An Open Letter to New Born Babies-Why Obama’s Presidency is Special

Dear Babies,

First, welcome to all the babies born today! It is a very special day for most of us. And you too!! Hopefully in your future, you will wonder why we made such a big fuss over “your birthday.”

Barack Obama, an African American will become our 44th president. What is remarkable about this is? ….well, simply that. Also he may be the first president to be called the “n” word. What is the “N” word?” Never mind. What’s really important is it means any baby-brown, yellow, black, able or disabled, male or female,gay or straight(not sure how many of you know yet about the gay-straight thing) can reallistically strive to be whatever they want to be.

You hopefully won’t understand this, but for most of us, we bought into the idea that only certain people could be President, or part of “his” inner circle. And so we kept nominating and electing the same types of people over and over.

And as you will learn, some have defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results. Well this time, we considered different choices and we had different results. And we have a cabinet that reflects options for all of you new borns.

Baby, you really can be whatever you want. So learn from President Obama, and aim for the moon, and shoot for the stars.

Sincerely,
From those of us,
who gave up on dreams and settled for status quo.

What do you think of Obama’s Mother in Law Moving to the White House?

It is official, Mrs. Robison, Michelle Obama’s mother will move into the
White House. I didn’t know what to think of this until I read the
N. Y. Times story about it.

It appears she is a strong woman with her own opinions on how things
should be. She disagrees with the Obama’s decision to put their kids to
bed at 8:30 p.m. and to limit the amount of television they watch. When
it comes to eating, she likes her fried foood with salt. “If you’re going to
have fried chicken,” she said, “have fried chicken.”

I like her. And I like the way the Obama’s are truly living out the idea of
“family values.” To me, this decision conveys the message that it is
Ok to value our elderly relatives. Too often, our culture is about sending
the elderly away, rather than inviting them into our lives and working
with them.

Moreover they are communicating that simply not agreeing with a mother
in law or elderly family member is not reason enough to avoid them. As
the population in this country ages, we need more creative ways to deal
with the elderly, And this intergenerational model may offer us one alternative
to nursing homes.

So cheers, “here’s to you Mrs. Robinson.”

What about making 1 Apology as your New Years Resolution?

I read an article about New Years resolutions today. Its usually the same content the papers have every year about peoples desire to lose weight and stop smoking. In fact, it is so redundant, they could print the same article every year and I doubt anyone would notice the difference.

So I thought to myself, why not simplify this, and come up with one small goal that most of us could achieve- An apology-amends-an I’m sorry to one person in your life.

For those of you, who don’t have much experience doing this, let me explain. Identify someone you believe you have hurt with your words or actions, seek them out, and either write, email, call, or talk in person to them. Simply state the following, “I’m sorry for___________.

Some of you are probably saying, “but he/she did this to me…will they apologize for what they did….It”s not fair that I have to…what if they tell me what I lousy person I am and pile it on because I owned up to being at fault…will this be an admission of guilt? Blah, Blah, Blaah, Blah. Bullsh5$@^t!

Don’t complicate this. Just find a friend, lover, colleague, family member, store clerk-anyone you believe deserves an apology from you because of something you said or did. But what if I can’t come up with anyone? How will I know if I owe an apology? Here are some examples.

Did you lie, yell, blame, judge, criticize, shame, steal, mistreat physically, verbally, or emotionally, effect another person in a way that made them feel like a bad person? If the answer is yes, apologize. Ok, you want more specific examples.

If you yelled at your kid and he freaked out; If you called your significant other names; If you blamed someone else at work for your mistake- If you come up with ideas, then attempt to justify it as not really being something worthy of an apology-then it qualifies for an apology.

I believe it is an attainable goal for the new year. I’d like to hear examples of what others might apologize for.

Can you still feel the Christmas Spirit?

Christmas is overwhelming for me. I experience so much pressure to buy or give, and yet it can feel pretty forced. So the spirit of giving happens spontaneously, it means more to me. So here is my experience of the magic of Christmas.

Last Sunday, it was about -4 degrees in the city. We had been in the house all day. So my wife and oldest son decided to go for a short walk around the block, while I stayed and played with my younger son. Shortly after leaving the house, the door bell rang. It was my wife and son. “We need some muscle to move a car,” she said.

A twenty something year old boy living at a place called, “Artist in Residence” was trying to get his car out of a snow packed parking spot. So we rocked his car, told him not to burn so much rubber, and eventually got him back on the road. It felt like the right thing to do. And I liked that our son experienced the moment.

On Monday, my wife called me at work. “You remember the artist with the skull & crossbones on his car-the one we pushed out of the snow? He left us a box of choclates with a note to the family that went out of its way to help me out.”

It was a complete surprise. To me, it combines the message of Christmas. You give to others with the nothing more than the best of intentions and then you move on. And sometimes, when you least expect it, something good comes back your way.

Will you buy the “Snuggie” or “Slanket” for Someone You Love?

I laugh every time I see the advertisement for the “snuggie.”I don’t know
if it is the images and voice overs that makes it funny or simply the product.
So when I went to review it on youtube, I was pleasantly surprised to see
a number of paraodies, such as the “the cult of Snuggie.” Also I happened
upon another product, the “Slanket.”

I laughed so hard at the images of this guy at a baseball game with his
“slanket” on. I have no idea whether the “slanket” exists or not. But I love
the name of the product.

So as our nation appears to be falling on hard times, we are seeking some
comfort. However not in the form of a hug from another human being,
but rather in a blanket with sleeves. Hopefully four of them will be waiting
on Pennsylvania Avenune to welcome the President Elect and his family.

The “Slanket?”

The Cult of Snuggie:

How to Talk to Your Kids about Drugs…if You did drugs

I recently saw this advertisement in the New York Time. The head line was,
“How to talk to your kids about drugs if you did drugs. It was a full page
ad sponsored by the Partnersip for a Drug-Free America. You probably
remember the “this is your brain…this is your brain on drugs” campaign.
On balance, I tend to think they offer the best in public health messages.
But this message was unique.

This puts responsibility on the parents to work with their children to
prevent drug and alcohol abuse. One way is to help parents to overcome their
own ambivalence about being confronted with questions about their own
drug and alcohol history. This is in great contrast to prior messages,
that hope children or teens will simply say “no.”

Since the holidays are a time when families come together, it’s also a time
when drug and alcohol abuse tend to increase. Therefore it seems like a
good time to consider having a talk with your kids. And in order to help us do
so, the Partnership for a Drug Free America offers some guidance.

1.) This isn’t about you.

2) Think about how much your kids wants or needs to know. The fact
is we can all say too much.

3) Many experts suggest giving an honest answer or none at all.

4) Avoid giving your child more information than they have asked for.

5) Say what you mean to say, don’t beat around the bush “I don’t want
you to use drugs.”

6) Share what you’ve learned from your experience with drugs.

7) Try connecting around the reasons you might have used, such as,
“I thought I needed to use to fit in..It took me awhile to realize it wasn’t a
good reason.

8) Everyone makes mistakes, and trying drugs was a mistake I made. I love
you to much to watch you repeat bad decisions I made.

9)I wanted to share my experience with you, because even if drugs didn’t
ruin my life, I’ve seen them ruin other people’s lives.

10) Ask what they think. Keep asking questions and keep listening to
the answers.

11) Stay Calm. Try not to raise your voice. It’s ok to admit these conversations
aren’t easy for you either.

12) If you’re nervous, don’t put off having the conversation. This isn’t
about your past. It’s about your child’s future.

For more information, go to drugfree.org
Don\'t be a Patsy

Would you feel comfortable working in someone else’s home?

While typing this, one of the men working in our house, asked me a question which I couldn’t answer. He and his partner are walking around my house in their socks, as though they live here shouting to one another in Albanian. It made me wonder about people who make a living doing work in people’s homes.

Don’t get me wrong, I understand that people need money. Moreover people need to work where they can find employment. However I don’t think everyone is cut out for working in someones home. I think it would be hard to meld into someone else’s world, if only for a short period of time.

