Becoming My Father

I'm a thirty-something lesbian who lives in L.A. I majored in English lit and did the Peace Corps after college. Sometimes I drive my electric car to work, but most days I just ride my bike. Did I mention we used cloth diapers for all three kids?

I've got "left-wing" written all over me.

Yet lately something funny has been happening. I can't tell if some secret inner Republican buried deep inside me is starting to creep out or if I'm just turning into my father.

Zadie is now attending an alternative charter school that has a lot of unusual rules. For example, the kids can't wear any clothing or backpacks with commercial characters. Screen time is not allowed during the school week. The food you feed your children should be nutritious and preferably organic.

It just so happens that our family pretty much practices all of those principles anyway (we don't even own a television), but for some reason when I was sitting in the auditorium with all of the other parents a few nights before school started, I felt like rising up against the nanny state. I realized my stream of consciousness sort of resembled a Sarah Palin rant I'd heard before.

I've also been a little heavy-handed with a few situations at work lately, both involving a young employee who irritates me a little bit. Why does he irritate me? Oh, just because I don't think he shows proper deference to authority. Who am I?! I keep on telling myself that it's really not my job to go around trying to instill respect for authority into people, especially given that I don't even supervise this person! It reminds me of Gus from Lonesome Dove not tolerating rude behavior (my father suffers from this same affliction).

And I don't even need to tell you how many times I'm reminded of my father when I'm dealing with an unruly or disrespectful child of mine!

Lastly, one night when we were visiting Tori's family over Thanksgiving, I came back from seeing a friend and her family was playing a new, rather raunchy card game. I sat at the table and hung out for half an hour or so before I went to bed. Or at least that's what I thought I was doing. Later multiple in-laws told me they thought I seemed really uncomfortable and offended by the inappropriateness of the topics being discussed. I wasn't offended at all by the game and I actually thought it was really amusing. But, since apparently I've become my father, apparently I now exude some kind of fatherly/motherly disapproval and have serious facial expressions even when I'm having fun!

Don't get me wrong, there is no one in the world I love or admire more than my father. But he's the father and I'm the kid. This must be part of the aging process. I guess I've heard people joke about turning into their parents before, but I feel like this is kind of different. Maybe because we're not the same gender.

And because I'm a thirty-something lesbian who lives in L.A., majored in English lit and did the Peace Corps. My dad, on the other hand, is a successful businessman who grew up in East Texas in the 1950s and served with special forces in Vietnam. Kind of different.

You'd be off the mark if you tried to judge either one of us by the obvious demographics. You don't know what kind of authoritarian, traditional values streak lurks within this particular thirty-something L.A. lesbian. And you'd be pretty surprised about how thoughtful and open-minded a guy who grew up in segregated East Texas and served in the military can be.

I love you, Dad!

Daily Newspaper Ritual (this time with Zadie)

I'm very devoted to the daily newspaper (Tori would say overly devoted!), so it made me very happy for Zadie to join in the fun a few weekends ago. She can only read basic words at this point, but she still likes to pick the words out. She's very curious about what she sees in the pictures, but unfortunately most of the topics are very complex and upsetting to try and explain to her.

Sometimes I feel scared about the fact that at least two of my three children are now at the point when they can pretty much remember everything from here on out. Like I really need to step up my game and be a lot nicer now that everything is on the record.

I try to think honestly and objectively about what my kids will remember about me during these early years. Though this isn't very flattering to share, I think the main things my kids will remember about me when they try to pull something out of their hazy memories will be newspapers, beer, a hot temper, and that I was the parent who hooked them up with treats. It's not that I drink a lot of beer, but a few nights per week I have a bottle of beer with dinner and the kids (and Tori!) like to make a really huge deal about that and Zadie even told her pre-school teacher that I love to drink beer (thanks for that, Zadie!).

I'd like to fix the part about having a hot temper, but I'm often torn between accepting myself as the parent that I am versus constantly trying to improve. I want to be better about my temper, but I don't want to be wracked with mom guilt and I also feel like it's okay if kids are on the receiving end of an angry parent every once in a while. Luckily, they have another mom who is much nicer (but not when it comes to treats!).

Friends Without Kids

Like a good park ranger, I dragged my friends out to our visitor center before they headed back to the city!

