Step down to the Mat

“It will be several years before he can distinguish between dreams and reality.”

This statement is widely accepted as common for 15 month olds.

It really puts in perspective how traumatic a bad dream can be and why, at times, Cash can wake up screaming. Meghan and I are horrified to think what frightening image or scene played out in his little head.

I’ve never been an alarmist or someone who wants to micromanage every minute of my child’s life but this concept should remind parents what they should and shouldn’t expose their kids to.

Sometimes I turn on the morning news show-when Cash is in the living room with me-to get the weather and some “light” interest stories: an upcoming city festival, construction projects, sports stories. As it shifts to the background of my attention, the show cycles through the national news and images of terrorist attacks, explosions, and protests flash across the screen.  I lunge for the remote worried what Cash may have seen. Even though he doesn’t really pay attention to it, it worries me that these human pains reach his little mind without us being able to filter it or explain it to him.

We’ve now made it a point to have the TV on much less in our household. Instead of slowly waking up, coffee in hand while Cash plays with his toys in front of me, I now get off my lazy butt and turn off the TV (I can get weather reports from my phone), get down the floor and play with him.  Apparently, I grunt often when my tired body plops on the floor next to him because now whenever Cash bends down, he makes grunting and straining noises.  Sounds like daddy needs to get in better shape.

Anyway, this is a win-win, he gets more exposure to daddy and less to the atrocities of the outside world that our news is all-too-happy to berate us with.

Cash is going to have night terrors but if we can minimize them, we will. When we cap the night with a “sweet dreams” wish, we mean it.

One of our most important jobs as parents is as primary protectors. We aren’t going to consume the sensationalized negativity from our media and neither is Cash.

Sometimes taking a stand, means getting down on the floor.

 

 

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Mother Meg

I often write about being a parent to Cash but it goes without saying writing that I’m a co-parent…and the lesser one at that.

I’m not minimizing my contribution, my paternal influence is equally important but Momma Meghan carries the heavier parenting load.

From childbirth (if you haven’t read about that https://wisconsindadger.com/2015/12/11/one-year/ through present she has been more responsive Cash’s highest and frequent demands. And while he has worn her patience to a nub on many occasions, as you can imagine a work-from-home mom would encounter, she has NEVER shown him that.  Throw in that she is taking a chemistry class this spring while working and taking care of Cash everyday and still Cash wouldn’t notice an ounce of demeanor change in her.

Heck, the woman sing-songs during diaper changes and kisses Cash so often, it’s surprising his skin doesn’t have permanent lip markings.

Even when he squeals and moans and bites her finger while she scrubs his teeth each night, Meghan’s sweet smile remains.

I knew Meghan was the nurturing type going into our marriage and parenthood but she goes above and beyond my expectations nearly every day.

Somehow, though she is Cash’s constant companion and I mean constant…fact: in the fifteen months of Cash’s life, the longest Meghan has been apart from him is six hours, she still can get him to giggle uncontrollably and remain always happy to see her.

In comparison, I’ve been apart from him for a little over two weeks (back in August while handled the water damage in our house so Meghan and Cash extended their Northern California trip.)  I know Cash missed me but our absence was definitely harder on me because, at least he was with his main caregiver Momma.  There’s no way that situation could have been reversed.

I would put the healthiness of Cash’s diet against ANY baby’s in the world.  If it were up to me, Cashy boy would have string cheese, cheerios and blueberries every morning. But, thankfully, it’s not. Meghan prepares his breakfast from scratch, running blenders, heating, cooling, peeling, cutting every day for almost every meal and snack. Mixing in vegetables and legumes I’d never heard of with “superfoods” and organic, additive-free, wholesome food for optimal opportunity for good health.

Beyond diet expertise, even more importantly, the love and exuberance Meghan shows Cash every day is the main reason he’s such a happy kid.

I can only imagine Cash can’t help but feel with every ounce of his being that his loved by both of us of course, but deep down he knows where his bread is buttered…organic on whole wheat.

 

 

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Feverish

I had my first stay at home/work from home experience this week as Cash for the first time in his life had a fever – 102.5 degrees.  Meghan does this basically everyday and I’m in no hurry to switch roles!

One of the rare parenting tasks I do better than Meghan is working the automatic body temperature sensor.

Forget the old cold, thin, glass, mercury-inside, thermometer that used to be put…where you’d prefer it not get put.

These temperature taking devices these days are high tech…all kinds of settings, beeps and memory prompts.