I’m always amused by how many people prepare their homes for the coming of the cleaning lady. And once the cleaning begins, I’m not sure who is more concerned about the house us or the cleaning lady. It’s like we have to remind ourselves she is working for us.

Baby sitters are like this too. They come to take care of the kids and then after awhile, they are snuggling up on the couch with a blanket over them or enjoying dinner with the kids. I don’t really mind it, but I do find it amusing and curious. I don’t know that I could blend in so well into someones  home. But these people hang out, enjoy our space as if it is their own, do their job and then leave. And with babysitters, it seems like many of them find it hard to leave once they’ve set down roots in the house.

What kind of person is drawn to connecting with another family so intimately and why? I smile wondering if we’ll soon get into fightswith the plumbers, babysitters, or cleanning lady over what show to watch on the tv.

In search of Thanksgiving Traditions

Thanksgiving is one of those holidays I struggle with. I like the idea of it, but have difficulty with the realty of it. Perhaps it has something to do with us being a relatively small family, but I’ve been to larger functions that don’t feel right either.

In my mind, we’re supposed to have loads of people, lots of food, and kids everywhere. And it should not be quiet. People should be talking, laughing, and generally getting along. In realty, we usually have more food than we need. And it often feels like we are milling about the house or watching tv, waiting for dinner. Some of us participate by peeling potatoes, while others do the serious cooking. Actually, I don’t mind peeling potatoes.

My favorite part of thanksgiving has been the gratitude list. We hang a big sheet of white butcher paper on the wall and people share whatever they are grateful for. Its not unusual to read about candy, politics, family members alive and dead, tv shows, games, and more. Also I’ve enjoyed going to the parade with the kids. One year, we met some foreign students visiting the city and invited them to join our celebration. I liked the randomness of that experience.

As I write, I see what I want to build from. It is important to me that the kids experience something special whether we have 7 people or 27 people. I’m thinking of going to a church service, maybe stop by a museum for the kids, and even going out for a meal. I think since I’m not bound by rigid holiday traditions, I’m still in search of pieces of the Thanksgiving puzzle that feel right.

Do you remember Hardrock, Coco, and Joe?..aka Barack, Hillary, and Joe?

When I heard that Obama was considering Hillary as Secretary of State, my mind started thinking about how Obam, Hillary and Joe will work together. At that point, I heard the tune to ‘l’m Hardrock, I’m Coco, I’m Joe.” I thought Barack would likely be Hardrock. Though its a stretch, I’d pick Hillary for Hardrock and Joe Biden for Joe. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NT5Ohgl7eTM

If you’ve never heard of Hardrock, Coco, and Joe, then you were not watching morning tv as a child in the Midwest. It was not uncommon to see these guys sing on cold winter mornings until Christmas. This was before cable and the land of a thousand channels. So snuggle up with some hot coco and jam to Hardrock, Coco, and Joe

Have you taken your kid to ComedySportz4Kids yet?

My son asked me for some one on one time. I took a pass on some work I had to do and decided to make the most of this opportunity. For all the things we are scheduled to do, it felt good to have some unstructured time together with him. My wife suggested a movie, but G rated movies are hard to find. So I stumbled on to a link that led me to ComedySportz4kids. I love improvisational theater and want to expose my kids to it, so  I went for it.

I kept it a surprise. We took the train into the city for the 2:00p.m. show. It was $8.00 to get in. It was satisfying watching his nearly seven year old mind trying to figure out where we were. As we sat outside the main entrance, a group of thirteen boys came in for a birthday party. I momentarily feared it would be us and a group of kids all together. But then other kids came with their parents.

They led us into the intimate theater. We sat in the front row, though there didn’t appear to be any bad seats. . Two of the three performers came around in a red shirt and a blue shirt to get ideas from the kids for the show. They seemed quite comfortable being around kids and engaging kids. The kids ranged in age from as young as about 4-10.

The whole show involved the the red and blue guy and a man who played the coach. They found a way to include the kids ideas and more importantly the kids into the experience. My son was a part of a farm animal orchestra. Also he had a song improvised about his name. The performers made a whole scene with songs about a girl in attendance based on limited information she provided about herself. The performers succeeded at giving the kids room to be silly, loud, and very active.

It was a very fun time. We talked and laughed about it the whole way home.

Can you imagine being invited to Sasha or Malia Obamas birthday party?

I know everyone is talking about the big inauguration bash for Obama in January. And there is no doubt that this will be a hard ticket to get and valuable one to have. But I think there is an invitation  more valuable than that- an invite to Sasha or Malia’s first birthday party.

Can you imagine receiving the little birthday card in the shape of the White House? Inside you’d see their hand writing inviting your kids to the birthday party in the red room? It would be one of those parties you’d most definitely want to attend, even if it is a drop off.

Perhaps upon entering the party, the kids could do a limbo under the security screening wands. Can you imagine a round of hide and seek in the White House? This could be followed up with a race up to the top of the Grand staircase. What kid wouldn’t want to play pinata in the Oval office?  Who wants to play musical chairs in the Cabinet room? And before cake, how about a game of egg toss in the China Room!

Most likely, the White House kitchen staff would prepare pizza and a cake in the shape of President Obama. I guess if they wanted to be silly, they could use the old mold of George Bush looking like Alfre E. Neuman on the cover of Mad magazine. And perhaps the girls could have their friends sleep over in the Lincoln and Queen bedrooms. Can’t you just picture the girls singing Hannah Montana songs talking about which Washington page is cute, gay, or a nerd.

As the evening gets later, can’t you just picture the President shouting,”Sasha,  Malia, its time to go to bed NOW! They’d likely giggle and try to show off to their friends, “Ok Mr. President.”

Are peanut allergies creating segregation in the schools?

My son is in first grade. He loves it. He brings his lunch to school. One day, he was complaining about something I put in his lunchbox. I suggested he try what I remembered doing, which was trade what he didn’t like with another kid. He immediately cut me off, “we’re not allowed to trade.” And then my wife chimed in, “because of allergies.”

I think of myself as pretty open minded, but in all honesty, this bugged me. I don’t know why. Perhaps I felt like others were intruding on my memories and the opportunity to share them with my son. It happened another day when I made him a peanut butter and honey sand which. “Dad, I can’t bring that to school, because one of the kids is allergic to peanut butter,” my son said. “You mean you can’t eat a peanut butter sandwhich in school?” I asked in a tone clearly suggesting I was annoyed. Fortunately, when I spoke to the teacher she informed me it was Ok if he sat at the peanut butter table.

So just when it appears we have opened up as a nation in our support for Barack Obama, segregation in the schools continues between the peanut butter eaters and the just say no to peanut butter people. If you are thinking I need to read the latest research on peanut allergies or see a kid suffering with it, don’t bother. I’ve already had that happen when I’ve expressed what I’m writing. I thought we were entitled to freedom of speech, even on sensitive matters like peanut allergies.

I’m not disputing the evidence or the realty of the allergies, but I am saying it makes me wonder about the hundreds of kids I knew as a child. How did those kids manage? Did anyone know? Has anyone gone back long after childhood and sought reparations from Skippy or Jiffy peanut butter as other victims/survivors have?

In some ways, if I was told children have bologne or headcheese allergies, I’d probably have an easier time understanding their struggle.

How much candy will you buy for Halloween?

We went to the grocery store and stocked up on candy for the big day. We live in one of those hit or miss streets. Some years we are flooded with ghosts, goblins, and presidential candidates and then other years hardly a bell gets rung.

So its always a quandary buying candy. Should we buy with the kids in mind or ourselves? Should we go for bulk or mix and match? If we don’t want to get tempted then tootsie rolls and Dots are a good investment. However if we indulge in Whoppers, Snickers or M&M’s, then the hope is that the kids don’t show up, which means more for us.

Another question to consider is whether you are happier distributing the candy or receiving it. Personally, I enjoy watching my kids load up on candy more than I enjoy waiting around to answer the doorbell. I don’t know why but I can’t stand the experience of getting up, answering the door and passing out candy. I know some people enjoy seeing how cute kids are in their costumes-not me. I guess I’m a curmudgeon when it comes to Halloween.