We had an overnight visit this past weekend from a bunch of grad school friends, none of whom have children (though one is due in less than a month!). In addition to the fact that these are good, quality people who I enjoy being with, I always notice how much I enjoy being around friends who don't have kids.

Friends without kids are typically much more interested and amused by your children than friends who have kids and are either too busy dealing with their own kids or are just so thrilled to have a break from dealing with little people that they can barely give your kids the time of day. I'm not judging because I do the same thing. But to friends without kids, our kids are so funny and interesting -- probably because they don't spend all day long with kids!!

Anyway, it's refreshing to be around people who find my children fun to be with. It's like seeing your kids through rose-colored glasses. It makes me enjoy them more and feel like they have unique, creative, and sweet little personalities.

Just look at this photo. See those three little goofballs and their funny personalities? I saw them more clearly this weekend because of the dear adults in this photo. A good visit that was good for my soul!

Birthdays After You've Had Children

This was the fancy Malibu dinner I refer towards the end of this very long post about birthdays.

I think it's typical for birthdays to generate more excitement when you're a kid than when you're an adult, but I've found it to be exactly the opposite. Since I was kind of socially awkward around other kids my age (my best friend was 55 years old), I felt really uncomfortable about birthdays.

My parents were probably relieved that my sister and I weren't big on parties and certainly didn't push the issue. Mostly I just had a special dinner with my family (ribs or fried chicken on the special red plate!) and oatmeal cookies for dessert.

I'd also ask to go horseback riding, so my dad would take me to a stable right on the Mexican border where you rode along the fence and could look right over at Tijuana. Looking back on it, it amazes me that  people actually paid for that experience, and I'm not sure I recall seeing any other customers. (I had to put the dig in about going horseback riding for one hour per year just to annoy my parents since they resisted all my pleadings to buy me a horse and I would probably have become a famous horse whisperer.)

I didn't really know how to execute a great birthday when I was younger. As I got older, I became judgmental of people who put too much energy in having a great birthday (and were crushed if it didn't turn out perfectly). But then I had children and now I cherish every single birthday and stretch it out for as long as possible (someday I'll have to do a post about all the things I was judgmental about before I having kids humbled me and brought me to my knees).

This year was no different. I had a very special birthday dinner with my parents and nephew in Malibu (seriously, Malibu?), a great day with 12 other friends squeezed around a circular table at a Sichuan restaurant, and a day off from work that I spent shopping with my mom.

Before kids, birthdays weren't important to me because my whole life was all about me anyway, so what was the difference? I did whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, approximately 365 days a year. I'm not saying people without kids are self-absorbed -- just that I was! I had so few responsibilities and was as free as a little bird (lots of people without kids have responsibilities I didn't have, like debt, family obligations, etc).

Now that I feel the weight of so many responsibilities -- like how I can't just quit my job and travel the world for six months like Tori and I once did -- a birthday is really special because it's an opportunity to be selfish, down to the very smallest detail like not doing the dishes and only doing the fun stuff with the kids and none of the yucky stuff (reading books instead of wiping kids' bottoms!).

I don't mean to imply that I'm a selfless martyr who spends my days scrubbing toilets and cooking meals for my three kids, but there's no getting away from the fact that I'm jointly responsible for the lives of three small human beings.

So I've definitely come around on the birthday issue. I say hooray for grown folks milking those birthdays for all their worth.

Just 355 days till the next one...

Pretend You're Not There

I've written previously about how completely wrong I was about what parenting would be like.  But for the past two Saturdays, all my fantasies about the kids happily and creatively playing together (while I do something else and lovingly glance over at them) have actually come true!

Yes, there are occasionally tears and issues that need to be resolved.  And of course I have to perform some basic motherly duties such as feeding and wiping runny noses.  But it's also kind of like I'm not even there.  And that's a good thing.

