intense, with schools closed and the world in lockdown, this medium was probably one of the more constructive ways to channel frustration and joy, but sadly fell by the wayside, as I neglected to make it a priority.  As for many parents, these past 2+ years have certainly not been filled with my finest parenting moments.  But they have certainly contained a great many experiences from which I can learn and progress as a parent.  And if someone besides myself enjoys reading about my observations of those experiences, all the better.  

So where to begin, or resume if you will.  I'll try not to cram 2+ years of material into one piece, but if you are familiar with the blog, you know that I'm seldom at loss for excessive words.  Much has certainly changed from my initial days as a stay at home parent.  Our oldest finished fifth grade this past year and graduated from elementary school, and brought us into the world of pre-teendom we were hoping to avoid.  Our youngest, who was the catalyst for my stay-at-home adventure, finished first grade and has embraced the role of an angst ridden seven year old boy, complete with an emo haircut and currently sporting a sleeve of temporary tattoos.  And there is of course our not-to-be-forgotten spirited middle child, who finished third grade and we have realized is much easier to parent when she is not in the presence of her siblings.

Insert obligatory pondering of how my kids got so old.

Summer has always brought a unique set of opportunities for me as a stay-at-home parent.  As they've gotten older, they've come to rely on my less, which makes me wonder what my own expectations of myself should be as a parent.  Indeed as I write this, our oldest is making herself breakfast, a skill we've tried to impart on all of our kids over the past year, our middle is reading (something she and her older sister would do for hours on end), and our youngest is stacking pennies.  Of course our kids will have a myriad of activities that they will need to be chauffeured to this summer, which at times makes me feel like an unpaid Uber driver.  Admittedly as someone who tends to thrive on task completion, I at times enjoy my services being called upon.

I am also keen though on allowing my kids a healthy(?) amount of unstructured time.  Literally unplugging all of the devices and leaving them to their own devices.  My guilt instincts at times kick in, and I try to get them to do something academically stimulating, like a page or two of a Brainquest workbook or read in Spanish.  But after mentioning my inconsistent attempts to avoid the summer slide with my kids to one of the teachers at their school, and getting a very discernable eye roll indicating that my efforts were probably over the top, it has become less of a priority.  We typically try and fail regularly at instituting some amount of chores for them to do.

A few weeks into the summer we celebrated Father's Day, and like a number of of other dads, my entertainment was watching our girls dance in their final dance competition of the season.  My present could have easily been realizing the fact that after that day they would be finished dancing, even if just for a week.  It was fun though to be able to watch them engage in an activity that they are passionate about and that challenges them.  Our son started dance this past spring, so in the years to come they will all be able to get in on the fun.

While Father's Day is a time to celebrate father figures and shower them with well intentioned, if not odd gifts^, it can also be a chance for those of us who are father figures to reflect on our roles.  For if you weren't in that role, whether biologically or otherwise, you'd really have no reason to celebrate Father's Day. 

As a father, and parent in general, one of the greatest compliments I've received is when people (mainly adults) tell me that that they enjoy being around our kids, or that they appreciate the way we are raising our kids.  Yes, typically this comes from close friends or family, but when it comes from people whose opinions I value, it tends to carry an extra amount of significance.  It makes me think that we are getting this parenting thing "right", at least occasionally, and while realizing that the word "right" is incredibly subjective.

Now I certainly know how our kids can be.  They can be vastly different at school or in other social settings (typically much better behaved and more enjoyable to be around) than they are at home (whiny, cranky, and at times incredibly disrespectful).  In fact, over the past two years, as I've spent some time substitute teaching, some of my more enjoyable interactions with my own kids have been at school.  I'd much rather have it be this way than the inverse, but it can be undeniably exhausting.  No matter how much patience I have (and I have a lot of patience), I can only direct expletives at my kids in my head so many times before they actually come out in audible form.  

So while I don't actively seek the approval of others in my parenting philosophy (or I wouldn't admit that I do), hearing those compliments can provide a certain level of validation.  Particularly so because I like to think that I put a lot of intentionality into my approach to parenting.  I've read an excessive amount of books, articles and blogs about how to make sense of this emotional rollercoaster of a world that is parenthood.  The fact that I've spent time, albeit irregularly, writing about my parenting experience shows how I have a tendency to grapple with the bigger questions of parenting and raising offspring.  I take this intentional approach to try and be a parent that I believe my kids deserve, as well as one that I can be proud of.

My wife has told me before that it isn't always easy to parent with me.  I can't disagree with her statement, as I know I'm not always easy to even be around.  I'm cynical and sarcastic, at times pretentious, and often unmoved by other's opinions of me.  While single parenting, especially full time single parenting, is a Herculean effort, co-parenting can be fraught with its own levels of frustration and resentment.  Spirited discussions and disagreements over parenting styles and passed judgements on parenting decisions are to be expected.  Finding a balance between constructive and critical is fickle.

