The World is All Yours

I finished my job. Summer is over. School starts today.

Today the girl starts Kindergarten. I have raised my two children from their beautiful births, through the twists and turns of early family life, and now I offer them both on the altar of public school.

Seven years ago we had a baby boy, and I began the long and hard road of fathering, parenting, inspiring, and cajoling him toward the grown up world. Five years ago the girl was born, and deepened the complexity of our family circle. I continued bravely forward in my role as meal provider, cleaner upper, social coordinator, and moral compass for these many years. I loved these two children with my whole heart, but made sure to leave room for their beautiful mother. I partnered with her in this grand expedition of family life, courted her, cared for her, and bedded her whenever I could. She and I have had a time, loving and growing these babies into people.

I am not a perfect parent. Many times I lost my patience and lost my way. Often the tethers of home life left me feeling tied, tired, and teetering on the edge of anger, animosity, anguish. I have also had far too many martinis to help me throught the dinner hour, and recycled far too many bottles every trash day. I have lost my temper far too many times, and yelled at my beauties more than I care to admit. 

I turned inward during these years, to better take care of my self. My life as an at-home parent looked pretty good. I pursued many interests, built and fixed the house, taught myself new skills. We joined an athletic club, a cooperative preschool, and a new neighborhood in the west hills. I learned to cook, and clean, and care for my brood. I spent many hours out for a run, the well upon which I drew my energy and peace.

My job is not finished, I understand. But today marks the point where I will no longer be the white-hot center of their lives. The preschool years were wonderful. We knew those families, we gave them our trust, we built a warm and loving blanket for all of our children in their growing up years. But Kindergarten is different. I went through this with our boy, and had to learn the hard way. While school can be a nurturing place, it is not always that. There are trials, and challenges, and difficult kids. There are far too many children, and there is far too little supervision.  Or maybe that is exactly what they are ready for. School is a melting pot in which to learn exactly who and what they are.

This short piece of writing is really a message - something I am struggling to pass on to my kids. The message is this: I trust you. We have spent these years together. I have tried to model and teach the skills that will get you through this. You are strong, and smart, and built to handle this and so much more to come. You are my children. Even without my help, you have to know that the family genes will give you some special things. You have a good mix of luck, and charm, and smarts. You will grow up to be passionate, and thoughtful, and brave. Your smart mouth will get you into trouble, and your fast legs will carry you away from it.

There are also the things I have tried to teach you. You must try, if you want to world to help you along. And the world will reward your trying. You can get further with a smile than a frown. You are smarter than you think. You can do things for yourself. You are worthy of my time, and, attention, and interest. Not because you are my children. But because you are you. Work hard at something, and you will like yourself all the better for it. You don't need to be the best, just give it your best effort. And only you know what is your best effort. You will win and lose, but try to handle both gracefully. Laughter will save you when nothing else can. And one more - life is fun. Take joy in the everyday, because that is where we live. Travel, people, culture, books, history, science are all worthy pursuits. But they are worthless if you do not enjoy the simple gifts of life. I just took seven years to enjoy them. I wouldn't trade them back.

Good luck, my beauties! But you won't need it. The world is all yours. Now go and get it.    

Labor Day Slovak Party

Last weekend, we threw a party at the house.

This was not just any party – it has a long standing tradition, dating back into my college years. They were often dubbed “Slovak parties,” but they usually just ended up in extreme drinking and naked hijinx. They usually contained one or more actual Slovaks that we knew from those college years. Those were good parties, but they cannot survive into our child-rearing, nearing our forties lifestyles.

We threw this party for some old college friends coming through town. We spent half the day preparing and resting for the rigors of hosting, cooking, and managing a small crowd (and children) in our space. The result was perhaps the best party we have ever thrown. My wife and I executed our roles well, with good communication and light-hearted banter. We had a lovely time, and I believe our guests did as well.

Getting to this place took practice, and the development of a special set of skills. I am proud of our efforts, and want to share our learnings here on the Daddy Life. Here they are now, the 10 guidelines for throwing a great party.