I think there is something about knowing that teens are going to be joining in on the festivities. And they often come to the door with a mask in hand and shaving cream on their coats simply to collect some fuel before egging your house. I think their hyped teenage energy freaks me out. I really think Halloween should be restricted to kids under 10. If you can grow facial hair, you shouldn’t be knocking on doors asking for candy.

To address this concern of mine, I was thinking about hiring a homeless guy to sit on the porch with or without costume to scare the kids and distribute candy. Isn’t that the point of Halloween?

How many car magnets do you have on your car right now?

If you have kids and drive to place kids go such as schools, parks, PumpitUp or CHuckee Cheese, you are bound to see cars with magnets on them. It is not unusual to see a car with 3-5 magnets or more. The days of “Baby on Board” suction signs on the back window are over. For instance, we have a soccer ball, my sons school, Obama-Biden, and AYSO. I noticed my younger sons school recently started selling magnets. So thats sure to make the bumper soon. When did this magnet craze take off?

Don’t get me wrong, its definitely better than living with the long term ugliness of bumper stickers, but it seems to me like its starting to go overboard. Like so many products in America, it starts out looking good and making sense. And then everyone wants one for everything.

If you are reading this, I’d be curious how many car magnets you have. If you are single, or don’t have kids, do you have magnets too?

Brosse a’ Dents Pour Chats?…… A Cat Toothbrush for Ed and Gogurt?

Let me begin by saying, we have two cats, Ed and Gogurt. Ed is a 16 lb fur ball of love. He is more of a thinker than a doer. He is more prone to stretch out and nap on the treadmill than use it. Gogurt is a spunky, curious kitten with “catitude”. He perches himself on the stairway banister, jumps in the tub just as the shower is about to come, and snoozes in the napkin basket. They are an important part of our family.

We take them into the vet for their scheduled visits. I find the whole experience of watching people and their pets interact in the waiting room quite amusing. But what I find even more amazing is hearing the vets tell us all the things we “must” do for the cats. The most recent being, “brush their teeth.”

I have a hard enough time getting my sons to brush and now I ‘ve got to deal with Ed and Gogurt? The vet gave us a Cat Toothbrush or Brosse a’ Dents Pour Chats. And some poultry flavored toothpaste. The Virbac corporation who makes this product suggests the following about the toothpaste; “good to chew, better to rinse, best to brush!” Why would I do this? Because they suggest it is for ” fresh breath, cleaner teeth and better health for your pet.” I won’t even tell you about flossing.

I love Ed and Gogurt, but I can’t honestly say their breath is a big concern. I’m frankly more concerned about cats who smell like chicken. 

I’m including this because the vet demonstrates how to brush your cats teeth. Is it me or does this vet look like a cat? http://www.youtube.com/watch? Itv=wyudvKceI4A

Stop Using The ” To Spend More Time With Family”excuse

 How many times do we have to hear fallen leaders say, “I’m stepping down so I can spend more time with my family.  Lets be truthful, most of the time, they are being asked to leave or step down due to a scandal or failure to accomplish their established goals. But instead of saying, “I was hired and paid a boatload of money to do a job, which I tried, but could not do-so I’ve been asked to leave. And considering that I will still make more in stock options, investments, and benefits than most people on the planet, this seems reasonable. And by the way, I’m sorry I could not live up to expectations. But I’m going to get another chance and when I do, I intend to hit a homerun, thanks.”

There is no need to bring your family or kids into this. No one believes you really want to spend more time with your kids. More likely, people are wondering why you want us to believe you are some dedicated family man. It often sounds to me like these guys, and more often than not are men, are so ready to use their kids and familys to save their buts. But when business is booming and they are the toast of the town, do they care about their kids as much?

I know you are going to tell me they don’t have time. Everyone wants to be with their kids, but how are you supposed to do that and provide them the best money can buy. How about asking yourself: how do you make time for the healthclub? golf? business lunches? after dinner drinks? long days and nights of travel for work? I know its what pays the bills, and it leaves no time for anything else.But I don’t buy it.

First of all, whatever these guys have done, didn’t work for them or the business they were in wouldn’t have asked them to leave. So what about a different model. What if these guys spent 50 minutes a week with each kid doing something the kid suggests doing, instead of sending the kid to a shrink for once or twice a week treatment. That 50 minutes will add up over time, kind of like dollar cost averaging. Over time, it increases, and at some point, compound interest or in the case of kids, increased trust in you will kick in.

So I am asking for a new mantra. If you’re not spending time with your kids before you get fired, don’t try to evoke our understanding for your new found interest in them after you’re canned.

The similarities between Ferdinand the Bull and 4 y.o. soccer players

My four year old has started in a beginning soccer class at the Y. They teach them basic skills for thirty minutes and then play a game for thirty. They play three on three. It is like watching an episode of three stooges.  If you are lucky, they score a goal……..in the wrong net!

They tend to mentally move in and out of the game. Its not unusual to see a kid stop by a parent and get a hug.  J likes to wave at us as the ball rolls by him. If one child falls, the other “stooges” do the same to act silly. The game moves at a slow pace because the ball is constantly out of bounds and/or the ref is blowing his whistle to stop the game.

At times the kids remind me of Ferdinand, the bull who was more interested in smelling flowers than being a mean bull. And then its as if a light bulb goes off for just a minute or two and someone realizes they can score a goal. And when someone scores, all the other kids come out of their trance because they hear all the families cheer.

And of course, once the game is over-its time to get ready for to go to my older sons game. 

Walking in my sons shoes

Yesterday I went looking for a pair of sneakers for myself. I invited Ry to join me and promised I’d find him a pair too. Needless to say, most of the time was spent on him. I focused on price and familiar brands,like Nike, New Balance, or Adiddas. He immediately gravitated towards these black sneakers with puffy tongues, red soles, and skeletons on the side. It was an interesting moment in our relationships.

On one hand, I didn’t like the way the shoes looked and I was clear about that. And he was able to pretend like he was going to vomit when I pointed him towards traditional brands. I challenged him, “are you going to really wear those things or complain about them when we get home?” “I love them. I will wear them.” “Well lets run across the street and see what other choices DSW had. I was hoping to distract him.

I diverted him with shoes at Marshalls. For a moment, he considered Ben 10 shoes and then nixed the idea. So we looked for a pair for me. He seemed to enjoy playing shoe salesman and carrying boxes of shoes in my size. He used his persuasive powers to get me to buy the adult version of his skull shoes and a host of other shoes I’d never wear.

I was most impressed that he identified a pair of shoes that he liked, not ones that we wanted him to wear. The last time I did this, we bought him a pair of Vans slip-ons with flames running through them. In the end, we didn’t find shoes for me and bought the World shoes for him. Despite our differences, I really enjoy seeing how excited he is to show everyone we know his shoes.

My wife has made it a point to tell everyone that “his father let him buy those.”

Isn’t going to the zoo about seeing the animals?

J, my 4 y.o. wanted us to go to the zoo. I promised I’d follow his lead on this adventure. So this meant, we took a train, a very delayed train, to a stop near the zoo. And then I gave him a piggyback ride for  about 8 blocks till we got to the zoo. He was excited about going into an indoor climbing structure for young kids. Only this afternoon, it was actually more about kids climbing on top of one another. So he expressed concerns about the big kids and we checked out the beavers. Actually, I did. He kept dragging me to see the gorillas.

We took a short cut through the Lion house, and saw a leopard and a tiger. I was trying to get a little excitement out of him by pointing at the tiger. But in truth, he was more interested in the colorful camera booth. I just couldn’t justify $5.00 for stickers with us surrounded by animals on it. Not yet, at least. We did see the apes playing outside, eating grass. But he reacted more like, “yawn-been there, done that.” I thought he would be more excited if we went indoors, but as we approached the door, a sign indicated the Ape house  was closed. So, he advocated for us getting a snack.

At that point, I surrendered. I bought him a Sponge Bob Popsicles. It was made with a mix of cotton candy, fruit flavoring and gum balls. I tried to comfort  myself that it was only 14 grams of sugar for all that crapt. So we sat together in this empty cafeteria listening to a baby howling in the distance. And then it was off to the gift shop for an alligator flashlight. At which point, he informed he was ready to go. So we got some popcorn for the road, and waited for the bus.

