it makes dirty clothes on the bathroom floor seem tame, maybe even welcome
i found a pair of bella's underwear in the dining room.
when i opened the silverware drawer in the butler's pantry, i found a pair of anthony's pajamas stuffed towards the back.
no comments were made though until we found one of alex's socks pulled over the doorknob of our home's front door. marty pointed at the sock and asked me if that meant one of the boys were having sex upstairs and we should proceed with caution.
i thanked her for suggesting it was one of the boys and not my only daughter.
if you had 2,000 pennies, you'd probably say no. but if you had 2,000 mice in your basement you'd probably say yes, it is a mighty lot, a near unfathomable lot.
how about 2,000 days left to have your child live in your home as part of your in-home family? is 2,000 a lot then? that is the question i'm asking myself because this last saturday my bella countdown hi...
this is from, i believe, anthony's first year of dad lunches, which means his first year of pre-school. he looks so small it's hard to imagine him going to school any sooner. i can't recall exactly what these lunches sounded like but would pay top-dollar for a recording of one of our conversations. i imagine it would have dealt with what happened at his school earlier in the day and week and me pr ...
i walked through the ping pong room on a saturday morning to find anthony leaning back on the futon playing a DS while a movie played on a laptop in front of him and a bowl of popcorn sat next to him which he'd reach into for a fresh mouthful when his game didn't require both hands. bella sat on the other side of the room, using marty's computer. the scene produced the following exchange:
TROY
hey anfer. nice juggling work there. most impressive.
BELLA (the quoted part being done in an exaggeratedly deep-dad voice)
WHAT!?! why when i do that, you yell at me and when he does it you tell him 'most impressive'?
TROY
because one of the things he's doing isn't his homework.
we recently learned that one of bella's dogs (from her dog-sitting business) had taken ill, ill to the point that the vets told the family they probably had a week left with him before it would become unbearable for all concerned. of all the dogs bella has cared for this one, Guinness, held the top-spot with our family. whenever bella watched Guinness he would stay at our house, sometimes for weeks at a time, sleeping in our beds, walking laps around our dinner table and standing guard at the french door windows for joggers and dog walkers.
marty and i held off telling the kids as long as able due of the holiday break but given the short window we had to work with—as we had to go down to say our goodbyes—we called the kids down to the living room just days before christmas and explained the situation. bella was, predictably, leveled by the news. marty held bella's quaking frame, tears streaming down her own face at seeing her daughter rocked so. i sat with alex who leaned into me silent and staring. we hushed anthony's questions telling him we'd explain better later.
alex and i then left for a lunch we had planned, leaving marty still holding a now quiet isabella. after a few silent miles in the car, i asked my ten year old how he felt. following a longish pause he softly said, "i think i'm a little bit devastated."
if there is one who makes the most of his words in our family, the safe and accurate bet would point to alex.
i'm sure by now you've all seen this video, but still...
this strikes me beyond the well done sentimentality as it points to a gaping hole in my screen policing philosophy, a hole my children are just beginning to discern. the loophole is this: i will allow my children immense access to technology in the name of active creation. and i will restrict, with equal vigor, the time they use technology for numb consumption.
as for my criteria of what is creation, they are broad. i'm indifferent if you're plotting out a website, writing a short story, shooting a video or even trying to make a wonky maze in minecraft—if that's the plan, plug in and hack away. conversely, if the agenda is to troll other people's websites, read the stories they crafted, watch their video-making achievements, or play a wonky maze someone else made, time is up, log off, go outside and get dirty.
bella is the first to begin to glean this paradox in her father because even while on restriction from screens, she's noticed any kid with a plan in hand gets greenlit to the machine of their choosing. before you start picking at my methonds, please know one needs more than a fanciful vision to get past the logon screen. outlines, sketches, mockups are the sorts of keys that can make the doors swing wide. lacking that level of planning, a child will be sent off to better collect their thoughts. if they can't get the plan on paper they either weren't serious or they weren't ready.
and if you gave me ten years, i don't think i could have transformed this belief with anywhere near the payload this apple ad achieves in a mere ninety seconds. fully ridiculous. holy smokes are their people good (ahem, creators).
as for me i think i've done about all the creating i've got in me for 2013 so i'll be stepping away to relax by the fire, smile at the dinner table, and tell animated stories with friends and family while lazing on comfy furniture next to lit trees. may your next weeks be rich with laughter, contentment and liesure while we all get a societal kitchen pass to spend time with our friends and families.
see you on january 6th.