START WITH AN EMPTY DISHWASHER

This is a standard Cornett trick of the trade. When people are coming for dinner, run and empty the dishwasher. This way, a helpful guest can actually be helpful, by rinsing and depositing dishes in machine. 

 CLEAN THE GUEST BATHROOM

The guest bathroom needs sprucing up. It is likely the only one that will be used, so take a minute and wipe it down, clean off the counter, etc.

 CLEAR OFF SURFACES

This is more of a general traffic suggestion. My kitchen quickly becomes cluttered with all the business of our life. Get rid of that stuff. Hide it in a closet, or actually put it away before the party. In my house there is a “crucial countertop.”  It is the one spot where everything happens. This needs to be cleaned or cleared several times during the party. It is the place where everyone puts down their bags, and also the location where I mix the drinks, leave the appetizers, etc.

 MAKE DRINKS AND FOOD AVAILABLE SOMEWHERE BESIDES THE KITCHEN

Speaking of drinks, there is nothing that pulls people into the backyard like a cooler of beer, on ice. Or an oyster shucking station in the garage. Or wine bottles and glasses on the dining room table. You have to pull people out of the kitchen, not push them out.

 EMPTY THE GARBAGE CAN AND PROVIDE RECYCLING CONTAINERS

Another basic party beginning task. Take out the garbage. Replace the bag. Put the bottle recycling out the back door, or somewhere handy.

 OFFER EVERYONE  A DRINK WHEN THEY WALK IN THE DOOR

I am not good at this. The party gets rolling, a few families walk in the door, I am managing the kids somewhere.  But this part is important. Offer everyone a drink when they arrive. Start with the ladies. I could write volumes on this part, but I am still learning a few things. One note: a good cocktail is appreciated and will often arouse the interest of the next round of guests to arrive.

ALLOW KIDS TO SPREAD OUT AND FIND THEIR OWN DIVERSIONS

This is working better for us than it used to, because our kids are getting older. The girls go to the back room to play princess or kitchen or dress up. The boys go find Jude’s toys, cars, legos. Usually a parent will follow the small ones back to make sure that everyone is alright. My kids know the drill now. We also keep a collection of toys in the living room to keep the small ones busy, but within eyesight. Remember, the goal here is for adults to find space for adult conversation.

HAVE A MOVIE WAITING FOR DURING/AFTER DINNER

The movie is a carrot, but also an excellent babysitter for the point when the kids are wearing down and the adults are getting chatty. Sometimes this happens after dinner, sometimes during. This all depends on the numbers of guests, kids, ages of kids, etc. Some dinner parties can include kids at the table, while for others we feed the kids in a first wave. Either way, the movie is a welcome break from the party activity. Bonus points for popcorn.

SERVE DINNER AT THE RIGHT MOMENT

This one is all about “know your guests.” I always ask people if their kids are hungry, if they are hungry, and try to gauge the timing accordingly. On the other end, waiting too long means that your guests are half in the bag before sitting. Also not good. There is a tide that breaks. Serve dinner right then. Also, do I have to say it? With kids involved it is good to have lots and lots of finger foods on low tables within easy reach.

CLEAN THE KITCHEN BEFORE BED

This one I have managed well just a few times, but I cannot say enough about it. Waking up to a clean and spotless kitchen does you the service of putting the party behind you, beginning your new day anew, and moving on with your life. Throwing a party can be exhausting. You deserve a day off tomorrow. So go wash those wine glasses!

The Woodshed

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some words about the woodshed.  I did not know what would happen in the Daddy Life when my boy started Kindergarten. It was a strange mix emotion and euphoria. The result was this woodshed.

