Plan B

It's times like this that I long for year-round school. Not school that claims to be year round, but then actually goes for eight weeks then takes two weeks off and so on. No. Real year-round school. And not just year-round. All day. Monday-Friday. 8-4. Something that the kids can go to to learn new languages. Something where they have lots of time for art and playing with friends. Something that conveniently matches my work schedule.

Yeah. Summer sucks as a working parent. (I'm sure summer sucks for stay-at-home parents too - but I'm not a stay-at-home parent and this is about me!) It's bad enough having to go from all-day day care to school that gets out at 2:45 and figuring out what to do with the kids the other 3 hours while you are still at work. But summer. Summer is this big, vacuous time snort that just hangs over your head as a parent. What to do with the kids? What to do?

Shh!! We're busy!

Sure there are camps, but have you seen recently what these camps cost? $150/week. Per kid. And some of those are HALF day! I know it's my own doing that I have three kids, but allow me to complain for a minute anyway. With one kid in day care that already costs nearly $200/week, I'm supposed to pay another $300/week for the other kids to go to camp? That's $500/week! Let's see... For an 8 week summer break (a conservative estimate) that would cost $4000. Ouch! (Just to put that in perspective: 8 weeks of day care/camp = 4 mortgage payments!) No one said child care was cheap. But at this rate, we could own a second or even third home for the amount we pay.

Given all that, you can understand our glee when I found this summer camp with Fayette County Parks and Rec that was $25/week/kid. A steal!!! A dream!!! And, as it turns out...a farce.

Yeah, we wondered from the get-go whether this was some sort of get-what-you-pay-for deal. We were a little skittish at first. But soon we found that the kids got to go to the pool, the park, do lots of fun things. They were having a blast. We were all fairly happy with it.

Of course, though, it was too good to be true. Sure all those activities are cool, but we soon discovered the camp's Achilles heel: the vans.


Yeah. The vans. The 15-passenger vans that the camp uses to transport the kids. We've all seen these vans. Churches use them. Day cares use them. Camps use them. Damon, as a TA, has taken several driver-training classes on these vans (to transport students) and has been told by a trainer that basically they are death traps. They aren't so dangerous as vans. But, ironically, add people and the weight balance shifts making them very dangerous. (In case you didn't follow the link: "15-passenger vans have a rollover risk that increases dramatically as the number of occupants increases to full capacity." Lovingly, NHTSA) Damon says he would never drive one with people in it.

Climb aboard! The more, the deadlier!

But, really, we didn't have so much of an issue with the vans, but rather the seat belts. Or lack of using them, to be exact. Especially considering the use of these vans in the first place.

When asking the kids about their day, they would tell us about this and that. When we asked about the the vans and did they wear a seat belt, they reported that the vans were so full that not only did they not use seat belts, but some kids had to stand.

Uh... what? Yeah. Standing room only, apparently. Upon hearing this, Damon called some higher-up with Parks and Rec to complain, skipping over the camp director since obviously he does not have an issue with it if he allows it to happen, which is part of the problem. Damon talked to Ms. Higher-Up and she said that she would take care of it.

The next time the kids went out in the vans, we asked how it went and they said that every one had a seat, but not everyone had a buckle. Uh...ok. I guess that's "progress." But really? What part of it's-against-the-law-to-have-a-child-unbuckled-in-a-car don't you understand? But this isn't just a legal issue. Obviously, it's a safety issue. I kept envisioning a report on the news "County Van Crashes; No Children Buckled; Many Hurt." Well, actually I envisioned a more gory scenario, but one I don't care to write down.

So Damon complained again to Ms. Higher-Up. The kids then reported that they were all buckled the next time they went out. Success! While our children's safety was the impetus for all of this, I felt a little proud that as a result of Damon's persistence, ALL the kids were a bit safer.