p.s. speaking of creating, after entering this post into the database, i noticed that it is the 2,001st entry in the monorail blog. things, good and bad, do have a reliable way of accumalating on us. it's the quiet beauty of the slow drip.
sometimes our kids become unglued. when this happens, in our home, they are sent to their room. marty has all these calm, mature lines for such moments like, "kids who need to cry do so in their room, my living room is for happy people" or "you need to go to your room until you're able to make good and respectful choices to those around you". sometimes you have to help a child to their room but mostly they go on their own volition.
i find children claiming to be cured of the evils that afflicted them are not as cured as they might think or say. similar to the other baubles in my modest collection of knowledge, it took me longer to procure this particular gemstone than it probably should have. in defense, let me say you too may have been fooled when a cute pig-tailed girl of four calmly approaches you, says she feels all better now and can she go back to playing. one might even applaud their own parental acumen at righting a world that almost went all sideways and screamy. it is only when the small, adorable child rejoins the others, mostly siblings, calmly sits down, carefully selects a block and then brains the unsuspecting mark in the temple that you know a few bad clouds might still be lurking in the folds of their demeanor.
after being burned by this scenario more than once, i created a test for my recently pardoned children. when a freshly quieted child comes to you and gives the "all clear" sign, ask them to come right before you. when they do, stare into their eyes. the stare begins the test. a child not fully ready will not be able to hold your stare for more than a few seconds. they will try but will uncomfortably avert their eyes before long. this child needs to cook in their room a bit longer. for a child that holds your gaze, wait about ten seconds and then carefully place your three middle fingers on the center of their forehead and give them a gentle nudge, a nudge strong enough to push their forehead back about three inches. the cured child will smile and ask what you are doing and why did you just push them in the head. the un-ready child's eyes will flare with contempt and their miniature frame will lunge at you, their small fingers unmistakably targeting your carotid. this child is not ready.
for what it's worth, i've yet to meet the child who can successfully fake their way through the stare and push test.
we are getting ready to re-do our backyard. we began this operation a few years ago, initially by pulling up a fifty year old brick patio whose bricks had drifted apart as much as the alleged super-continent pangea. after preparing to move onto phase two of the project—the grading, tilling, and sodding of the former plot—the children protested loudly. during the work they had found som ...
i told her it seemed selfish of her to expect me to quit my chore because she wanted to play on the computer.
she thought a moment and offered to continue the dishes, silverware actually, while i got her set up.
i complimented her smart problem solving. she came to the sink, i stepped back and she assumed my spot.
before i left the kitchen i saw her blanching at the task. it looked as though she was just going to bide time until i unlocked the computer and returned. seeing this in the cards i called from the next room that it seemed fair for me to type one letter of the password for every piece of silverware she washed. i heard an exclamation of understanding from the kitchen as well as a clatter of jostled silverware. she counted off the pieces she washed and i in turn wondered aloud why we ever chose such ... a ... long ... password which prompted more clatter and action from the kitchen.
that ole barter system must stand as one of man's finest creations.
for me, one of the hardest adjustments of parenthood was having people touching me and my stuff all the time. and when i say this you're probably imagining clean, healthy and groomed humans but that's not always the case. it turns out children prove as slippery as the weather and one day might gift you a beautiful gerber baby day while the next deals you a mucus-plugged nose or diarrhea filled foo ...
i promised answers to the jokes posted last week. here they are:
ANTHONY question: how do you tell if you have a dumb dog? answer: he only chases parked cars note: saying the word 'parked' proved quite effortful for anthony and caused a lot of people to scrunch their faces in thought while they ran through the options. it was neat seeing the moment they got it as their countenance relaxed going from strain to smile.
ALEX question: what do you call an elephant in the arctic? answer: lost note: i continue to marvel how easily alex carries himself with strangers. in the early days he seemed to be a guy who would be forever fearful and intimdated by unknown folks, especially grown up ones, but recent years have exposed a quiet charisma in him that is so unassuming it for-sure sneaks up on most people.
BELLA question: what do you ghouls and ghosts wear? answer: boo-ties note: while you might have expected more from bella, on this day, all her focus is given to better, faster coverage of the homes she hopes to hit. i need to tell her that some people reward smart jokes with extra candy.
BONUS:
while trying to find their jokes last week, here's a riddle the kids stumped me with.
you go into the woods and get it
you sit down to search for it
and you bring it home with you because you can't find it?
what is it?
i'll let that slide through your fingers for a bit before the reveal.
for those that might not know, st. louis has a tradition where the trick or treaters have to (are supposed to) have a joke to tell before getting candy. this ritual initially annoyed me but has grown on me over the years. here are the kids' jokes this year:
ANTHONY
how do you tell if you have a dumb dog?