There is a certain amount of irony in my wife's observation though, as obviously I wouldn't be a father, nor one that contemplated how best to raise his children, if it wasn't for her and the subsequent children that she birthed.  I take a great many cues from my wife when it comes to parenting, because she is, without doubt, one of the most amazing moms I know.  As much as she might disagree, she pushes me to be a better parent.  One that is more actively engaged with the child rearing responsibilities.  Coincidentally this probably provides more opportunity to frustrate and annoy her.  I have gotten better at recognizing certain scenarios where I do have to check-out of parenting, and have been told, both by my wife and kids that I am typically more fun when I do this.

It was Father's Day, so of course I wasn't going to say no to ice cream.

This past spring I was able to gain a small amount of redemption on a masochistic event that I planned on doing three years ago.  After getting snowed out of a 50 mile endurance run, I was able to complete the 34 mile version of it back in April.  I've done a few different long distance endurance events; a couple of marathons as well as training for the 50 mile that didn't happen and my most recent irrational distance decision.  To me, long distance running (or biking or hiking or anything else that takes a long time and requires a certain amount of physical and mental fortitude) and parenting draw a lot of similar parallels.  But in particular they are about playing the long game.  Putting in the work, and a lot of it, to hopefully realize some desirable outcome later on.  Maybe after 18 hours of nonstop plodding along or after 18 years of parenting.

  

Your biggest fans are the ones who will encourage
you in your most irrational pursuits. 

In utltrarunning, as in parenting, that desirable outcome can look different for everyone.  One person will finish first, while the rest of us just hope to finish at all.  Depending on the course and conditions, that experience can vary greatly.  And despite your best efforts to train and prepare, injuries can beset you or unforeseen circumstances can hamper your progress.  All this applies to parenting as well, as there are a great many things that are beyond our control when it comes to raising our kids.  Despite your best efforts and best intentions, your kids can still be jerks at times - even royals aren't immune.

As parents were often told not to try and compare our kids to other kids, or ourselves to other parents.  It's sage advice, but a challenge given our comparative culture.  But while races, and even endurance runs ultimately have a winner, author, and self-described masochist, Brendan Leonard is quick to point out that the vast majority of people engaging in the irrational activity of endurance running aren't competing against each other, but rather against themselves.  To push their limits and be a better person at the end of whatever goal they have set out to accomplish, even if they feel like complete shit afterward.  

This is the approach I think we should take in parenting.  To strive to be a better parent today than we were yesterday.  And use what we learn today to hopefully be a better parent (and person) tomorrow.  We won't always succeed in doing this, and at times it might seem as though we are running in circles, chasing our tails.  But that doesn't negate the need to put in the effort.  We might receive accolades and encouragement for our efforts along the way, like you often do from spectators and aid station workers in a marathon or other long distance running event.  Ultimately though it's up to us to take ownership of the effort we put in to keep moving forward.  We've got important things still left to do.                       

  

     

*Yes, one was my Mom

^The oddest gift I overhead was a Shitake Mushroom growing kit.

I've Been Having Dreams

Bounce With Me, Bounce With Me

Parenting is an adventure in calculated risk taking.  It's playing the long game - sacrificing in the short term for a life filled with memories in old age.  Making decisions as a parent is often times centered around evaluating risk, as we have a tendency, particularly when our kids are young, to be the gatekeepers to how much danger our children are exposed to.  We know we can't keep them in a bubble, but we can limit their exposure to certain risk - secondhand smoke, excessive sugar, chemical pollutants, etc.     

At the beginning of March 2020 we started dog watching.  It was something suggested to us by some friends who have a dog, and observed how much they would periodically pay for someone to watch their dog.  Our kids would love a dog, but my wife and I have zero interest in having a pet.  Dog watching seemed like a nice compromise as the kids could get their animal fix on occasion and earn a little money that we could put into their college funds for taking care of the dogs.  

If you got a pet after having kids, you can undoubtedly guess what has transpired with this arrangement.  My wife and I do most all of the "taking care" of these dogs - waking up earlier than normal to let the dogs out, taking the dogs for walks, cleaning up the dog poop (both inside and outside of the house), and dealing with the local police when a dog we are watching decides to bite a neighbor. The kids on the other hand reap the benefits.  Mostly financial, but they also get someone to pet and cuddle with when they are having a moment.  After watching about 30+ dogs over the past year, our kids no longer have a desire for a full time pet, so our strategy has worked in some sense.

The financial benefit of watching dogs is the benefit that our kids have become most acutely aware of.  Whenever my wife or I check our various financial accounts, which we do with regularity because we're such nerds, our middle child is mildly obsessed with checking their "Rover Account".  I doubt it will cover their entire higher education experience, but if we continue to book at our current rate (which I hope we don't) it might get close.  The claim could be staked that our kids are learning that hard work can pay off, both intrinsically and monetarily.  However, it seems like they are more understanding the notion that if they shirk their duties, mom and dad will pick up the slack, and they'll still make out like bandits. 