All you have to do is swipe the sensor across the forehead to one side of the hairline and boom–you have the temperature reading in digital display! Cash smiles as it slides across his head and now, insists he do it himself. (I’m still the best at it in my house…for now…)

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I was called in as the relief sitter for Cash’s regular sitter, my Mom, who was stuck home with the nasty flu-my sister and nieces also had touches of it.

We do have some back-up sitters but with the little guy not feeling himself and uncomfortable, it just made sense I stay home while Meghan attended her Chemistry class and lab that take up a good part of the day.

It’s certainly a challenge to feed, change, and play with an under-the-weather toddler while also working and being available for co-worker emails and questions.

Besides the fancy, new temperature takers, infant ibuprofen and acetaminophen now come in boxes with easy to fill and disperse syringes…which squirt a sweet and swift pain management liquid. Sometimes Cash will actually suckle the syringe.

Fortunately, Cash is feeling better and I’m able to return to work…let’s hope the flu had flown away from us.

I’m in no hurry to switch roles again anytime soon.

 

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Raising a Manner

One of Meghan and my biggest priorities in raising Cash is that he have manners and respect for adults.

The pleases and thank yous and social graces that grease the wheels of a civilizations’ happiness and well being. And melts the hearts of adults

But we can talk a good game and tell him to do those things but if we don’t do it, it’s just chatter. Nonsense.

Parents have to embody and be an example of what they want their kids to be. I was given teaching advice in my early years in the profession, “Be who you want your students to be.” Makes sense for parents and coaches as well.

The opposite of “Do as I say, not as I do.” That’s the biggest line of BS I’ve ever heard and can’t believe we’ve allowed anyone to say that and get away with it.

My freshman biology teacher, Jim Stephenson, once said after handing out an assignment. “I wouldn’t ask you guys to do anything I wouldn’t do.”  I hadn’t heard that phrase before but obviously it’s stuck with me all these years and is a noble sentiment.

Also from a former coach of mine, current Waunakee High school head football coach Pat Rice said, “It’s really easy to talk about scoring 50 points, it’s a lot harder to DO that!” Simple but true.

I may be wandering off point here but we’ve lost emphasis on valuing class and moved into valuing trash.

Think I’m exaggerating? One word-Kardashians. Mrs. Kanye West has a net worth estimated at $145 million. Speaking of “class” acts, how about Mr. Kanye’s behavior? Classy? Good manners? Want your kid to act like him?

But, it’s not just limited to reality TV shows.

TV news’ long-time mantra “If it bleeds, It leads” promotes the idea that we focus on the bad behavior and what’s wrong without showing what’s right.

In entertainment, we look the other way and shrug our shoulders when athletes  and musicians father multiple children with multiple women.

We find bad behavior entertaining to watch on TV but our voyeurism is slipping into a weird sort of worship and reward and it seems to be blurring our sense of judgment.

It’s the parents role to be vigilant, step in and provide proper perspective amidst our current culture.

They say the best way to have polite kids, is to be polite. If you’re a jerk, your kid probably will be one too. So, if your kid doesn’t have manners it’s on you. Teach, reinforce, reteach, re-reinforce…for as long as it takes.

Humans are not born with manners–anyone who has watched a toddler eat at the table knows this–but rather, you learn them. And as parents, it is our duty to teach them.

Manners help our kids function in a society that will be have been made better by the those same manners.

Our kids look up to us…don’t let them lose sight on what’s important.

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Thank you for reading.

 

 

 

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Find a Repurpose in Life

The internet has spawned all sorts of unprecedented creativity and idea sharing. I’m especially interested in the “upcycling” items I’ve seen. I believe “upcycling” is a new word that has been spawned from the internet and refers to taking something old and refurbishing and repurposing it into something new.

I’m nowhere near a being a hoarder. I’m quick to get rid of no longer used, no longer worn items. But, I can get nostalgic and as I grow older, gain a deeper appreciation for well-made, interesting products of yesteryear.

So, this past Fall when I drove by a TV set sitting on the curb of an older home, something possessed me to pull over, back up and take a closer look.  The set reminded me of the TV sets my grandparents had in their homes when I was a child.

Don’t misunderstand, I’m a fan of today’s flat screen TVs, thin as an inch and highly defined-we have three in our house.

But, there is something about those old TV sets. The old consoles that were a piece of furniture in family rooms across the US. These were substantial enough to set your drink or dinner on if you had to. Try that on one of these paper thin sets of today!

Still, I drove off thinking, it’s “junk” leave it be and let it go peacefully off to TV heaven. But, a mile down the road, I was compelled to turn around and drive back to it…drawn to it like a magnet.