ALEX
what do you call an elephant in the arctic?
BELLA
what do ghouls and ghosts wear?
i'll let you chew on those over the weekend. i'll post the answers next week.
marty has started telling bella (12) she is getting too old to trick or treat, news that proved reasonably devastating to both bella and i. for bella, more than the dressing up or the boons of the candy, she loves the challenge of hitting as many houses as possible in her allotted window. obviously she has gotten dramatically better each year, namely through good planning and strategy. the last two years she's graduated from the orange plastic pumpkin container to the pillow case to carry her candy, the inside sign of a real gamer. as for me, i'm one who believes, that like with many facets of life, one's entry into and out of halloween deals more with their personal love of the ritual than an actual age. so as long as one is willing to engage in the rules and requirements of the tradition, one is eligible to play. i feel i aged out of the dressing up thing at around seven but surely know several people, my age, that haven't lost their love of it yet. more on bella's status as a pillowcase carrying participant in years to come i'm sure.
something that has become my favorite part of halloween in our home is the post-trick-or-treating trading session that happens just inside the doorway. bella introduced this practice a few years back and early on it proved to be little more than her figuring out how she could get her favorite candy from her brothers' bags. in this routine, each kid dumps out their bucket and starts assessing the stock, pulling their favorites aside. this obviously leaves a less coveted circle of candy before them which they start offering for trade.
does anyone like almond joys? almond joys here.
yes. yes. i want them.
what do you got?
i got ... i got ... i got skittles.
ok. skittles for almond joys. here's three. you got three?
yes.
their hands exchange the goods quickly and begin the desperate search for the next trade. now that everyone is older, the bartering is much more even, heated and raucous. last night we had three extra kids over and the decibels hit new heights--although this happens with birthday party pinatas too and while there are more kids, there is less variety which makes things a bit more sedate. last night's trading was a furious affair given the ages of the kids and volumes of candy. the craziest bidding war happened when bella raised a mini pack of swedish fish over her head with both hands looking like she cradled a sacred chalice above her. she loudly called out "swedish fish! i've got one bag of swedish fish here!" this announcement silenced the room as everyone stopped and stared over bella's head. they then looked down and started calling out candy names. when someone said kit-kat bella lit up and said yes. when someone heard her response, they yelled "i'll give you two kit-kats". you know what happened next. the one bag of swedish fish ended up going for eleven kit-kats to alex. when bella stepped over the segregated ponds of candy to alex's spot, he counted out six kit-kat packs in her hand while she held the prized swedish fish in her other. when he stopped at six she looked at her hand.
whoa buddy. where's the rest?
what?
you bid eleven.
yeah.
there's only six here.
but there's two in each pack. that's twelve. so really, you're getting an extra one.
(after a pause) ok. since you're my brother, i'll let that slide. but next time, no funny math.
i felt bad for anthony as he had problems reading the candy names so just had to hold things over his head and in a tinny voice shout, "i have these. does anyone want some of these?". his small call couldn't compete with the din of the room so i'd see what he had and tell him the name so he could upgrade his marketing to, "i have a heath bar. does anyone want a heath bar?" which usually did better to get the attention of the frenetic, sugar-addled audience.
and this, this post-collection ritual, is mostly why i think bella should be allowed to continue trick-or-treating. what would ever happen to the candy trading-floor were she to be benched. she brings an attitude and fierceness to the affair i don't think will be easily replaced. and bella and i are not the only ones thinking on her potential forced retirement. while we were between houses with a lit porch light anthony told me that because this was bella's last year trick-or-treating they, the three kids, were going to create a 'candy bank' they each put candy into each year so that when mom said they were all too old to trick-or-treat anymore, they would still have some halloween candy. i wonder how a limited supply of stock would amp up the trading floor. i could see it getting physical right quick.