Along with a wanting a pet (before dog watching) our kids have pined regularly for a trampoline.  After much deliberation, we decided that they could use some of their dog watching money to purchase one.  We hoped that showing them how much would be deducted from their ever-growing bank account to purchase the trampoline might ultimately deter them from wanting one.  It did not.  After a few days of diligent internet research, my wife narrowed the options down to a couple she felt most comfortable with, and allowed the kids to decided which one they wanted.  Upon placing the order, that same middle child inquired daily if there were any updates on the product shipping and expected arrival dates.*

I had a trampoline when I was younger, so I wasn't completely against the idea.  My sister and I begged my mom relentlessly to get one, and offered no financial help toward the purchase in attempt to sweeten the deal.  She relented eventually, with her one stipulation being that as soon as someone got hurt on it, it was going back.  We had it less than a week before my cousin put his knee through his mouth, requiring stitches.  Miraculously it stayed up in our backyard, where it served as an accomplice in a variety of other minor injuries.  

We survived our inaugural season with the trampoline, with no major injuries to speak of - I realize that by saying that we are destined for a major injury very soon.  The trampoline has become a microcosm for well intentioned parenting.  The rule that you can only jump when an adult is present is broken multiple times a day, with near zero effort toward enforcement.  The rule of only one jumper at a time has been extended to a solid half dozen on certain occasions.  Flips and acrobatic tricks are at times encouraged, applauded and critiqued with expectations of improvement.  Considering how long it took to assemble, the threat of taking it down due to improper use is as thinly veiled as most all of my other threats.

Jumping on a trampoline, like life, can be inherently dangerous, but also inherently fun and exhilarating, and if nothing else, exhausting.  Most injuries sustained from jumping on a trampoline are often a result of colliding with another jumper.  We can get hurt in life by others, often times colliding with differing opinions, attitudes or expectations.  Before trampolines came with the ubiquitous nets surrounding the jumping space to prevent people from falling off, injuries were often sustained when jumpers were propelled from the trampoline and made audible contact with the ground.  People can even get hurt when jumping by themselves, as recommended, if they are engaging in acrobatics that are strongly discouraged but look awesome.  In life we can get hurt by taking on too much, even if we think we are capable of sticking the landing.

For all its inherent danger, there are a number of things I appreciate about the trampoline, beyond the numerous life metaphors it allows me to ponder.  I like that it keeps my kids active.  After the first day of using it, our kids were absolutely exhausted.  The trampoline entices them to be outside and physically active.  In reality, I'd rather have them sustain a broken bone from a trampoline than their brains turning to mush by sitting inside all day staring at a screen.  

I also appreciate how it seems to help them with their coordination and learning about the physical capabilities of their bodies.  Having spent a bit of time in various elementary classrooms this year, I am amazed at the number of times I have watched kids fall over for no apparent reason.  Sometimes while they've been sitting.  To some degree the trampoline helps to teach them about the limits of their own physical capabilities, something my 38 year old self doesn't always remember (especially when I use the trampoline).

Unfortunately, we didn't make it through 2021 without a broken bone, but this one was not attributable to the trampoline.  A few days before the end of the year, and one day before we were supposed to embark on a ski trip to Montana, our 7 year old took a tumble while skiing at our local hill and broke his collarbone.  It was an injury we didn't realize at the time - we brought him in two days later after we noticed some swelling in his shoulder.  It was also a reminder that injuries can happen in all sorts of places.  Given his propensity to spend as much time as he can in the terrain park throwing himself repeatedly off of any jump he can find, this fall happened somewhat benignly on the bunny hill when he caught on edge.  He even admitted he was probably going too fast.

It was a sobering moment as a parent - recognizing that an activity that you exposed your children to, and one that they'd seemingly taken to without much challenge was the cause of a potentially preventable injury.  But I also realize that my sister broke her arm as a young child just by jumping down the stairs (not being pushed by her younger brother, as she conveniently told my parents at the time).  I also have felt fortunate that to have learned that if your child is going to break a bone, the collarbone seems pretty minor.  Of course our Montana trip had to be postponed, for that and other reasons, and that ultimately lead to larger healthy related challenges that I'll expand on later.

We all have a certainly level of risk actualization, and this is developed based on our given experiences with certain types and amounts of risk.  Letting your kids engage in activities like jumping on a trampoline or downhill skiing might certainly increase their risks of breaking bones or other other maladies.  You can institute certain risk minimization strategies - helmets wearing, rule abiding (when convenient for you), and other measures of supervision - but you can't guarantee that trouble won't find them eventually.  If you are okay with excepting the potential consequences of those risks that you allow your kids to be exposed to, or even intentionally expose them to, then I think you are doing your job as a parent.

And of course we all make mistakes, as parents, as employees, as people in general.  Learning from those mistakes, to hopefully avoid repetition, is a sure fire sign of maturation in my view.  And it's a lesson that I hope to impart as much as possible on my own kids, so that they can understand how to learn from their own mistakes, and avoid similar mishaps in the future.  Admittedly, the amount of learning from their mistakes seems to have an inverse correlation to the number of times they behave in risky behavior and suffer significant consequences.  Or, in plain-speak, they could jump on the trampoline every day and never break a bone.  And then might make mistake after mistake and never learn their lesson.  But just as that one inadvertent fall that precipitates and ER trip, that one lesson learned from thousands of mistakes can have profound significance.     

              

   

*She also did this with the "Pop It" that my wife agreed to order her last week (using money from our daughter's bank account).