As we sat there, a thirty something, slightly chubby, caucasin man with gold wire rim glasses parted  wet, blondish hair, clean clothes and a soft voice, showed us the soft “cuddly”  tiger he purchased  “for his niece. ” And then ranted about the prices at the zoo.

He’s the kind of guy who could pass for normal, until you realize his poor social skills. Like he doesn’t know how to interact in a conversation, but could talk endlessly, if no one interrupted.  He told, J to listen to his dad. Having just seen the movie, “Taxi Driver” the night before, I didn’t want to risk the possibility of some crazy out of control lunatic jumping out of his skin. So I held J, and read another gross story about the Rugrats. 

As the bus approached,   the man got on the bus and looked like he waiting for us to join him; I said,…..It’s too crowded, we’re waiting for the next one.

How we fixed those scratchy CD’s?

My sons are part of the CD baby generation. We’ve been making CD’s for them since they were infants. Once however, they learned how to use the boombox, our CD’s have been fast forwarded, flipped out of the box, stepped on, and tossed around. It reminds me of the old Samsonite luggage commercial where the suitcases have been placed in a cage with gorillas. Unfortunately, unlike Samsonite or Timex, our CD’s take a licking and don’t keep on ticking. And like the sound of nails on a chalkboard, I hate the experience of songs skipping or jumping around mid verse.

So I called my resident music expert. You know the guy who knows everything about all types of music. The guy who actually owned a record store for many years-the guru of music. “What do I do about the scratchy CD’s-oh wise one?” He paused, closed his eyes, took a deep breath and said, “Windex.” “Did I hear you right-Windex?”  He simply shook his head in that all knowing way.

From then on, we have saved or at least been able to extend the life of our CD’s with Windex. Simply spray it on and then re-play the CD. It was as remarkable as learning the magic of DW-40 and crayon marks. Unfamiliar with that parental tip, read earlier blogs.

Have You Used Your Kids Baby Wipes?

I realize I’m treading on a touchy subject, but for those of you with children, I’m sure you will understand.

Its about that pivotal moment after you’ve finished doing your business in the bathroom. You glance over with hardly a thought at the roll of toilet paper hanging there looking like a bureacrat that realizes you have no choice but to take what is given to you. It looks at you in disgust, “take it, I said take it!!”

You hang your head in shame, as you go to angrily yank a sheet when your eyes notice a colorful red container with the words, “Huggies Clean Team.” Like a super hero to the rescue, the Huggies clean team is there to save you.  At first, you smile and think of your kid. You think of the joy its brought your child followed by the pain and suffering you’ve experienced with paper rolls. And then it happens.

You pick up the box and notice the colorful letters painted on it,”m” for “molly cleans up and  “d” for daphne’s deep sea adventure. You look around to see if anyone is looking, as if anyone would….and then you slowly press the red button and up pops a wet one. Its that easy. There it is, like ecstacy for your bottom. You say,”f*#kit.”Within minutes, you wonder to yourself, why have I suffered with paper rolls for so long. So you kick back, light up a cigarette and download stories from huggiescleanteam.com.

Why not use Halloween to teach your kids about money and finance?

As a parent, I’ve learned that I am constantly afforded the opportunity to teach my sons. Some refer to this as “teachable moments.” Recently Ry paged through a Halloween costume magazine and declared, “I want to buy Bloody Bones!!”

Bloody Bones is a costume that is equipped with a device that lets you squirt blood for $29.99 and for $6.00 more, you can purchase the cycle. Without a doubt, I was reluctant to consider this. He then boasted with his nearly 7 year old understanding of math, ” I have enough money to buy it.”  At this point, the light went off.

I encouraged him to consider all of the costumes and let me know in a day or two whether he was sure about this item. He then acknowledged some interest in Yosemite Sam, Wiley Coyote, or Foghorn Leghorn. I suggested he research these options. He did this and concluded he still wanted to be Bloody Bones. I told him he had to consider not only the cost of the costume and cycle, but tax, and delivery. I agreed to pay for half of the costumre and taxes, if he came up with the balance. He quickly counted his cash and handed it over. We then looked at the cost of shipping. We deliberated over the cost of 3 day shipping ($14.00) over 7 day general delivery, ($7.95).

He was willing to pay for 3 day shipping and he did. Before ordering the costume, I had him sign a note that indicated he freely made the selection for this costume and delivery date. And it concluded with a statement of understanding that whether the costume is exactly what he thought it was or not, the money will not be returned and it is his forever. I struggled between feeling guilty for taking his money and proud for having him make the decision and learn from the experience.

And then the financial bailout issue emerged followed by the 700+ drop on Wall Street. That only confirmed for me that I’d like him to learn to be responsible about his financial choices and the possible consequences of those choices. I anticipate the next lesson will be teaching him how to sell “Bloody Bones” on EBay once he is bored with it.

A grown man buying Candy Corn?

I’m tired of ranting about Wall Street. I need to address bigger personal concerns. For the last several weeks, I have purchased bags of Candy Corn. I feel like I am in a regressed fog. I feel the need to explain the purchase to the cashier. I’ve already taught my sons how to make fangs with it. I’ve been sucked into the Halloween vortex. The other day I had to ask my wife if Halloween was the end of September or October-it must have been a candy corn hang over. When she reminded me we had a whole month to go, I couldn’t believe it. I knew something had to stop. So I purchased a child size milk carton of “whoppers.”

Should I teach my kid about TGIF?

Last Friday, I saw my tired nearly 7 year old struggle to get to get out of bed, to put his clothes on, make it to breakfast, and hang on till he could brush his teeth and get out the door to first grade. And then it occurred to me, he was partly tired because this was his first 8:30 am to 3:15 school week. He made it. I put my arms around him and said, “TGIF.”  “What’s TGIF dad?” he asked. At that moment, I wasn’t sure if I was amused at the concept of “thank God it’s Friday” or depressed. This is just the beginning. How many more Fridays will be thought of as “TGIF” or Wednesdays as “hump days.”

Let’s think about the implied meaning behind “TGIF” and “Humpday.” Aren’t we saying that most days of the week are a pain, a downer, simply something we have to get through in order to make it to “Humpday” and “TGIF?” Imagine being a kid full of life, excited about everything he hears, sees, touches and smells and then hearing that not so subtle message that most of life is one big pain in the ass, but we all go through it for a paycheck and the weekend. Insert song, “Everybody’s working for the weekend…”

Do teenage boys still feel anxious about buying a condem?

While I was walking through Walgreens drug store looking for some cough syrup, I noticed the mega boxes of condoms. I couldn’t help thinking about how times have changed. Are young boys being deprived of that awkward moment of asking the pharmacist for a condem? Has that rite of passage been put to rest? Does the pharmacist even matter in the equation? It appears you just grab one of these monster size boxes and go up to the register…and pray they don’t need a price check.

I imagine there are enterprising young boys who buy these Costco size condem boxes and then sell them individually for a profit. Clearly there could be some advantages to not having to face an adult and buy a condem. However, what would it say to your peers if you only bought one condem.? So you’d probably have to purchase at least a half a dozen to keep up the perception that you are a stallion. And after a short time, they’d have to buy more in order to keep up the perception they’re having sex, even if the condems are rotting away in their wallet or being used in water balloon fights. Move over lemonade stand…hello condem stand !

Who came up with the idea of paying a kid for losing a tooth?

It finally happened, my kid lost his first tooth. God, was he excited. I think he had felt like a leper for not losing any teeth in kindergarten. I sensed him feeling the Olympic tension in the room as each child would come in, annouce to the world that they lost a tooth, and then go up to the teacher and receive their plastic tooth case for the tooth. It killed him to not receive one. As I mentioned in earlier posts, his teacher reassured him, he could return in first grade to collect his case. And as it turns out, he will return today to meet his new teacher and collect on his tooth.

I for one am still somewhat unclear about the origins of the tradition. It seems like an odd way to celebrate the loss of a tooth. It sounds like a bad government program. Actually, it is more like a special deal the local pawn shop, currency exchange, or loan shop might offer. In addition, I could envision the mafia using a tooth for cash program as an incentive for its younger members. But for the rest of us, it seems rather strange.