I parked next to the driveway, looked around a bit cautiously-feeling a little criminally-and quickly hoisted the beastly appliance into the back of my Jeep without “breaking” anything within the TV…or within my spine.

Once it was loaded in, I shut the back and trotted into the front seat and sped off. A check in the rearview mirror confirmed I was getting away, free and clear.

When I arrived home, I asked Meghan to lend me a hand to bring something in the house that “I’d picked up on the side of the road.” She gave me a skeptical look.

Luckily, Meghan is a sport when it comes to these things and has herself “upcycled” several items in her past, some of which are in our house now-our main dresser and TV console.

She agreed the TV set was a pretty cool find but left it up to me to find storage and a purpose?

With our large basement that wasn’t a problem, but I needed to find a use for it.  It, not surprisingly, was dead-which was fine considering I didn’t think it would supplant any of our current TVs for viewing.

A search on the internet revealed a few ideas, but not as many as I thought there might be. The main ones were removing the screen and tubing and replacing it with an aquarium. Cool, but we weren’t interested in having one or owning fish.

Another option was to make it a lighted bar. Seeing as we have a toddler, having a low set, accessible item with tons of glass and bottles, didn’t sound like a smart move.

One more had the screen and tubing replaced to create a cat bed. Uhh, no. Our cat, Emmitt, has too many places to sleep around our house already.

I decided I wanted our son Cash to interact with it. I liked the juxtaposition of old and young.

An original-at least as far as I know-idea surfaced in my brain–I’d paint the screen with magnetic paint and convert the set into a magnetic board on which Cash could use his colorful magnets!

I pitched the idea to Meghan. She was actually impressed and told me to go for it.

So, I bought the paint, had the brushes and tape and went to work.  The magnetic paint is cool but really thick, so I had to stir it with a one inch thick piece of scrap wood I had in the workshop.

So, over the course of a couple nights after work, I painted on layers, waiting for each one to dry, and reapplying.

After six coats, I decided to bring in a trial magnet…and it stuck easily and cleanly!

I ripped off the painting tape, scratched out few errant paint dots and I was on to my last step, insisted upon by my wife…to clean “the crap out of it!”

I scrubbed and sprayed and scrubbed and exactoknifed and buffed and wirecutted and pounded anything else that protruded…and finally, my upcycle was complete!

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But, the real test of my success would be if Cash would want to use it or not.

When you’re only halfway to success, you still succ!

I’m pretty sure that I just invented that phrase. Anyone know how I can start making and marketing T-shirts, coffee mugs and bumper stickers?!

Anyway, you may know from last week’s article https://wordpress.com/post/wisconsindadger.com/1715

how much Cash enjoys touch screens.  This was taking that to a different level!

I set it up in his baby cave and let him loose. He passed through the valley of his toy mountains and went straight to this newest playroom addition.

He sat up…and immediately started moving magnets off, on, and around the screen!

Success!

As I watch Cash play, I feel good that I gave this TV set a new purpose.

Just like my family has given me.

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Touchy Subject

Meghan and I were those pre-parents who make all sorts of delusional, unsubstantiated proclamations:

“Our kids won’t be watching TV!”

“Our kids won’t constantly have their noses in their cell phones!”

“Our kids will not be eating sweets!”

(Okay, Meghan said this last one and I nodded also knowing deep down I would not be the one enforcing this. Pretty sure she knew that too.)

But hey, don’t we all start out with ideals and goals and that more often than not have to amended or outright abolished?

Less than a year into Cash’s life we had broken the no TV rule. (See article https://wisconsindadger.com/2015/09/18/baby-first)

Not only does he watch a little TV but also kid-programming videos on Youtube. It’s especially nice to have him sitting contently and occupied while his food is prepped instead of him wandering into trouble in the kitchen while burners and stoves are running and cabinets are being shut and opened!

And soon thereafter, the sweets rule…turns out Cash loves ice cream, brownies, and peanut butter Clif bars.

And to complete the list, by his first birthday, Cash had become surprisingly adept and proficient using our Iphones and Ipad.

We’re left feeling torn about the violations of our preconceived proclamations.

TV screens, sweets, and cell phones are ubiquitous. We’ve resigned ourself to conciliatory notions of his inevitable exposure and interactions with them. None of them appear to be going away. Why delay or prevent?  It’s like trying to stop a hurricane with an umbrella.

I admit, we feel strained yet impressed with his device usages the most.

With his furrowed brow, intense stare and pointed index finger, Cash easily swipes through screens, pulls up stock reports and enters incorrect log-in codes which have caused both our phones to be locked a number of times.