Until the next time. The next time the kids reported that while they were buckled, some of the kids, including our kids, had to be doubled-up (two kids buckled with the same belt). I cannot understand how this was allowed. I mean, really?? You know enough (after several "reminders") that you need to seat belt the kids, but doubling up? Come on now. It's not the letter of the law, but the spirit. This is about safety, not trying to "technically" follow the law because of some jack-hole parent who likes to bitch. (I tried to find the exact wording of the law to see if it specifies "one kid per buckle," but, for today, my library science skills* have failed me.)

Really...it's not that hard.

Soon Damon found himself talking to the person over Mr. Camp Director (but under Ms. Higher-Up who he spoke to originally). While I couldn't hear everything, I could tell it was a heated discussion. Ms. Middle-Man told Damon that she was "concerned that you are the only parent who has complained." Uh, again, really? Your concern is that you've only gotten one complaint? What about the actual complaint? Maybe the other kids don't tell their parents about the seat belts. Maybe the other parents don't ask. Maybe they don't know any better. Maybe they are so desperate to find affordable child care for the summer that they just want to look the other way and hope for the best.

While this was ridiculous, what really did it for Damon was that she basically said our kids were lying. Ms. Middle-Man never outright called them liars, but kept saying that she talked to the staff and they all said that all the children were individually buckled. Perhaps she should consider that these staff probably don't want to be called on the carpet for creating liability so soon after just having been "retrained." Are they really reliable here? Do you really think our kids are telling us this stuff for the hell of it? Do you really think we want to have this discussion about seat belts again?

Sadly, Ms. Middle-Man kept defending Mr. Camp Director and was nothing close to apologetic. The insinuations made about our kids lying and Damon complaining sealed the deal: the kids would not be going back.

It just seems so silly, so ridiculous, that this all happened. I mean, OK, they screwed up about the seat belts. We complained. It should have ended there. The fact that it got only marginally better, that Ms. Higher-Up soon bowed out of the conversation (most likely not wanting to deal with it anymore), that Ms. Middle-Man totally missed the issue and dismissed us as complainers, saddens me. But what saddens me the most is that the kids were having a good time. They were having fun at the pool, making new friends, going on paddle boats at the park. And now: not.

So here we are again... what to do? what to do? Damon's decided to stay home with the kids several days a week, and we are going to send them back to our heroes over at Kindercare the other two days a week. It's the best balance we can make between Damon's sanity and our checkbook. I swear, though, us working parents need to start a co-op. Hmmm...


* aka I couldn't find it in the top 10 Google results

Google Alert! Hoping that Lexington-Fayette County Urban Government (LFCUG) Parks and Rec has a Google Alert set up for Camp Kenwick and will maybe read this and get their act together.

No...it's not where they grow children...

One thing our small town of Lexington has is a fledgling arboretum. It actually was started in 1991, but considering the rate that many trees and plants grow, it's relatively young. But over the years we have seen it grow and develop. We've often taken the kids there to walk on the 2 mile path, to run around, to play on the fallen logs, or for some Halloween fun. It's near our house, it's always nice, and it's free.

Recently, though, they added a Children's Garden. A very nice addition...but not free. We decided to check it out anyway, but at $3 per person I don't think we'll be going there quite often.

We got there just in time for a little craft thing. They were making bees. The person running it asked the kids "How many wings do bees have?" Kestian answered "Four" but she didn't hear him. Someone else answered "Two" and she said, "That's right!" I guess it wasn't meant to be educational. But that's ok. They are cute bees anyway.


We mostly just explored the place, which was very interactive in a children's-garden sort of way...

Don't let the bed books bite

Over the years, we have taken many different approaches to getting our kids to sleep. We'd rock them. We'd walk with them. We'd sit with them. Pretty much we left it up to the kids to tell us what they needed, and then we'd try our best. Of course, that sounds all awesomely cool and hip, but in reality it was trial by fire. It's not like we had this magical connection to them, being able to sense by the slightest cry that Adelaide wanted to be walked outside, or by the way Kestian rubbed his eyes that tonight he just wanted to be rocked in a chair. No, we really had no idea what we were doing. If it got them to sleep, then we considered it a success.And what worked one night often didn't work the next night, so success redefined itself on a frequent basis.