As my wife and I were pondering the pressure on a kid to lose that first tooth, it led me to wondering about the going rate for a lost tooth. She indicated that the tooth fairy dropped a $5.00 bill on a couple of his friends. I was shocked! How does the tooth fairy afford this? Should all teeth be worth the same? I can see the top two collecting a 5 spot, but the lower teeth can’t be worth more than a buck a piece. And does the tooth fairy take the tooth or leave it.

My kid wanted the tooth fairy to leave the tooth, so we put in a request that he not take the tooth, but leave some money. So he could bring the tooth to school and cash in there. I’m starting to wonder what it would be worth on ebay. Didn’t I read about a guy who started out with a paperclip and ended up with a house in Canada?

Do you recall your kids first reaction to a “happy meal?”

There is no doubt that kids can be an advertisers best friend. How many times has your kid watched a show, only to later request a certain type of cereal that you don’t like. For some odd reason, I was also remembering how kids can be a nightmare for advertisers because they haven’t been fully programmed to act without thinking.

Today, I recalled one of the first times I took my son to McDonalds. I proudly ordered him a “happy meal.” I waited for that look of excitement because it was a “happy meal.” But he didn’t know what that was or what it meant. So he ate some of the food, examined the toy inside, and then seemed to be thinking about the experience. His first response to it was, “dad, do they also have sad meals?”

After reflecting on what a perfectly obvious but bright question that was, I was tempted to respond, “son, the happy meal is just that…..a sad meal.”

Why doesn’t anyone prepare you for the number of birthday parties you will attend?

I just returned from a 4 year old birthday party. While there, I was thinking someone should warn you at the birth of your child that you will be consuming more cake and pizza than you can envision for the next 7-10 years. In other words, either take up running to work it off or start buying pants a few inches bigger. Better yet, some financial institution should come up with some type of fund, similar to a college fund that you can start to prepare for the cost of birthday parties over the next 7-10 years.  I had no idea what I was getting into. No one told me the days of “pin the tail on the donkey” and ” musical chairs” in your house was over. I had no idea that parents would have “to rent” facilities for parties.

No doubt, I’m old school when it comes to birthday parties. In my mind, a cake, a few presents, family, and a couple of friends would do the trick. And in fact, if this industry was built with the kid in mind, this would be enough. What may have started as a way to give the parents a break appears to have turned into a competition between parents for the best birthday party.

Ed the Cat “Pawslaps” and Gogurt the Kitten has “Cattitude”

As many of you know from reading previous blog entries. We went through a vigorous search and find mission before we adopted Ed the cat from Paws, Chicago. Ed has been with us for several months now and can best be described as a “fat cat.” He has a fondness for food. No one is quite certain how he got so big. Perhaps we are all in denial and will soon be going Catovereaters anonymous (COA). He is cuddly. He still purrs when he plops on your lap. He likes to join my wife and I in bed. In fact, he makes for a rather comfy pillow. And then there is Gogurt.

Gogurt has what I like to call “catitude.” He greets Ed by jumping on him trying to get him to play. And true to Ed’s cool cat ways, he “pawslaps” Gogurt and then licks him clean. Gogurt is like the kid who is excited by just hearing you’re going to the amusement park. But what surprises everyone is how much Gogurt lets Ry and J pick him up, cradle him, and hug him. He seems to intuit that the intention is good even if the style may be awkward.

There is talk of bringing one more kitten into the house once Gogurt gets big..hopefully just not quite as big as Ed.

How would you respond if the police caught the guy who robbed you?

If you have been following this blog, you know that our family was robbed during father’s day weekend. You can read about it on my June 15, 2008 posting, “How do you make your kids feel safe after you’ve been robbed?” It was to say the least a tumultuous time.  As I wrote back then, the hardest aspect of it was talking to my sons about it. It was the moment where the safe world we had created for them was tested.

Today, I received a call from the detective handling the case that the robber has been caught, and will likely go to jail. He is a 48 year old man with a history of burglaries. It appears he robs to support his drug habbit. He had hit numerous apartments and homes in the community.  They followed him and he was caught in the act of attempting to rob.

It doesn’t change the fact that my sons are more aware that robbers are not just make believe. It doesn’t bring back my things or the money shelled out to repair things. It doesn’t change the anger, helplessness, and frustration I felt. It doesn’t change the fact that we painted  and drew on the 2×4’s on the door to make it seem less sterile and cold. It doesn’t change the excitement of winning the fathers day basketball tournament. And it simply doesn’t change the fact that we let go and moved on with our life as a family. For all it doesn’t do, one thing it does do for me is give me some actual closure.

It quiets that little part of me that wonders or thinks about it from time to time. It puts that nagging piece of the story to rest. And for that, I’m grateful.

Am I less of a parent for exposing my kid to Rocky and the Karate Kid before Harry Potter?

As parents, I believe we are continuously confronted with opportunities to question whether we’ve done as much as we could for our kids. For me, this often comes in the question of whether I’ve exposed my kids to enough good reading material. My wife has often joked about the fact that our sons could not tell you anything about Harry Potter but ask them to tell you about Rocky or the Karate Kid and they’ll go on and on. I think my kids are pretty bright, so when I hear that their peers are “so into Harry Potter,” I begin to wonder what makes a 6 or 4 year old that into Harry Potter. In fact, I wonder if they are into Harry Potter or if it is simply more enjoyable for the parents.

When the boys hear the “Gonna Fly Now” theme on one of the homemade kids CD’s, they always ask to hear the Rocky story. J usually has a question about “cuff and link,” the turtles. And when we get to the top of the Philedelphia museum, Ry often wants to hear about the Karate Kid. In my best Mr. Miyagi voice, I say, “wax on-wax off.” And then, I’ll switch to a stern Mr. Miyagi, “no! Daniel son…wax on…wax off.”

The most recent form of scholastic advancement has come in the form of the Green Hornet and Kato. As I write, I’m thinking of the cadence of the story, “If you give a pig a pancake.” If you expose a boy to Kato, then you have to tell him about Bruce Lee. If you tell him about Bruce Lee, he’ll want you to show him Youtube clips of Bruce confronting many bad guys by himself. If you show him Bruce in action, then he’ll want you  to tell him about other lesser known heroes of that era, including “super chicken.” If you tell him about “superchicken,” he’ll want you to stop and read to him about a giving a pig a pancake.

Just when you were about to give up on summer festivals

Today, we shook up some routines and went to a community outdoor festival. We let the van sit in the drive way and took the bus, which the boys were excited about. On our way there, I was feeling lukewarm about going. I’ve been to so many outdoor festivals that are very crowded, loud, and generally a pain. Let’s put it this way, I spend most of the time trying to chat and then turning my head saying, “where’s Ry or J?” But today was different.

We went to the Raven festival. It was only $5.00. The crowd was modest. The volunteers were friendly and helpful. They had inflatable rides and a climbing wall that the boys could go on over and over. The face painters took their time to turn my sons into cute little dogs.There was a nice selection of music to listen to. There were places to sit in the shade. They even had pony rides, albeit, very short rides-but it was a nice touch. And most importantly, they had clean, usable porta-potty’s. I’d never actually used a clean one before.

At one point, my wife and I sat under a tent and let the boys roam around the event. While we live in a major metropolitan city, it felt like we were in a small town. In fact, after getting a snack, I called my wife over because the boys were on stage singing with some other kids. It was my first time seeing J on stage. I think he may return there again.

When enough was enough, we were on our way. J was on my back. My wife had the backpack which contained the beach ball, soccer ball, and key chain from State Farm; the self made buttons from Whole Foods; lollipops from the Catholic school; tattoos from the public school; and a red and yellow balloon from a small bank hung from the back of the pack. And then we ended the afternoon as the boys wanted, we took the train. For more information, http://www.RavenChicago.com

How important is a good pediatrician?