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To boot, there are plenty of apps that provide entertainment and education.

Just this past weekend, I searched “Best apps for 14 month olds” and spent $.99 on our first app purchase for Cash-called Lunchbox. The app lets you identify and tap fruits on the screen…when successful, the fruit pops and disappears while a little monkey jumps up and celebrates.

I found the app a bit redundant and mildly educational…but to be fair, it’s not targeted at 532 month olds.

I’m kept busy enough monkeying with how to unlock my phone.

 

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A Renaissance

“You’re a renaissance man!”

A high school teacher said after he heard I was simultaneously acting in the school play, running on the Track team serving on the student council.

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The term renaissance man sounded positive but I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. Definition: a person with many talents or areas of knowledge.

It was an ideal developed in the 15th century by Leon Battista Alberti who summed it up with “a man can do all things if he will.”  Alberti should know, he was an architect, painter, poet, scientist, mathematician and horseman. (I presume this means a good horserider?)

By the way, women can be a renaissance man…see “person” in definition.

Anyway, I certainly didn’t measure up to Alberti but my crossover into varied activities was rare.  Was I a jock or a drama nerd? A student government egghead? Others were-class clowns, band geeks, braniacs, druggies(stoners)?

I was proud to cause pause when it came to characterizing me.  I witnessed how flimsy and inaccurate labels can be…when none of them totally represented me. I was nothing special. I happened to like playing football, acting, debating issues, music, etc. Truth is, I enjoyed performing whether it was on stage or on the football field. It tripped the same triggers, in both, you planned, practiced then performed. And yes, I enjoyed applause, call me a narcissist.

The emphasis on focus, determination and teamwork was essential to it all. And I gained friends from different walks of life who often misunderstood one another.

I imagine, like Meghan and I, all parents wish for their kids to be well-rounded, unlimited, open to defining and re-defining who they are as they go through life.

It’s a great big world, shouldn’t we push the edges and explore it?  Isn’t it wasteful and depressing to not?

Labels aren’t evil but they can be. They can constrain, they can nullify, they can extinguish the human spirit.

This is why I’m so concerned the idea of the renaissance man is in danger in the midst of our emerging specialization society. It’s all-too-apparent in the raising of our youth the last decade or so.

With the prevalence of youth sports and club teams and private coaches, kids are being forced into choosing a particular sport or activity at younger and younger ages. Sports don’t change with the seasons like they did when I was a kid. Now, it’s one sport–all year round! Kids are not only discouraged but often flat out told they can’t participate in any other sport.

Kids are often spread too thin. More and more studies are showing that over-participation and hyper-specialization results in more and more serious overuse injuries in young athletes. On top of that, mentally and emotionally, kids are burning out by the time high school sports roll around.

The idea of the renaissance man is under attack. (Heck, even the 1994 film, Renaissance Man only has a 17% rating from the critics on Rotten Tomatoes!)

Broad-based training and knowledge isn’t fostered much. What ever happened to cross training? (Not to be confused with Crossfit.)

I took an informal poll this past spring of a group of my former Badgers teammates, many of whom were lamenting the specialization and the amount of time spent transporting their kids to sports practices and games. Of the 8 or so former Division 1 football players–a couple had played in the NFL, ALL of us played multiple sports all the way through high school.

So, when I hear parents say they HAVE to get their kids started early and specialized in one sport if they’re going to get a college scholarship or even play on their high school teams, I highly doubt that.

Why are parents, coaches, instructors, so heavily pre-determining the interests of our children?  Their under a misguided notion that it’s what best prepares their kids for future success. While well-intentioned, some adults are losing the forest for the trees in wanting the best for their kids.

Parents should expose their kids to a wide variety of interests-explore sports and music and art and science, etc…and see what takes.

Cash has already taken art and music classes and will be playing any and every sport once he’s old enough.

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We want to develop his skills and curiosity along the way. And meet different types of people. We want to prepare him for the world and help him find challenges, failures, success and enjoyment.

All the while learning more and more about who he is and ideally turns into a man who can “do all things he will.”

Isn’t that the success we wish for our kids?

 

 

 

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Ball Control

It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Indeed. As we scurry to get last minute presents-are we the only ones?-it’s important to keep perspective.

I’ll repeat from a previous post…let’s stay present among the presents.

With all the gifts bestowed and such, I can’t imagine our kids don’t develop a form of ADD.

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Cash has 20 plus toys to play with in the Cash cave-and more upstairs.  He will pick something up and it might take a few thoughts to figure out, that’s okay, but when there’s the next shiny object right beside him, why bother?