They're coming up with their own imaginative play and even resolving disputes on their own.  While I was blissfully vacuuming and mopping (five years ago you couldn't have convinced me that cleaning a house could be such a Zen experience!), I saw the kids:

• make a rocket ship out of a flipped-over trash can and go into space
• pretend to be a mama bird who teaches her baby bird how to fly and eat (this lasted 15 minutes)
• pass out several golf balls (gathered from the nearby creek) to golfers who were passing by our backyard.  One guy gave them a dollar for four golf balls, though I made sure they weren't soliciting donations!
• climb a rather difficult tree in our backyard (though she did need help getting down)

So obviously I've been trying to figure out why things have been so awesome lately.  I think it's partly because these two Saturdays have been totally out of the ordinary in that we've actually spent the entire day at home.  That's very unheard of in our lives.  Last Saturday Tori had to work and so she gave me all kinds of suggestions about all the really amazing and enriching activities I could do with them, which I naturally ignored.  I just stayed home instead.

Today we stayed home all day, too, which was only really possible because Tori was suffering from cramps and spent a fair amount of the day in bed with a heating pad.  She typically has to be either working or debilitated in some way for us not to spend the weekend bouncing from activity to activity.

In addition to just staying home all day, the other factor in what I would call a minor parenting success (but just about the only one I've ever had!) is that I made a very conscious effort to pretend I wasn't there.  I've had some form of this strategy operating for quite some time -- I think Tori finds it kind of annoying, but I also think she's finding it harder to argue with its benefits.  I know it runs counter to the whole idea of how nowadays we're supposed to really engage with our kids and spend quality time with them.  Tori is really good at facilitating play, but then sometimes I feel like the down side of that is that the kids look to her for entertainment so much.  

Obviously everything should be done in moderation and I'm not suggesting people ignore their kids -- I still love laughing with them and reading to them and having big family dance parties at night in front of the sliding glass door.  But I do think there is something to getting out of their way and letting kids take charge of imaginative play and problem-solving.  

I always wish that I had more of those parenting-in-the-movies moments when you're just totally overcome with feelings of love and affection for your children -- I have them, but just not nearly as often as I would like.  Watching my three kids spend an entire day playing joyfully and imaginatively -- and never complaining about being bored -- is definitely one of those experiences.

So that's a new parenting tool I'm going to try out.  Pretend you're not there.

(Obviously this has a limited application and doesn't work when you have to get the kids dressed, feed them, bathe them, discipline them, etc.  But it also forces us to make sure we're actually providing enough opportunities to get out of their way and let them make their kid magic.)

Charlie Runs Into His Teachers' Arms Now!

Since so many of you expressed condolences over how difficult the transition to daycare was, especially on Charlie, I thought an update was in order. Charlie now runs into his teachers' arms!

Big phew. Tori is usually the one to drop the kids off, and she asks him to find his classroom. So he runs through the hallways excitedly finding his classroom and then runs into one of his teachers' arms. With gusto. Let me tell you, that is a much better way to start of your day than our previous reality.

I wouldn't blame these teachers if they were fed up with him and didn't exactly look forward to his arrival, considering all the screaming he did that first week. But I guess that's why they work at a daycare and I don't. Somehow they seemed to genuinely be happy to see him and two of them individually told me touching stories about how much they like him and how they take photos of him to show their elderly mother (who had 10 redheads of her own!) and other family members.

This makes me think of how, not too long ago, the only career choices for a woman were to be a nurse or a teacher. Both are very important careers, but given my queasy stomach and the fact that I'm not very talented with young people (or at lesson-planning), I would have really struggled. And if I had to make my living working at a daycare center, I would be concerned for my family's welfare. So I'm thankful that times have changed and there are so many options for women now!

A Day to Hug Your Kids Tight

This photo is from a few months ago, but I love it because it's so hard to get all three kids smiling so happily and naturally.  It seemed like an appropriate photo for a post about being thankful for each one of them.

It seems like there's news about a terrible shooting about once a month these days, but today's shooting at a school in Connecticut is disturbing on a whole different level given that 20 very young children died.  Obviously that makes you think of your own kids and generally scares the heck out of you (I saw a few friends posting on Facebook about wanting to homeschool their kids).

So this afternoon when I went to pick the kids up from daycare I decided we were going to have an "I love my children" evening with movies, candy, and hot chocolate with little marshmallows.  I told them we were going to have a really special night and that I wanted them to know how much I loved them, but they were kind of missing the context since they don't know anything about the shooting (one of the benefits of not having a television) and I certainly didn't want to share.  They didn't notice me getting choked up when I was trying to talk to them about how much I love them.  Luckily they were much more concerned about what specific candy and treats would be involved.