 I remember the nurses and hospital staff asking us who was going to be our doctor. We had been given the name of a pediatrician. And we were told he was good, although the person who referred him  to us was going with someone else. I had no idea at the time that we would become so dependent on him throughout at least the next seven years. In the midst of thinking about so many other things like having a safe delivery and a healthy baby, it is easy to forget about a pediatrician.

He has been a very tuned in and compassionate doctor towards our sons. After our toddler son had swallowed a small twig, which had to be plucked out with special tongs; the doctor took extra care to make sure there was ample follow up. When my son fractured his ankle and the emergency room x-rays didn’t show a break and our son was too young to speak; our doctor examined him further and specified where the x-ray techs should take a picture. In addition, he has always been playful with the boys. He’d shine a light and ask them to see the moon. He’d make train sounds and engage them in a way that had them asking for the same experience during the next appointment.

As a parent, it feels good to have a pediatrician who seems to care for our children above and beyond what is necessary. Today, I had to go in for a check up and bumped into the doctor. He could have simply waved or said hello. But he came over and asked, “how’s  J doing? Is his cough getting better.” Given the number of kids he sees in a week, it really touched me that he cared enough about our son to check in.

Could you turn down the chance to coach your kid’s team?

When I signed up Ry for soccer, a volunteer asked if anyone would be willing to help with coaching. Since this meant you could move up in the line, I thought why not. So I volunteered myself and my wife to be assistant coaches for u-8 soccer. The AYSO people told me I didn’t need to know or be an expert at soccer because its still about teaching kids good sportsmanship. Initially my wife reacted by shouting, “you volunteered us for what?!” I reassured her it was no big deal.

And then the emails started coming about volunteer meetings, coaching guidelines, schedules and I said to myself, “you signed us up to do what?!” I honestly don’t know squat about soccer other than kick the ball in the goal. I feel I can help of group of seven year old boys to work together. So I’ve been scowering the internet for simple games and drills to help them. If there are people reading this that have tips for a virgin coach with no idea what to do, I’d welcome the help. I’m so uncertain of myself in the role, that I offered to take the least athletic kids…in other words, the future leaders of the world. I may as well get on their good side when they’re young.

Has the olympics made it into your living room yet?

I thought it would be a good idea to have the boys watch some of the Olympics while we wait for their aunt to arrive. As they watched the highlights of the boxing matches, Ry left the room to look for boxing gloves. He came back with big red “pillow punchers” and worn out green “hulk hands.” And then he and J started to box. It was a little different than the Olympics. There was more stop and start due to a hard punch. And many more stops to say,” hey he hit me too hard.” It soon turned into kick boxing and tackle boxing. J the four year old did most of it to his big brother. Ry, on the other hand, did most of the laughing as it was happening. And then it was time for a break, followed by the whine, “I don’t wana watch Olympics. Let’s watch Wonder Pets.” At which point, I came in here to write.

How important is a backpack to your child?

Ry is entering first grade this fall. And like most other years, I expected he would request and need a new backpack. What I didn’t expect was he’d want a plain backpack. This meant no Sponge Bob, Car figures, or media creations on his back. I didn’t really believe he’d follow through on this. And yet on Saturday, while buying his mom a birthday gift, I offered to look at backpacks with him.

He appeared most interested in the number of pockets and zippers available. He noticed the array of comic charactors, but he was not interested. He spotted a totes back pack with zippers, drink holders, and ample room, but we decided to check out a few more at another store. At Filenes, we hit the jackpot. There was a nice selection. He carefully dissected the bright yellow Addidas pack compared it to the Jansport and then tried them on. He opted for Adiddas, but noticed subtle but differences in color and features. Before making the final decision, we put his mom’s box in the back pack, along with the Sponge Bob umbrella, and found a cap to put in, and lastly put his flip flops where his shoes could go. And the ultimate test, “how does it feel and does it fit?”  He walked about the store, looked good, felt good….we had a winner!

The 3 Stooges-Is it a guy thing?

We let Ry stay up later than usual to watch the Olympics. In an effort to avoid the commercials, my wife switched channels during commercials. While she successfully avoided the advertisements, she introduced my son to “the three stooges.” The program was entitled, “stoogapalooza.” I watched with great enjoyment as I saw his eyes widen as he witnessed “Curly” making his “knyuk,knyuk ” sound or his arm fly across his face, or his legs do the “Curly shuffle.” It was one of those moments, where I felt like God was looking out for me when he gave me boys.” We laughed as the Stooges poked, prodded, and pulled hair.

After Ry went to bed, my wife continued to ask me what makes these guys so funny. How do you “explain” the three Stooges. The next day, the boys went swimming with their Uncle and Ry immediately wanted to tell him about Larry, Moe and Curly. My brother laughed and told them, “I’ve never met a woman who enjoys them. It appears to be a guy thing. I think he’s right.

Getting the boys involved on Mom’s birthday

We celebrated my wife’s birthday today. It was important to me to get the boys involved in thinking about and celebrating their mothers birthday.

So yesterday, they worked on some home made cards and beaded her a necklace and wrist bracelet. They were made with the finest pipe cleaner we could find. I then spent some time with Ry, my oldest son. We went downtown, and bought her some Clinique products she likes. He got to choose some of the items. Today, J, my 4 year old and I went looking for cake and flowers. I let him pick the cake. It was a challenge to not overly direct him away from the “power rangers, spider-man, Cubs, or Hannah Montana cakes.

He went for a simple cake, which we could write on. And then I let him help with picking flowers. This time, he wanted the dozen roses. How was I to know he’d have expensive taste when it came to flowers! We set it all up in Ry’s room. I made us a feast of chicken nuggetts, fish sticks, and salad. After eating, we marched in with J presenting her with the homemade cards and jewelery, Ry presenting the box of Clinique products, and I brought the roses and cake. From the response we received, it appears it was just right.

Would creating a blog with a kid qualify as arts&crafts?

It’s 8:48 p.m. and the boys are in bed, not necessarily asleep. I can hear a Junie B Jones podcast coming from J’s room and a Homer podcast coming from Ry’s. Homer is like listening to Opie talk about Mayberry. J has gotten up 3 times to poop or pee. No word from Ry yet.

I created a kid blog with him tonight. He chose the title, colors, and wrote a very short tale. We then identified some u-tube videos. These included images of the “Who,” as they smashed their guitars. For some reason, I recently exposed them to Herb Alpert’s “Tijuana Taxi.” So it made the mix. But the big hit was old looney tune cartoons of Foghorn Leghorn.

His uncle had given him a book about looney tunes. He took it on our vacation and engaged everyone he met in a contest of naming the various characters. Most of us recognized Foghorn Leghorn, but struggled to remember his name. In fact, it took a total stranger overhearing my sons efforts to identify the oversized rooster that led to an answer. The next most difficult one was Speedy Gonzalez and Pepe Le Peu. This didn’t go anywhere near where I thought it was going, so I’ll end.

Did your parents do the best they could? Have you?

I am not one of those people who believes “your parents did the best they could.” Therefore when I decided to have kids, the bar was set pretty high. For the most part, I feel pretty good about how I’ve been as a parent. But the other day, my son made me doubt myself and empathize with my own parents.

Ry just returned from a sports themed birthday party. He came home feeling excited about football because people noticed how well he threw a spiral. So he wanted to go to the park and show me. I was quite impressed. For a 6 year old, he looked very good to me. He however was tired and focused on his difficulty catching and how other kids are better at baseball than he is.
I kept trying to point out how well I thought he played in a variety of sports, but he was not in place to hear any of it. He felt bad and wanted me to get it.

And I started to doubt myself. I thought it was great we could expose him to a variety of sports through play and classes. In fact, this was not something I had growing up and wished I had. When I realized I wanted him to feel happy and excited about all he could do at six, I failed to realize this was not the standard he was applying. In his six year old world, he feels he should master everything all his friends do.

It all sounded so familiar. My parents wanted me to be happy with the life they provided me, but I saw all of the additional possibilities for play, camp, and school that they didn’t. They felt good about the options they provided for me that they didn’t have. But I was starting life with a different benchmarks than them, which is what my kid seems to be going through.

It was humbling for me to accept that as much as I want to be a better parent, a different parent…in some ways, I’m confronting the same challenges they faced. And will probably have to answer the same questions from my sons.