This overstimulating array of toys needs to be curbed so we’re going to start stocking a lot of them away and then rotate them in.  Granted, more will still come in-Cash’s grandparents will be grandparents and are entitled to some spoiling-but Meghan and I have made a pact to choose quality over quantity when it comes to gifts.

Sometimes when you have little, you treasure it more, and you can learn more about life from it.  I know this firsthand.

On my 11th birthday, my golden one, I received a brand new Spalding NBA basketball.

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I took it with me every day to the park in the summer and bounced it a thousand times in my driveway and thousand more times I shot it at the basket above our garage.

I knew that ball well, the worn pores edged with flakes of orange, broken in and faded at the seams…my hands comfortably formed around it as I prepped to flick the wrist follow through and watch it majestically spin and soar right through the net. (Hey, it’s my memory and I like to remember the swishes more than the bricks, okay?!)

That following summer, I brought the ball with me to my dad’s Thursday night softball league game.

The softball diamond was part of a park that had a basketball court, playground, tennis courts and a large field.

Other kids and I would run off and play games, horse, or just shoot around during our dads’ game.  Sorry, dad, but hard for an 11 year old to sit through an entire adult softball game. Besides, we could always pause when one of our dads was at the plate and watch his at-bat from afar.

We’d play right past the end of the game until we were hollered in by one of our parents.

Some of us would gather our shoes-what is it with kids thinking they are faster with their shoes off?-and any other equipment we had brought with us.

One night, I went back to the basketball court to collect my beloved ball where I’d left it but the area was empty.

The light towers around the softball fields cast some big shadows so I sprinted around frantically with extra beats thumping my heart.

I yelled to a few friends to help me look for the ball and as we cased our many steps throughout the night, we didn’t find it. I searched in the panic of a mother looking for her child.

After taking a few laps and stalling my parents calls to get going, I dejectedly walked empty-handed to the car.

“What took you so long? When we call you, we expect you to…where’s your ball?”  I sped through the explanation that “someone had stolen it!”  A cry hung at the edges of my words that vacillated between anger and sadness and despair.

My parents didn’t have much sympathy but talked about responsibility and taking care of your stuff.  Yes, it seems someone “stole” it or maybe took by accident but either way, I was responsible for ensuring my property’s safety and in this case, I failed.

It was a quiet ride home as I imagined who would have taken the ball and what I could have done to not be in this situation-thrown it in the trunk of our car and then gone off and played tag.  Ugh, it seemed so simple now.

I asked my dad if he’d buy me another ball.  He would not. I later asked my mom, hoping for a different answer…and didn’t get it.

“We already bought you a ball. YOU will have to buy your next ball.”  What?! I had, like, no money! How am I gonna buy a cool ball?! Those are like $40, which might as well have been $4000 dollars to a jobless 11 year old.

I scrounged together what I had that next week and came up with $16.  Winter would hit in a few months so I couldn’t wait and spent my life savings on a $14 ball (damn sales tax!).

This bargain ball was a total dud-a brand that neither me or nor my friends had ever heard of. It had a plastic-y, strange shade of orange look and feel. It took terrible, unreasonably erratic bounces off the rim. It was impossible to put any touch on the ball because you couldn’t get a good grip.  I aired these complaints to my parents who shrugged. “Well, that’s what you get when you don’t take care of your stuff.”

I was embarrassed to bring my dumb ball to the park. My friends and I never used it as a game ball and even thought it might be nice to leave it for someone to steal but knew it would stay right where I left it even if I tried.

It was a serious bummer on the rest of my summer!

But, as a parent now, I appreciate that my parents stuck to their guns to teach me responsibility. I’m sure they felt bad for me but also didn’t want to be buying a new ball every other month.

They could have played up the victimhood that summer night…”Oh, that’s awful! Who would take a little boy’s ball?! What kind of world are we living in?!”  But, that type of defeated talk is poisonous for kids to hear. Makes them feel powerless and the world is an evil place.  So be it if that’s what you think but your kid has the opportunity to have a better, more positive outlook on life and why deprive them of that?

My parents put a positive spin on the situation. Take good care of what you can control.

The best way to go is to put your energies into doing things right to attain your desired outcomes.  Sure, life’s seas get rough and you may go off course for awhile.  But don’t let misfortunes and the storms be your guide.  Trust you can always right the ship because your hands are on the wheel…your direction is literally in your hands.

A few months later, at my October birthday, I opened a non-descript square wrapped gift.  A brand new Spalding NBA ball stared at me!

It was the best gift I’d ever received.

A ball wrapped in a lesson…that I can pass on to Cash.

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