We came home and they each got to pick a show to watch on the computer -- that's three whole television shows!  Tori made salmon for dinner and then we gave them hot chocolate with teensy marshmallows.

Unfortunately, I had a hard time staying focused on happy, loving thoughts because each one of them was being kind of a pain in the neck (sometimes spoiling your kids for one night actually leads to really annoying behavior, as it turns out).

Regardless, today is definitely a day to hug your kids tighter than normal, spoil them a little bit more, and just generally give thanks that they're safe and healthy.  I'm so, so sorry for the families that don't get to do that tonight.

Tori's New Job, and What That Means for the Kiddos

After nine months of staying home with the kids, Tori started her new position with the National Park Service this week.  I'm really excited for her because I know that she'll enjoy her work -- her main focus will be to attract diverse and nontraditional audiences to engage with the park.  This is actually the third time (in a row) that we've worked for the same organization, so I suppose it was just a matter of time before it happened.  There are many things I really love about working with Tori, although this time around we're in a much larger office and won't work together too closely.

Although I think her decision to accept this position was the right one for our family, it's been really hard these first few days.  This is the first time we've ever put our kids in full-time daycare and Charlie has been really unhappy about it.  He's not one to keep his feelings bottled up inside, and the screams of despair have been really hard to take.  I know it will get better, but for now it just keeps getting worse because he's building up anxiety earlier and earlier in the morning.  

Sometimes I think mothers over-dramatize how torn apart they are when leaving their kids behind to go to work.  I personally have never really experienced that in the past.  It was more like, "Catch you later."  But this situation with Charlie has been really emotionally exhausting and I feel like it's clawing at my heart in a way I've never experienced before.  I think it's partly because Charlie is a way less go-with-the-flow than Skip or Zadie (and this is his first time in daycare), partly because it gets dark so early right now, and mostly because we always had the good fortune of having Uncle Hank.  Leaving your kids at a little institution is just a much harder experience (though Skip and Zadie did go to a local daycare a few days a week).  There's something about doing it five days a week that seems really hard.

Then again, I know plenty of people whose kids have been in similar situations since they were three months old and it's not like I look at those kids with pity.  I've never been one of those people who think it's a travesty to have kids in daycare all day.

But this Charlie thing is killing me!  

Parenting from Behind the Newspaper

Tori went to a bunch of garage sales with a friend this morning.  She's been gone about three hours so far and I'm happy to report that I've spent most of the morning parenting from behind a newspaper.  Without incident, no less.  

This is what I always thought it would be like to be a parent.  I could do my own thing while occasionally glancing over at my children busily playing amongst themselves.  Needless to say, it hasn't been my reality thus far.  I was very misinformed about what parenting was all about.  I often wonder why people close to me didn't do a better job disabusing me about all my stupid ideas about parenting and what a piece of cake it would be.  But then I remember that I refused to listen to anyone and was determined that they were exaggerating and not understanding how very basic parenting can be in other parts of the world.  Alas, I don't live in a small village in a foreign land where children run far and wide, unsupervised, and playing with sticks and stones.  Or in 1950s East Texas, where my dad and his siblings experienced basically the same thing.

So that's why this morning has been so revelatory.  Our previous weekends as parents have been jam-packed with activities designed to keep us from going completely bonkers in a household of three wild children.  Does this mean that I can reclaim Saturday morning and read the newspaper while the kids happily entertain themselves without serious injury?  Maybe I could actually start a novel.  Was it just a matter of time, and age, until my vision of parenting really kicked in?  Now convincing Tori to stay home is another matter entirely...

Stay tuned.

Meeting Zadie's Sperm Donor (and How We Built Our Family)

Can you see the resemblance?  Sammie also brought his dad along and we had a nice picnic with wine and cheese.

I'm not sure if this blog has ever spelled out how we all came to be a family, which is a common question we get since we obviously didn't do it the old-fashioned way.  Our original thought was that Tori and I would each have a biological child (since we wanted to have the experience of being pregnant and giving birth) and we would also adopt two kids from the foster care system.