The Woodshed, (with a capital W) as it became known in my house, began to form in my mind several months ago. In the winter we had three trees down, and the WOOD from these trees was burning a hole into the farthest reaches of my masculine anxiety. All summer I shuffled these rounds about the property. I used them up on the deck for end tables. I dug out stairs and forts and paths. I even split some of them. But my STORY about the wood was that I would build a woodshed and STORE the wood for future fires. This was the manly thing to do. To build and split and stack. But all summer long this was just talk. It was a dream to offset all of the work I actually do every day - managing the children, cleaning the kitchen, planning the meals, etc.

And then September came and two things conspired to make my dream a reality. Suddenly I had one in school and this gave me a heretofore unseen quantity of TIME. Ada was around, but she is very helpful and often plays nicely on her own. So I had no excuses. The second occurrence was that it began to rain in September. It began to rain like only an Oregon winter can. This was the opposite of an Indian Summer. It began to rain in earnest and didn't stop for three weeks. And I panicked.

"THE WOOD IS ROTTING!" I thought to myself in all capitals. "I'VE GOT TO BUILD THIS WOODSHED!" And somewhere inside of me I feared that something else was rotting, too. The part of me that I put aside to change the diapers and rock the babies and make the bottles and soothe the wild beasts that are in my daily care. So I began the project to deal with my excess of firewood, but it began to symbolize my ability to deal with my own latent work. And that is when the mania gripped me.

It began simply enough, cutting down the old chain link fencing from the dog run. Then there were stakes hammered in the rain, and strings run, and measurements. There was a design that changed several times. Eventually I settled on something loosely built on the plans of a pole barn, with a level deck hung from the poles and a shed roof on top of that. But then I started making orders from the lumber yard, and the design kept growing to accommodate larger eves, a front pitch, and nice tongue and groove decking. The woodshed grew and grew, and as it went up I began to fall in love with it. I couldn't think about anything else. 

October was mercifully dry, and I continued the building with some help from friend Bjorn and father Danel. Eventually we got the metal roof onto it, then laid out the joists and decking, and finally some fencing on the ends to hold in my wood ricks. I spent all my time working on this thing. It was peaceful down there, in the back of the house. And the children knew where to find me. It was the loosest form of child-care imaginable. But it worked. I think we all needed a little break after our summer together. And then all of a sudden it was done. A big beautiful pole-barn of a woodshed with open air and large eves. I showed it off to my friends - and got many good ideas for its use. Yoga studio, brew-shed, covered ping pong pavilion were just a few. 

I still had a major problem on my hands. I had built a gigantic woodshed, but the loading of my wood was another matter. There were stacks of wood all over my back lot, and much of it was still in rounds. Somehow I knew that loading this thing would not be my biggest problem, and again the universe conspired with me to make it happen. A big thanks to Erik Larson, the Alaskan wood boss. He was in town and made some time to come and help me finish the job. 

And then, with all my wood split and laid up for winter, the mania subsided. I became my normal, amiable self again. The Daddy Life returned for the winter months. I was happy to be back, but one thing is different. Now we are going to have a lot more fires. 

Kindergarten

The summer passed. It was nothing like the trials of past years. My kids were Three and Five. We had adventures. We went to the pool. We flew to New York. We played in the sun.

September arrived, and with it came Kindergarten. Jude is enrolled in our neighborhood school. And Ada - she's a big girl now. Pre-school. Moving up in the world.

I am still the Dad. There is less to be in charge of now. I no longer need to own the schedule. It is already set for us. I make the lunches. I take the kids to school. I volunteer on my volunteer days. I meet the bus. I help with homework. I cook dinner. I put kids to bed.

There is more quiet. After school there is down time. In the mornings Ada is waking to a house with no brother. Now she can choose her own activities, her own level of stimulation. She is learning what to do with this freedom. But she misses him. Jude is tired after school. He loses his temper. Sometimes he cries about small things. We give him lots of space and love and chances.

This is really a post about Jude and Kindergarten.

The Cornett and Company moved to this neighborhood because we liked the school. It is a short drive over the hill to downtown, an easy commute out to Linden's work, and the neighborhood has a pleasant, suburban feel. There are fields. There are trees. And there is a nice public school in the middle. It's not flashy. There are no mansions around. It's just a good solid little school.