Family Road trip-rest stops, “cont brkfst,” and “waffle off”-yahoo!

The bags are packed. The DVDs and Cd’s have been collected because we will be leaving soon.  We will drive 19-20 hours with our six and three year old boys. We will begin with tremendous optimism about the journey. And then15 minutes into the trip, the boys will shout, “why we aren’t at Grandma’s house yet?”

We will begin with healthy snacks, a clean car, bottled water, and fresh fruit. Eventually, we’ll tire out and settle  Paul Newman salads and fajita wraps at Mc Donald’s. We’ll even keep our spirits up after a night of negotiating sleep at the Comfort Inn. And comment on how clean they keep the waffle makers due to “Waffle Off.” What you may ask is “Waffle Off?” It is a spray used to clean off the waffle makers in between uses at the “Cont Breakfast,” (continental breakfast.) I’m still unclear as to which continent eats this way.

And then there will be time with extended family. Some of which will include the necessary chatter, and discussion of what “we have to do.” Only to be followed by the conversations in private about why we have to do what they want. And just when it seems like we can’t have one more family meal, ice cream, or hot dog on a hot bench with flys near by , its time to head back on the road.

But now, we’re tired. All the videos and DVDs are no longer exciting. One traffic jam seems like one too many. The empathy you felt for “that poor driver” on the way there, turns into,”for crisake, get off the road!” And about now, the food goes downhill. You go to Bob Evans for the sausages and biscuits, start drinking serious quantities of Big Gulps from 7-11, and the fruit has to come from unatural food sources; “sour apple, grape, and fruity” flavored gum, cereal and treats. And then its time for one more night at a motel.

This time, its the one off the highway. The one with the really, really, really, long drive way to the Days Inn. Most of the other guests are truckers. The place usually looks like it was painted over many, many times as part of its effort to upgrade. The lobby entrance is a mix of low lighting and the blue bouncing off of the tv screen. The plants are fake with a coating of dust.

It’s the kind of motel where they provide you with an iron door stop to keep out the riff raff. The air conditioning is always a bit too cold and loud. The floral prints have turned to weed prints. Most of the caulk in the bath has peeled away. They don’t even bother letting you know that the bathroom was cleaned. And while they provide you a supply of towels, everyone you open up appears to be a hand towel. You want to complain, but by the time you figure you’re way around the maze of a motel, it will be morning.

And when you wake up, you aren’t sure whether the place is better in the day or at night. The cleaning staff looks like local high school drop outs or goths who got a job there because it was the best one in town. You want to sleep. Your body aches. You feel stuffy. You want a glass of water, but the glass looks a bit tinted from overuse and rusty water. You don’t want to turn the shower to “H” for cold and “C” for hot. But you know if you miss breakfast hours, there is no make up policy. So you dragged the family down there.

You sit and listen to truckers compare road tales. Despite swearing off excessive carbohydrates, you are forced to eat white bread, powdered donuts, Frosted Flakes, and drink coffee with Creamer packets. The place is so far down the motel totem pole, they don’t even have “waffle off.” Only then, do you realize how good you had it. The dining room is basically 10 card tables and some black chairs with minor rips and stuffing peeking out. You have to wonder if its even worth eating there and then its back on that long, long, long drive way.

Every rest stop feels like a burden. By now, the car is on cruise control and basically the kids are driving and drinking Mountain Dew. The rest stops all look the same because, well, they are all the same. Your legs feel like lead weights from sitting so long. And then for awhile you are cruising. You feel like you are almost home, but there is a festival or its a weekend or people are leaving work, so you inch along, listening to the same songs. The kids can’t watch Cars or the Incredibles one more time. And then, you make the turn into the garage.

The house feels stuffy. The big pack of mail is waiting for you. The microwave lights are blinking because the power went out for awhile while you were away. The laundry sits in a mountainous pile. You take a hot shower. The air conditioning starts to kick in. You watch a show you’ve been missing and then………….. fall asleep……. during the best part.

Sunday before the road trip

We have spent most of the day preparing for our road trip/vacation. We will load up the Honda Odyssey and drive for 19-20 hours. J and I went to Best Buy to get some of the essentials: batteries, CD player/headphones and Ipod radio transformer. We couldn’t leave there without J needing to watch with amazement as some kid was using Guitar Hero. I’m not sure I get it. And then as we checked out, I didn’t know how the checkout guy could seriously ask me if I want to buy insurance for a $19.00 CD player. Do people really do that?

When I came home, Ry and I played the basketball game, H O R S E.  He seemed to enjoy making silly sounds and dance movements as a part of any shot he attempted. When J joined us,  we changed the game to S A N D S K I N K, since he just learned about them in his ecology camp. The boys then lined up multiple squirt guns: the blaster, old school guns, sword like squirters, and a pirates head squirter. They were planning on a squirt gun rematch with their Uncle. And then the teenager next door stopped by because he was locked out, and he got the water party started.

The yard is trashed. There are a various assortment of squirt guns and pails scattered around. My sons are soaked to the bone literally. I feel like such a grown up. While my older brother, the teenager next door and my sons were getting soaked, I was working with my neighbor to cut down branches and dead trees. Actually, I was watching and trying not to get in the way as he sawed away and removed trees over the garage and in the back of the yard. For some reason, I often find myself surrounded by people that know more than me about “what to do.” Therefore I’m often the guy standing near by, agreeing, or engaging them in conversation while they do the work.

It’s funny, but I’ve often felt bad or ashamed that I’m not “Mr. know it all.” You know the guy who always has a better way to do it, or makes comments when you try to do it, like, “what you really should do is,” or” you don’t want to get to close to that wire, maybe I ought to do it.” This is the first time it has occurred to me that the price I’ve paid to get other people to do my work for me is to engage them in some dialogue about themselves. It’s cheaper than getting a handyman.

Late night snacks with the kids

Mondays are my late night. When I come home, I expect to let the babysitter go home, and finish putting Ry to bed. J should be in a deep sleep by then. As I said, this is what should happen. Tonight when I came home, Ry ran up to me, and gave me a hug-a hug, that suggested he wanted something from me, more than an “oh I’m really glad to see you” hug.  I coughed. And then I heard J pull extra hard on his door to open it and then he jumped on me. And as I walked the sitter downstairs, the boys indicated they were hungry. However when I tried to find out what they wanted to eat, they were hugging Ed the cat and Gogurt the kitten.

So I lined up three bowls of cereal and waited for the additional late night requests. The truth is I just don’t have it in me after a long day at work to become strict dad. Also I’m glad I get to hang with them for awhile before they go to bed. Their late night excitement led to a request for candy- I said ,”no.” And then, some cookies, I said”no.” And finally, “a little watching.” I gave them my pat late night answer, “if you finish your flossing, brushing, and rinse, you can watch a few minutes of the Electric Company.

They would never pick the Electric Company over something “On Demand.” But when the choice is Electric or nothing, they’ll gladly join Morgan Freeman, Rita Moreno, Bill Cosby, Irene kara and the rest of the cast. And then, its time to put out the light.

How do you respond when a kid..parent makes a mistake?

As a parent, it is easy to identify what our kids are not doing correctly, how they “should” do something or to be frustrated when they make mistakes. When I was a kid, if you made a mistake, it appeared parents felt it was imperative to make you feel ashamed or to blame you. It didn’t seem to matter what the actual mistake was nor where you were at developmentally.

So with our kids, we try to soften the blow. In fact, there have been moments, where I’m both surprised and amused to hear J say, ” Dada, you know what we say when we make mistakes…..yeah for mistakes.” It came from more of a wish on our parts to allow them room to feel like mistakes are a part of learning. However my inner cynic needs to point out, this is not something that either my wife nor I have truly come to internalize. We are more likely to convey a mixed message of “holy crapt, you did what!!!…I mean Yeah for mistakes..”

On Friday, I was feeling productive. So I decided to clean the Honda Odyssey rugs. I did a pretty thorough job. However since my wife and I were leaving for a short trip, I thought I’d put the rugs back in the van, even though, they weren’t fully dry. A little voice inside my head said, open the windows, let them dry some more. I ignored the voice.