I used a sperm donor to get pregnant with Zadie (more on that in a moment), and then Tori had trouble getting pregnant, so we skipped that step and proceeded directly to adopting from the foster care system.  We've had Skip since he was four days old and his adoption went through when he was nine months old.  We were planning to wait a few years and then adopt an older sibling set, but then we got a call that Skip's birth mom had another baby and so that's how we ended up with three kids under three years of age!

When we were choosing a sperm donor, we knew we wanted an "open" donor, which is a donor that agrees to be contacted when the child turns 18 (obviously only if the child is interested).  We always wanted this option for Zadie and figured it would be an interesting process many years down the road.  As it turns out, we got connected to other offspring of our donor via the sperm bank's sibling registry and that has evolved into a blog that then attracted the attention of the donor himself.  He has since started blogging about being a sperm donor and expressed interest in meeting one of the children so we set up a meeting with him at a local park.

I know that all of this is kind of new and different (the whole concept of using a sperm donor, much less meeting him at your local park!), but actually it was a very positive experience and I'm very happy not only with the product of all of this (Zadie!), but also the person we chose and his approach to this.

Meeting your sperm donor can be a little tricky on both sides.  I want him to be friendly and interested, but not too friendly and interested.  He's not her dad and I don't want him envisioning that kind of role in her life. At the same time, I appreciated his interest to know her, spend time with her, and really learn about her.  We're so happy that we chose a kind, caring, and very likeable person to be Zadie's sperm donor.  As time goes on, it will be up to Zadie whether this is a relationship that is important to her, but we are happy to know that the relationship is available to her if she's interested.  Honestly, the meeting couldn't have gone any better.

As you can see from the photo, Zadie and Sammie have the exact same eyes.  Sammie commented to his dad that she had the family's "cinnamon" eyes, which we've never been sure how to describe.

Turning the Tables: Piercings

A few nights ago Tori called me from Portland to tell me that she had just gotten her nose pierced.  She had been talking about it for a while, so I wasn't too surprised about that.  Then she asked whether Zadie could get her nose pierced, too.  I said of course not.  Tori pointed out that it's totally normally in East Indian culture for little girls to have their noses pierced and I said that's terrific, but she's clearly not East Indian.

I could hear Zadie in the background pushing the issue and I told Tori to tell her that in America, it's not normal for little girls to get their noses pierced.  Zadie then said that she didn't want to be normal and that she wanted to be really unique.

The irony is not lost upon me that I am now trying to force my daughter to be "normal" when few kids fought harder against that definition than I did.  My mom eventually gave up her battles with me (I outlasted her), but I definitely remember the arguments over the dresses and skirts she wanted me to wear and the cutesie hairstyles she attempted.  I also remember her brushing my hair every night before I went to bed and putting those squishy pink curlers in my hair that I had to sleep with.  As a mother, I now look back and think, wow, that was a serious act of love that she spent all that time doing that, but at the time I seriously hated every minute of it.  I credit my mom for letting go of those battles with me at a relatively young age.  For the most part, I think I was free to be poorly dressed with ratty sneakers and a bowl cut from about kindergarten on.  After that point, she was pretty selective in the battles she chose.

So my own personal history can sometimes make me think twice about trying to force Zadie to conform.  In this case, the compromise was that she got to have her ears pierced (see photo below).  She didn't cry one bit and she's really happy with her newly pierced ears.

I don't know how old I was when my mom had my ears pierced, but young enough that I don't remember it. As soon as I began exercising more freedom with my appearance, I promptly took those earrings out and let the holes close (I got them pierced again when I was in my early twenties).  It will be interesting to see how this evolves with Zadie.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

Tori and the kids have been gone for almost seven weeks now.  This has its advantages and disadvantages.

In the week or two leading up to their departure, I was a total wreck.  I instructed everyone around me (including my boss and co-workers) not to say anything about Costa Rica or my family leaving.  I cried at night when I was trying to fall asleep and I also cried sitting in my office and in the lunchroom.  It was terrible.  

Then when they arrived in Costa Rica and I started Skyping with them, it was even worse.  Trying to hold a conversation with little kids over a bad video connection is hard enough, but I couldn't even talk.  I just cried when I saw their little faces.  And then Zadie would ask Tori why I was crying.  At one point, Grandma Linda said she had to leave the room because it was too painful to watch.  