Let me insert here that we are public school people. We are both products of public school, and we carry the scars to prove it. The beauty of a public school is that it supports your community while teaching lessons about coping with an imperfect world. There were good years and bad years, good teachers and bad teachers. I am a public school teacher. So we did not balk at this next step. We rolled the dice, hoped for the best, and sent our boy off for some education.

After four years of preschool, this was a big change. We have very little contact with classroom or curriculum. Most of what we hear comes from Jude's mouth, and so far there is a lot to report. We are lucky that Jude has an excellent teacher. She is strict, but fair. She sets rules and boundaries (which Jude just loves) and she keeps him engaged with a fairly high expectation of academics. He's learning to read and write. They do math projects. He has a journal. There is science, culture, and academics worked into everything. And three recesses a day to burn off the jitters. This is not your parents' Kindergarten. It is quality instruction. And Judey likes it.

There were some problems, early on. Boys need to work out a pecking order, and this was definitely going on the first week. Somebody tried to kick somebody. Somebody else got kicked in the throat. Somebody had to go see the Principal. And then things seemed to get better.

Every morning Jude is excited to go to school. We wake up, pack lunches, get dressed, eat breakfast, and head out on the scooter for the downhill trip to school. I drop him off in the crowded cafeteria and he yells BYE DAD, I LOVE YOU and gives me a hug. I leave him there and walk home, uphill with the scooter. It makes for a lovely morning. At 2:30 in the afternoon, Jude gets off the bus a short walk up the hill. I am there every day to meet him. These are nice rituals.

Meet the new blog, same as the old blog

The Daddy Life has been quiet this summer. The entire world of the blog universe seems to be changing. And the Internet is changing along with it. Last July Google discontinued its popular Reader app, to the shaking and scratching of heads. Why remove a tool that is used to connect people to each other?  I chose not to move my information, and it was lost to the ether. I guess I was wondering, what will happen next?

It is clear to me this morning that the Internet companies of Yahoo, Google, Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter are all vying for me to build a newer, sharier, flashier online community out of the ashes of the blogosphere. And now it couldn't be easier to LOG IN WITH YOUR FACEBOOK PASSWORD? on any number of sites. Not sure how I feel about any of this. But I woke up this morning feeling remiss in my duties as a daddy blogger. It is not for my friends, or far off family, or even my online "community" of peers. I have missed documenting the trials of the Daddy Life.

This place is essentially on online journal. I don't scrapbook, I don't really Facebook, and I don't make photo albums. It is here that I am recording the experience of parenting, for myself and for posterity. When I am an old man I will read these words. So I had better get writing again.

The Ever-Changing Daddy Life

The past year brought so many changes that it is hard to cast back and find the center.

I have been pretty quiet over here about the rigors of the stay-at-home daddy life. Having kids at 4 and 2 was not any less challenging, but it was more manageable. And more satisfying, I think.  

A year ago we moved into the Cornett Compound. The move nearly killed us, and we swore not to move again for 20 years. Make that 19 years, now. We were lucky to find and buy our dream house on a flat-ish lot in the West Hills. The move allowed us all to grow a little, into our new space.

I love it here. We are set back from the street with a long driveway, plenty of woods, tall trees, a small yard, and room to run. I have a big shop that is mostly filled with bikes and skis and lawn chairs. But my personal happiness was not the only reason for this big move. We needed the space and the privacy to deal with another problem that was rapidly taking over our lives.

My boy is a monkey

This is a post about Sensory Processing Disorder, or living with too much stimulation. It has been overdue for some time, but I will try to make some sense of the world we live in. Maybe it will help my three readers in the raising of their own maniacs someday.  I am talking about Jude, my sweet little baby boy who is now 4 and ½ but he looks like he’s 6 (as he’ll tell you). He is a mad web of complexities that gives me both pride and cause to cringe, every single day.