Of course, all of our kids have been different sleepers. The fact that this is so only reinforces that there is no single approach for all kids. I've just can't put any faith in some of those parenting books that tell parents to lay down their baby while she's still awake, or baby will grow up driving a Ford and wearing paisley. Or the ones that say "don't rock your baby to sleep, or he will come to expect it every night" as if rocking your baby too sleep every night is so horrible. Oh dear! What if we create some sort of dependence in our child?! His fraternity brothers will never let this down! What I wouldn't give to just rock my baby to sleep every night.

Really though, call it attachment parenting, peaceful parenting, or bucking the what-to-expect-when-you-can't-think-for-yourself trend, but finding what works for baby is what works for us. Now that we are on our third kid, I truly believe that those parents who do get their babies to sleep in some simple fashion as rocking them or leaving them in their crib or whatever must either be baby-whisperers, liars, or are just ignoring their baby's needs because Bill O'Reilly is on. But that's neither here nor there.

What is "here" is getting Fenton to sleep. He's actually our easiest baby when it comes to bed time - something that I am very grateful for. These days, Fenton's going-to-bed routine consists of:

• Kestian and Adelaide going upstairs to bed
• A handful of goldfish crackers being placed on the coffee table for easy snacking access
• A bottle nearby to drip annoyingly on the carpet
  
• A ball to be thrown back and forth to Mommy
• DVDs to be pulled off the shelf
• Attempts to get Mommy's phone or the TV remotes
  
• A poop in the diaper, but only after getting a fresh diaper
• Dragging the cooler of bottles around and trying to stand on it
  
• Papa who walks him around and sings to him
• Mommy to sit with while falling asleep drinking a cold bottle from the cooler

Sometimes the last two steps are repeated several times, but that's how it tends to go. I'm sure we're doing it all wrong, and, according to some books, can expect to go to Hell anytime now.

Of course, last night Fenton had a second and third wind. Normally all of the above happens before 9pm. And soon after that, I'm in bed myself. But last night, it was almost 10 and he was still playing merrily about, mostly putting bottles in an empty Tupperware container and then putting them in the pantry, then getting them out, then putting them back. At least he was keeping busy.

But he didn't want Damon to walk him around, and even though he kept climbing on me, he didn't want to sit with me. So Damon and I watched Law & Order in between attempts to be the getting-Fenty-to-bed hero of the evening. Finally around 10, Fenton was just sitting nearby, dozing on the kid's foam couch. He was fighting it, but was so tired. Then all of a sudden he stood up, ran over to me, and I before I could even scoop him up he was asleep in my arms. It was the best Mommy moment in a long time.

If I told one of these books about what happened tonight, it would tell me that this sets a dangerous precedent, that I'm letting my child dictate things that I as a parent should dictate, and all that other wonderful guilt-instilling "advice." But no. I'm not worried. I know books can't talk. And I also know that whether Fenton's needs are changing, or there just needs to be some flexibility within structure, I know I am doing things right after all. And we are all happier for it.

Father's Day Fun

Happy Father’s Day all (except to all you females and childless males, you don’t count today). My first reaction is to post the great bit by Louis CK, but instead I’ll make fun of something someone wrote about Father’s Day (do I capitalize that?)!

I saw this article that Jeff Pearlman wrote for CNN posted by a friend on Facebook, and after I read it I thought “wow, what a self-congratulating douche, I must mock him!” So, with apologies to people who liked the article, I must make fun of it FJM Style (which is where I go line by line through it and make funny, snarky, or otherwise jackassy remarks after each line).

The woman started crying.

Look how I start this article, with unexplained drama! I sure hope I get to explain it because I am no longer a sports reporter, I am an artiste!