I'm not even sure why I was crying -- I was just totally beset with weeping for a few weeks.  So that would be the worst of times.

Then it got better and it started to seem normal that I was living in L.A. and my wife and three kids were in another country.  Weird how things just normalize like that.  

And, all along, I knew that I should be using the time away from the kids to enjoy as much adult time as possible.  It was kind of hard to do this with the long hours and long commute, but a few weeks ago I moved into a new house close to work and so now I've had more time to do all the reading and writing I was going to do.  Just kidding!  I've had more time to get hooked on the HBO series "The Wire."  That's what I've been doing instead of blogging and reading books!

The best of times has really been the chance to spend time with family and friends.  I had a really nice adult vacation to San Diego to visit my parents, including a three-hour train ride that went by much too quickly.  I've also been fortunate to spend pretty much every weekend with dear friends that I don't get to spend enough time with otherwise -- with lots of sleepovers!  Here are photos from a very nice day last weekend at CicLAvia, a day when they shut down about 10 miles in downtown Los Angeles for bicycles!

Gourmet brunch at Short Order in The Grove. Just a tad nicer than my breakfast routine when the kids are around.

My bike was unavailable, but Pear let me borrow hers for a spin around 7th Street.

I've been soaking up lots of quality time with Pear, Benny, and Suzan (left to right).

10 Things I Want to Do While My Family is Away

Though I will certainly miss my family over the next few months, I also know that this is an opportunity to do all of the adult stuff that I miss so much.  Basically I'm envisioning a life of arts and culture. 

Who knows what I'll actually accomplish, but here are a few of the things, in no particular order, that I'd like to tackle in my spare time (aside from learning the ropes at my new job):

1.  Read 10 books.  I'm open to suggestions, but I do know that I'd like to read "A Visit from the Goon Squad."

2.  Attend a lecture or two at the downtown library.

3.  Ride public transit on the weekends.

4.  Go on four long hikes in the National Park System.  My first one is this Saturday.

5.  Watch all of the Ken Burns' America's Best Idea series.

6.  Spend a weekend with my parents as an adult, without children!

7.  Babysit for friends or family who have done so much to help my own family.

8.  Do a service project one weekend.

9.  Go on an L.A. Conservancy Walking Tour

10.  Finally do the CicLAvia bicycle route in April (which I haven't been able to do the past few times for child-related reasons).

Top Ten Favorite Children's Books

Before I had kids, I was really excited about reading books to my children.  I still really like it and I'm always impressed at how much our kids actually want to read books.  Zadie liked being read to from a very young age, but Charlie and Skip have both taken a bit longer (Charlie has only recently been capable of sitting through a book without throwing it or trying to rip the pages).  I would guess that I average about three children's books per day, so over four years of parenting that would be more than 1,000 books!

Of course mostly I'm reading the same twenty books over and over again because the kids definitely have favorites.  And, like them, I also have my favorites.  It amazes me how big of a difference there is between a book that I really enjoy reading and the books that I dread reading.  

So here are my very favorite children's books (that we own, at least), in no particular order:

1.  Anything by Dr. Seuss, but especially There's a Wocket in my Pocket and The Cat in the Hat.

2.  Parts and More Parts by Tedd Arnold.

3.  You Read to Me, I'll Read to You by Mary Ann Hoberman

4.  Harold and the Purple Crayon by Crockett Johnson

5.  I'm Gonna Like Me by Jamie Lee Curtis and Laura Cornell

6.  Santa's Kwanzaa by Garen Eileen Thomas (good when you're sick of all the other Christmas books!)

7.  The Family Book and It's Okay to Be Different by Todd Parr

8.  Little Miss Busy and the whole series by Roger Hargreaves

9.  Moo, Baa, Lalala and anything else by Santa Boynton

10.  Zin! Zin! Zin! a Violin by Lloyd Moss

Although I know they're popular I think I kind of dread reading Silverlicious and the Fancy Nancy books because I've read them so many times and I think the overly girly characters don't resonate with me -- and they're just too long!  Tori's least favorite is the original Curious George books because she's very disturbed by how they portray life at the zoo as the most enviable fate for a monkey from the wild. 

My Vacation from the Kids

My very relaxing vacation spot!