A Summary of Jude

Jude dressed for the Pool

We have always known that Jude was a little different from other kids, but had no frame of reference. He was our first child, so we loved him, and parented him, and fed him, and raised him like everyone does, as best you can. A couple of things stand out about Jude. 

First, he is BIG. He really is solid, and really does look like he’s six. This is a source of pride at first, and then a problem in the real world. Other parents treat him like he should know better. And sometimes he should.  Second, he is independent (and willful). I love this about him, and as a parent I have consciously fostered it (within reason). You want to do the dishes? Great. You want to put on your own clothes? No problem. You want to climb on the mossy shake roof? Sorry, Judey.  Which brings me to a third standout:  he has great balance. The kid seems absolutely fearless, but then I’ve noticed that it is because he is also very careful. He almost never falls. He climbs, swings, dances over playgrounds, cars, ropes, or whatever. It’s enviable, even in a four year old. I would also say that Jude is very smart. He is good with words and numbers, and very interested in the world. He can be socially very engaging, but also demonstrates very antisocial behaviors by crashing around his body into other kids. This all makes for a pretty good puzzle, and I will add one more piece. Jude experiences extreme highs and lows in life. At moments he is nothing but pure joy, and at the other end he is crying and screaming and ANGRY. All of this will someday translate into personality and character. For now, we just call it CHALLENGING. 

Are you feeling frustrated?

Last year Jude was three, and it was in the context of our co-op preschool that it became evident there might be a problem. We had a few plane flights that were terrible. One day Jude tried to run through airport security (thank God he was unarmed). Getting in and out of the car was a daily challenge. I have carried him, screaming, out of too many perfectly nice parties.  Jude would get worked up, and start spinning out of control. Crying, lashing out, yelling, running away, falling on the floor. A real Jude tantrum is a thing to behold, and not fun at all. The best way I can describe it would be the word SAVAGE. On more than one occasion, old ladies on the street have been convinced that Jude’s rage was a desperate attempt to escape from his abusive father. They were very well intentioned, I am sure. These were red flags.

Sensory Processing Disorder

The very experienced teachers at Jude’s school kindly helped us to see that our reality was not what MOST parents know about. They directed us to hear a speaker about Sensory Processing Disorder, and encouraged us to try making Jude an appointment with an Occupational Therapist. As we studied SPD, it became clear that this might be a key to unlocking some of our problems.

What is this Sensory Processing thing? I can best describe it as a window to look at sensory experience. As we learn more about brain function, it has become clear that some children need certain inputs to help them grow up in a healthy way. As adults, we all find ways to modulate the stimulation in our lives. Some children need our help to do this. The experts talk about something called the “Sensory Diet.” It is not so much about food, but about regulating the stimulating experiences to a manageable level. Maybe this is the latest fad in pediatric psychology, but all I can say is that IT WORKS.

The biggest convincing factor came when I realized that I was already managing our lives around Jude’s sensory experience. Were we going to a party that evening? Better get to the pool in the afternoon. Did Jude spend the day at co-op preschool? Let him cool down for a few hours before another activity. Should I run some quick errands with three stops out of the car? Not on your life.

Last fall we began Occupational Therapy at a local clinic where they specialize in managing Sensory Processing Disorders, or SPD. It helped us to know that a number of other children in our pre-school community have also pursued this kind of treatment.   The very calm and knowledgeable Teacher Kristin met with Jude once a week for the past 6 months. She began with a short evaluation, and then moved to a combination of focused tasks and structured physical activities. Jude loves going there. He gets one-on-one time with an attentive adult, and she provides him with challenges that he can complete. 

The OT has also passed to us a number of strategies that have made a tremendous difference in our home life.  Let me give some examples.

The Crazy Chart

Schedules. We noticed that Kristin relied heavily on the use of quick-sketched, pictorial schedules to alert Jude to transitions. We adopted these at home to great effect. I’m a little embarrassed that I never tried the schedules on my own – I am a special ed teacher for gawds sakes. But sometimes it takes a look in from the outside to make things clear.