and speaking of cogent points made by my seven year old, while playing twenty questions with anthony's classmates at his room party earlier in the day, anthony raised his hand. when i called on him his question was mildly different than the others kids questions. one kid's first question to a new game was not 'is it an animal' or 'is it bigger than a breadbox', but "is it an ardvark?". when i said no it was not an ardvark, the next kid i called on asked, "is it blue?". when i said no it was not blue, the hands continued popping up. when i called on anthony, he asked, "what kind of matter is it?" all the adults all looked at each other and then to me for the answer. here i had the embarrasing task of having to say i wasn't sure aside from the fact that the thing i was thinking of did have matter. my first grader then assisted me by adding, "no dad. i mean is it solid, liquid, or gas?". now that i could answer but wished he said that in the first place so i didn't have to so publicly reveal to the room why i chose the liberal arts over the sciences. they say with modern studies there comes a point where parents will not be able to help their kids with their homework. i think that point has come at an embarrassingly early age for me.
if memory serves, aleo fell asleep before the twentieth house, not surprising given the interior of that costume had to be balmy 120 degrees. bella continued on, possibly hitting almost 100 homes (a modest number compared to her post-ten coverage) that night. and at each one she'd point down at the sidewalk to the stroller with two brown, furry feet protruding and ask, "can i have a piece of candy ...
marty missed our last movie night. she doesn't like to do this but i sent her away. since returning to work marty's friend time went from semi-regular chats at parks and kids events to comments made in passing while porting the children to and fro. of course with her being marty, she pushed back from being sent away, saying, spending what little free time she has with her family is the right thing...
you would think the message for kids to get dressed would be trivial, something like 'go get dressed' trivial. not so. in our house, we are required to use three different calls to robe oneself.
ANTHONY
anfer. go get dressed. and please wear underwear this time.
ALEX
aleo. go get dressed. and wear something you haven't worn in the last seven days please.
BELLA
baya. go get dressed. and please don't leave your discarded clothes in the hallway.
the boys and i were watching star trek, the original, after dinner. we're slowly working our way through the franchise starting at the very beginning. we were piled up on my desk chair, me on the seat and the boys each sitting on an armrest leaning on me. during the show i passed some post-dinner gas. moments later a big fight broke out in the show. i commented on the suddenness of the melee to which anthony (7) said casually, "i think they're fighting because of your smelly fart".
another thing that happened this last weekend was bella, alex and i volunteered in a service project organized by the university i work for. in this program all incoming freshmen are encouraged to participate in this annual ritual where various projects are identified for them to work on throughout the city. these projects tend to be beautification efforts (e.g. clean-up, painting). last year i worked on a team that painted a high school football stadium. this year my team helped paint portions of an enormous inner city school.
the overall structure of the initiative is this. the university selects a number of projects to be worked on, via application i believe. each project is assigned a site manager. the site manager is responsible for organizing the overall effort. they will meet with the contacts at the work site, identify the work to be done, recruit and direct project managers, order the necessary supplies and manage all the communication between the relevant folks. for the last two years i served as one of the project managers. and each of the last two years i took bella and alex with me for the day.
on the day of, the project leads arrive early and figure out a game plan. then about a hundred students are brought by bus to each site. they are divided up among the project leads who direct and oversee the student effort. last year bella and alex just worked along-side the freshman (and out-worked, complaint-free, a great many of them). this year i asked bella and alex to be runners. given the size of the school we were working at and the number of efforts happening i asked them to move between the various teams carrying a crate of supplies (e.g. water, paint brushes, rollers, rags) around and asking if the groups needed anything special. when a group did need something, bella or alex would go find what they asked for and bring it back.
just after the students arrived, i was standing on a large stairway landing explaining our job to the twenty freshmen girls assigned to me. in the midst of the talk alex came up the stairs wearing an orange bandana, carrying his supply crate and began excusing his way through the collection of girls trying to pass. i stopped my instruction to introduce him, saying, "ladies, this is alexander and he ...". before i could continue he cut me off loudly proclaiming ...
hi. i'm alex. i'm a runner. that means i'll just be running all over the school taking things to people. if you need anything you ask me for it and i'll go find it. this is so you don't have to stop working and don't have to find anything. and i know where everything is at. so just ask me. and i'll get it for you. i guess that's about it. bye.
with this he put his head back down and continued cutting through the crowd and up the stairs to the collective, melting sigh of twenty, now smitten, college girls. this is an example of 'new alex' which appeared shortly after turning ten. 'new alex' is not only not meek and shy, he is actually quite outgoing, gregarious, and quietly charasmatic (and as just shown, able to turn a gaggle of college girls into doe-eyed, fan-girls with little more than a few quickly dashed-off sentences).
later in the day i saw bella and asked her how she was doing. she said ok but alex was making her angry. when i asked why she said that every time she went up to cute guys to ask if they needed anything they kept saying they did but that boy alex was already getting it for them. so, let's not forget to add hard-worker to new alex's resume.