I've noticed I take a bit more time off from my children than other moms I know, many of whom have never spent a night apart from their children, much less actually taken a vacation from them.  Maybe part of it is because we have two moms in our household and so caregiving for the kids is divided differently.  But I know that a significant part of this difference between me and other moms is because I probably require more adult time than other moms to keep me happy and healthy.

With this is mind, I arranged to spend three days in Austin with my aunt and uncle after Christmas.  I wanted to give myself the gift of a mini-vacation before I start my next job (I'll write more about that later).

I can't describe how wonderful my trip was, on so many levels.  First of all, I really enjoy my Aunt Dana and Uncle Mark and it was nice to have so many long and meaningful conversations with them (without kids interrupting me, I might add!).  And of course Austin is a great place to visit, especially their amazing neighborhood.

I saw two live music performances at very small venues, and left with my first-ever New Year's resolution: to watch more live music in L.A.  I also had some great meals, nice walks through the neighborhood, and lots and lots of down time.  I had plenty of time to catch up on reading (I finished What Is the What about the Lost Boys of Sudan and started Bossypants), I watched a movie in bed during the middle of the day (can't remember the last time I did that!), and got caught up on my blog.

I'm lucky to have a wife who supports my need for adult time (as do my parents, who were watching Zadie during this time).  And of course I'm thankful to my aunt and uncle for being such great hosts!

When Charlie Starts to Walk...

I've always been pretty good at being content.  I know some people who struggle to enjoy the moment since they're kind of preoccupied with the next thing, whether that's a new adventure or a new material good or a change in status.  Unfortunately, since I've become a parent (of multiple children at least), I find myself guilty of the same compulsion.  I often find myself looking forward to the next developmental stage because I like to imagine that life is going to be soooo much easier once I get to that next stage.

When Charlie was an extremely unhappy newborn, I was very focused on making it to three months because I had heard that's when all that colic-y stuff ends.  As my dad would say, I was in "survival mode" to make it to that milestone.  Turns out that crying stuff didn't go away until the six-month mark and when it did, life was definitely much easier but I quickly found something else to focus on.  I remember one big milestone I was focused on was when we could transition him off the bottle.  I thought that was going to be a big life-changer.  I did a Facebook post about never washing another bottle again for the rest of my life.

But somehow I don't think that really changed much (it's not like you don't have to wash sippy cups!).  My latest preoccupation is Charlie walking.  This child is pushing 15 months and still not walking (although he has definitely taken steps and I need to catch it on video).  It seems like I've been telling anyone who would listen for the past six months that as soon as Charlie starts walking, things will be a lot easier.

This time, I can't help but believe this is going to be a game-changer.  First of all, he's really heavy.  I think he weighs around 35 lbs and that's a lot of weight to be lugging around all the time.  Secondly, he's really happy when he's playing with his siblings, but he gets sad when he gets left behind all the time because they're running around without him.  I have a vision that involves my three children frolicking together, skipping around and running, just as happy as can be.  When Charlie starts to walk, they'll be so happy playing together that there won't be any crying or fighting and there probably won't even be much need for parenting, really.  I think I'll just sit at the kitchen table sipping my green tea and casually reading the newspaper while glancing up occasionally to watch them frolicking around in the yard.

It's gonna be great.

Enjoying the Kids

Today we were driving the kids back home from a friend's house in Long Beach and Skip and Zadie were behaving terribly.  They were fighting, crying, and whining.  I told Tori that I was really surprised that our kids weren't better behaved.  I really thought my children would be such model citizens.  I don't know if this is just normal kid behavior or if our kids are more whiny than other kids, but I just really don't think that my brother and sister and I could have acted like that when we were kids.  I'm not sure what my parents were doing differently.  Were we just too afraid to act like that because of being punished (not that my parents were overly strict)?  Do Tori and I coddle our kids?  I don't think that's the case -- most of the time it seems like I get better results being patient than being really strict and upset with them.

Then we came home and had lunch (it's another rainy day) and lit a fire in the fireplace.  Skip sat on a chair near the fire and stared into the fire, mesmerized as if he was watching a really good cartoon on television.  He let me sit with him and cuddle next to the fire and we read books together.  They all ate well and were very excited about getting crackers as a reward for eating their lunches (such a treat!).