So today, I told my wife I was going to put one of the rugs, which had been out to dry, in the van, before we load up the boys for camp. When I opened the door, the van stunk. It was damp and musty. But I thought I could cover up the smell. It took the boys coming in and saying,”oooooooh what’s that smell” and racing out of the car for me to accept it really stunk.

And then I heard, “mom, Honda really stinks.” Internally, I felt myself regress to a kid preparing to be scolded for making a mistake. She came in, clearly trying not to say anything as her face contorted this way and that. We opened up the windows to air it out. She acknowledged that she had wanted to tell me to leave the rugs out and didn’t. And as they all switched cars and went in the smaller Nissan sentra, I stayed and tried to turn up the air conditioning, and air out the car. And then I smiled, laughed to myself and said, “yeah for mistakes.”

Justin Roberts Concert

This is the first time I’ve used this blog to promote a musician, but Justin Roberts has been an important part of our journey with our boys. We were first introduced to him at a benefit concert for Ry and J’s pre-school. We’ve been listening to him and attending his concerts ever since. He has enjoyed a rise in popularity since then, so his name may not be new to you. But I received an email from him and his people with a list of upcoming concerts. And since I don’t know how to directly link him to this blog, I’m going to provide you with his email address. Check it out and definitely attend one of his concerts if he is in your area. http://www.justinrobertsmusic.com.

Movie Night: The Indian in the Cupboard

It was movie night once again, and our On Demand selection was “The Indian in the Cupboard.” This is one of those movies that I’ve seen trailers for over the years, but never thought I’d see it. The choice was between this and “Babe.”

In the movie, the main character is given a cupboard for his birthday and a skeleton key for it. He soon discovers that when he puts one of his toy Indians in there, closes the door and opens it with his key, it becomes real.

The movie was engaging enough for all of us to sit through it. I asked the boys what they would put in it. Ry selected one of his hot wheel cars. J wanted his stuffed animal in there. My mind went in the direction of Monopoly. I’d start inserting Park Avenue, and then all of the cash, turn the key, yeah..gas money.

When you’re kid is ready to take the big plunge, before you are-it requires a leap of faith

I believe it is important for our boys to try a variety of experiences out especially at young ages. Moreover, I believe that part of this process includes learning the joy of mastering something and the frustration that comes with making mistakes and needing to work harder. There are times however when I struggle between wanting to support their desire to try something with my concern that they may be getting in over their heads.

On Saturday, we went to an outdoor swimming facilities. It was the Cadillac of swimming pools. They had water slides, Olympic size pool, kiddie pools, and everything water based in between. But more importantly they had diving boards. Ry, who is still working at improving his swimming was intrigued by the board. He indicated he wanted to jump off of the board. I was not certain this would be the best idea, but I agreed he could go for it.

We waited with some family friends as bigger boys flipped, flopped, and twisted their bodies off of the board into the pool. And then Ry took his 6 year old self and carefully walked to the end of the board, looked out at us, and simply jumped, plunged, and safely rose up, and dog paddled to the side. After a round of congratulations, he was ready for a few more jumps. And then,” hey dad, I’d like to jump from the high dive.” Gulp.

I really struggled over whether to stop him or not. He slowly climbed, climbed, climbed, and climbed till he reached the top. He slowly walked the plank, till he reached the end. Our friend chuckled and remarked, “did you see him, he just mouthed the words WOW.” He looked forward, looked back, and then…he turned around and walked down, down, down, down, the stairs. When I told him I was proud of his decision, he looked confused. I said I’m glad you knew yourself enough to know you weren’t ready to go rather than jumping out of concern for what others would think.

When You’re kid is missing- A minute can seem like a long time

It was July 4, 2008. We attended the firework ceremony near the lake. It was dark, but the beach was filled with many families. Ry had some colorful lights and his buddy had a bright light on his head, so I wasn’t worried about finding them. I had Ry give J one of his lights, so we’d know where he was too. I told J, “stay with Ry.” I could see Ry and his buddy were excited to be out late at night and running on the beach. At one point, I could see they were in a race towards us. “Where’s J?,” I asked.

Next thing I know I was looking for a 4 year old in a burgundy hoodie at night. And then I hear some girls calling out my name, I walk over. ” Are you J’s dad?” “Yes, where’s J?” He just left with his mother. I saw my wife and asked “where’s J?” She hadn’t seen him. At that moment, I started to worry.

As I walked around, people would say, “he went that way.” I wished he had stopped in one spot. The more people told me which way he went, the more I wished someone had helped him stay in one spot. And then we spotted our friend in a bright white shirt, and she had J with her. We hugged him,told him we loved him, and tried to sort out the details.

It appears he was not on his own for long. Another mom had given him to our friend. And that person kept an eye on our friend, till she believed J was with his parents. I was impressed that J had the instincts to tell some girls about the age of our babysitters my name. I was grateful our friend was there. But that minute or two sure felt like hours till he was in our arms.

One car seat-2 boys- A lesson in Supply and Demand

I am not a student of economics. However I understand the basic concept of supply and demand. Specifically if there is a limited supply of something and many people want it, its perceived value increases. What you may ask does this have to do with parenting or my relationship to my two sons? Let me explain.

We currently have two vehicles: a Honda Odyssey and a Nissan Sentra. However we only have 3 booster seats. A booster seat is one of those items you need to have, but if you loan it to someone who is going to drive your kid or if you leave it in the other car, your going to have that moment where you say to yourself, “sh.t!! I don’t have the car seat. The solution is simple, buy another car seat-right?

As you read this, the solution seems obvious. But trust me when you are in the day to day drive your kid to camp, get groceries, go to the doctor, take care of the house and yard-getting a car seat doesn’t usually rank in the top 10 on the “to do” list. And then there is the issue of how much are you going to have to pay for just one car seat. And then my wife will suggest, “why don’t you stop by a thrift store and get one?”

At this time in my life, I hate going in thrift stores. I hate the chaos, the smell, the leftover pieces of others peoples lives.  It is no longer a romanticized experience for me. So last Friday, I picked up Ry from camp and went to Target and found an$18.00 car seat. Target was created for those of us who don’t want to pay exorbitant prices, can’t stand Sears, and don’t want garage sale items. It’s not too expensive and looks good enough to make you feel like you are still doing OK.

We put the Cosco car seat together quickly and easily in front of Target. Ry instantly wanted to try it out. It is black with a burgandy stripe in the center, with modest black cushion arm rests, with a cup holder on the side. Ry immediately noted how comfortable it was. I knew at that moment that I had to declare,”this is a family car seat.” This way he or J or a friend could use it. 

Ry wanted to bring thecosco car seat  box into the house. J was curious about the mysterious box with a car seat on the outside. Ry announced, “I got a new car seat.” J replied,” hey thats not fair!”  I added, “Ry didn’t get a car seat. It’s an extra one that anyone can use. In fact I plan on using it on the next ride.” This usually breaks the tension till we went for a ride.

Ry raced for the Honda and had to sit in the new car seat. J shouted,”that’s not fair.” Their mom replied, “you get it on the way back.” And now despite having four car seats, every car ride begins with a negotiation to sit in this black car seat with a wide burgendy stripe down the center, followed by ” I get the car seat.” ” Ok,but I get it on the way home.

What did the vet say about Gogurt the kitten?

When we adopted Gogurt the kitten from Paws, Chicago, they told us that he had been taking an anti-bio tics for a pneumonia. But they felt he was able to go home with us. As it turns out, they may have suspended his anti-biotics sooner than they should have. So while with us in our air-conditioned home, his cold and stuffysneezy cough persisted. Fortunately, Paws gave us a certificate allowing us a free vet visit at VCA. So my wife and the boys took him in and waited it out. The results were positive. He does have a cold, needs to get back on an anti-biotic, and we have to turn down the air conditioning. That is the hardest part for me. Oh yeah, and they informed them that our chubby couch potatoe tabby, Ed will likely catch the cold. Last night as Ed and Gogurt joined us in bed, Ed started to sneeze. If we get any more pets, I’m going to have to get a king size bed.