Stimulation. Kristin and Jude developed a number system and scale for describing his level of frustration. Jude once referred to it as his Crazy Chart. Now when he’s getting frustrated, we ask him, “Jude, what number are you?” It works as a self-awareness tool. Of course he has made up many more numbers to describe varying states of being.

Modulation. This is really about modulating stimulation or energy levels. When Jude is heightened, he needs activity, or challenges, or any of several other calming activities. Jumping, wheelbarrows, climbing on the car, spinning and swinging; these all work to serve this goal of giving Jude a better internal locus of control. Blowing through a straw. Sucking on a lollipop. The list goes on and on.  

Daily Brushing

Schedules

Intervention. We experimented with a couple of different home program tools. One was something called brushing that is basically used to “wake up” Jude’s body and alert him to stimulation. Another tool is something called Therapeutic Listening, which works to build connections in the brain through specialized music. I was skeptical of these things, but they seemed to help!

Color-Coded Transitions. This one was invented by our boy, and we adopted it for use with any time-sensitive transition. Some parents can just say, “Elroy, two minutes!” and then Elroy runs dutifully to the car. That was not remotely working for us. The system described below is just quirky enough and just repetitive enough to satisfy Dad, kids, and everyone else.

It all began with Code Green. 5 minutes to go. This was a good baseline.

But then eventually Code Green was not enough time, so we invented Code Pink. 7 minutes.

Don’t forget about Code White. More than 7 minutes, up to infinity minutes.

Where were we? Oh, yeah. Code Yellow actually means Time to Go, but I give it at 2 minutes.

One minute? Code Orange.

And finally, CODE RED - Red means Run. Technically it means one minute, but actually it was so named because it was at this point that Dad was seeing red, and definitely Out of Patience. We try very hard not to get to Code Red.

I know this all seems so silly, but if I want a smooth transition, then giving appropriate codes at White, Pink, Green, Yellow, and Orange works every time.

Days in the Life

Our life is much improved over the experience we were having just one year back.  MAYBE, that is just maturity and time, MAYBE we are all just getting more comfortable in our family life.  It is certainly true that Jude’s behavior got much better last summer when we started swimming every day. For a long time, we had been held hostage over Jude’s whims and needs. That is no longer the case. I have barely mentioned Ada in this post. She is coming into her own as a happy, healthy, almost-three-year old. It is a pleasure to see.

I am sure it helps for us all to have more room to do our work and build our skills.  If somebody needs to be angry and run away for a few minutes, it is entirely okay to go down to the creek and break sticks.  Dad goes to the backyard and splits wood. Ada climbs the tree. Linden goes for a walk. And Jude is still learning the things he needs to learn about self-control, caring for others, and building self-esteem. But we’re getting there. Ever onward.

Ada doing an Ada Dance

Safety goggles are all the rage at our house.

Our general take on SPD is that Occupational Therapy can’t hurt us reach our goal – for Jude to engage with the world in a healthy and meaningful way. It is a few short months until the end of co-op. Then comes summer time, followed by the beginning of Kindergarten.

The Daddy Life began as an experiment to see if I could handle being a stay-at-home parent. To see if my restlessness and my identity could weather the storms of raising two babies into kids. Something changed in the last year that helped me answer that question. I love what I’m doing. This is my life. Someone asked me recently if this situation was temporary. I thought back on the nearly 5 years I have been home from work and answered without thinking twice. “It is temporary. And it’s going to be temporary for about 5 more years.”

You could almost call it fleeting. Managing my family is the best job I’ve ever had. I haven’t been writing much because I’ve been WORKING. But the reflection is good for me. Thanks for reading!

Peace and Love from the Daddy Life! 

Summer Adventures

Back from vacation, our summer adventures continue. This is where the Daddy Life earns his chops - a summer of long days and nothing on the schedule. File these ones under: things I should never forget.

Making pancakes on Mom's first day back at work.




Exploring our new love for tying knots.

Helping Dad with the splitting and stacking. 

Two big kids crammed into the bike trailer.