Suddenly our kids seemed so sweet and well-behaved.  I don't know what to make of all this.  I just wish I could figure out how to make our kids sweet all the time.  I often feel like Rodney King: "Can't we all just get along?"

Occupy L.A. & Questioning Authority

This past Friday we had the day off because of Veteran's Day, so we decided to take the train downtown to visit the Occupy L.A. protest in front of City Hall.  This was mainly Tori's idea, but I thought it might be a good civics lesson and memory for the kids.

Side-note: I have a lot of great memories of time I spent with my grandma in Texas, but one of my very favorites is taking her to a huge anti-Iraq war protest when she came to visit me and my sister in San Francisco.  Now that was really something to see, with hundreds of thousands of people pouring into the streets and marches and artwork and music.  Imagine you're an 80-year-old woman who was raised on a dairy farm in East Texas and your crazy granddaughters make you push your way onto a ridiculously crowded train to see it all.  Actually, she loved it because of the great people-watching!

Anyway, I think Tori maybe had some visions of a big movement with a drum circle and people passionate about their cause.  Instead we found lots of tents and a scattering of people, but most of them were clearly homeless and mentally ill.  Tori was really disappointed about the whole arrangement.  Still, we took this photo to remember the occasion.

Before we arrived at the protest, I tried explaining to Zadie what a protest was and why sometimes people decide to protest against a government or a company or whatever the case may be.  But I didn't delve into too much detail because I realized I didn't want to plant any crazy ideas about questioning the authority figures in her life.  I have enough trouble without her deciding she wants to start protesting her parents' rule.

And I speak from personal experience on this because when I was about 10 years old I remember spending a Saturday morning watching Bridge on the River Kwai and being so deeply moved by the hunger strike of the main character that I was inspired to start my own hunger strike.  My cause?  I demanded that my mom make me pancakes and vowed not to eat anything until she did.  I gave in around late afternoon, I think.

No Standards Whatsoever, Part 2

A long time ago (when we only had two kids, which seems like a really long time ago), I did a post about how Tori and no longer had any standards when it came to our normally clean house.  I had a photo of me reading the newspaper on the couch in my pajamas while surrounded by a messy array of toys and other items.

But that was nothing compared to the lapse tonight.  Charlie was constipated and crying while trying to poop, so Tori and I had to put his legs in the proper position and then kind of massage the poop out of him (I realize this must sound awful, but I assume every parent has had to do this at some point).  Anyway, some time passed and I was rinsing my dinner plate.  That's when it hit me that I had not washed my hands between massaging the poop out and eating my dinner.  Really disturbing.  Even more disturbing?  We had fish tacos for dinner...you know, the kind you eat with your hands?

Time Alone

Whenever I have time alone or, more accurately, time away from our children, I feel a big countdown clock looming above me. As in, you have four hours of adult time that you must take full advantage of. There's a certain amount of stress involved because there is so much urgency and (self-imposed) pressure to make the absolute most of the time.

Yesterday Tori took the three kids to a party at her aunt's house and I had from 1:30pm to 7pm all to myself. That is an extraordinary gift and I was a little unsure how to use it. Here were some of my thoughts on how best to use the time:

--Do absolutely nothing so that I became so bored that I was actually excited to see my family when they came home and wishing they would hurry up and arrive. I quickly dismissed this option as unrealistic.

--Catch up on sleep. This was very appealing, but I didn't feel tired in that particular moment and it also seemed like a bit of a waste.

--Go to a coffee shop and read. This was very appealing, but I only had my bike and the tea house I wanted to go to made for a very traffic-filled and unattractive ride.

--Spend the whole time doing a major cleaning involving toilet scrubbing and bathtub scrubbing. I dismissed this because it seemed against the whole point of my time alone.

--Go to a movie. This is the option I ultimately chose because it just so happened that I had two good friends ready and willing to go to a 2pm showing of Stupid, Crazy Love, a film I had really been wanting to see.

After the movie I still had even MORE time to maximize and, as the time comes to an end, I feel an even more intense sense of urgency. So I also read the whole Sunday paper and an issue of LA Weekly, washed the dishes and picked up the house, and started my new Spotify music account.

All in all, it was time well-spent and I owe Tori big-time for this special treat. It's way less stressful when it's a big chunk of time and you can do a couple of different things.