I didn't expect this

Most of the time the duct tape muffles the weeping.

because, well, why would I?

I thought of a beginning of a sentence but couldn’t end it because, well, I don’t have an ending to the sentence?

We were two adults, standing in a preschool auditorium, waiting for the year-end musical gala to begin, talking summer plans and Twitter and junk fiction and all things mindless parents talk at mindless events.

One topic of conversation? Bad sentence structure.

Then -- tears.

Did you forget how literaturely-like how I started the article? If you did, this should remind you.

"My husband," she said, "doesn't care."

If I am to understand, this is a casual acquaintance who then shares a deep-seated personal marital issue with you, right? I know you are trying to write an article and have a nice setup (in your mind) and all, but there is no way some half-stranger decides to start their therapy session with you. Either that or you were actually talking with your wife.

"Uh, about what?" I asked.

“About the fact that I am oversharing with strangers.”

The floodgates now open, she told me her husband works from home.

I want to note that he never actually mentions if the woman works or not. It actually is important for her complaints.

But he never drops their daughter off at preschool.

Perhaps because he is working?

He never picks their daughter up at preschool.

Again, perhaps because he is working? I like how she mentions he works from home, as if that makes it more easy somehow to do things like this. Working from home does not involve making your own hours and doing what you want to do. Hell, let’s say he works from home and she does not work (it is never mentioned) or has a more flexible schedule. In that case wouldn’t it not be a big deal? The thing is, we are hearing not just one side of the story, but a side that is filtered through a third party (and his editor) without much context.

He never wakes up with their daughter

Does he mean when she cries in the middle of the night, or does he mean when the child gets up in the morning? If it is the latter, does the father get up earlier than the daughter or later? Does the mother always have to wake up early if the daughter gets up, or is she awake anyway? These things aren’t just trifles, but are very important if you are going to roundly criticize anonymous man on a major website.

never puts her to bed, never takes her to a movie or a carnival or a ball game; never comes up with fun daddy-daughter activities.

He refuses to play tea party with her, he tells her that the tooth fairy isn’t real, when he borrows her underwear he leaves it stretched out with poop stains on it….Yes, yes, he is bad, we get it. I always take “never’ with a grain of salt, especially when it is said by an obviously emotionally distressed person who is spilling her guts to a half-stranger who then writes about it third-hand on a website for which he normally writes about sports.

"All he worries about is golf," the mother said. "Sometimes he'll take her to the driving range for an hour. But that's it. ..."

This is where I get to the point of “these people are probably not in the same socioeconomic class as me, let alone most Americans.”

Two days later, by mere coincidence, a different mother cornered me.

You see, I give off these crazy pheromones that drive the MILFs crazy!

I was sitting in a pizzeria with my son, Emmett, and daughter, Casey

Hey, look at me, I am such a good father! I know both my kids’ names!

gnawing on a calzone.

And I know how to use the thesaurus function on Word!

The woman, another preschool regular who always seems to be dragging around her kids with the worn look of a chain gang inmate,

Damn these fathers that don’t care! This woman, see, she cares. She cares so much that her obvious disdain for her children comes across so strongly to half-strangers that the only way to describe it is through an analogy with punishment via forced labor. You can just feel the love, you know, the love of a chain gang inmate.

glanced my way and muttered, "My husband would never do that."

Just buy some wine and a bottle of lube and that can change tonight.

"Do what?" I asked.

“Hey, look at me, I am such a good father that I will humblebrag in an article without shame!”

"Be out alone with both of the kids at once," she said. "Never."

Honestly? Some people are not good at handling multiple children by themselves, especially in a restaurant or store. But, let’s not let any of that spoil this, so I’ll say: how dare that unknown father not take his children of unknown age and unknown social abilities out to a restaurant which may or may not be child friendly! Besides, what was the woman doing there alone? Shouldn’t she be there with her kids showing how effortless it is to take kids out?

In case you are wondering, I am that dad.

The insufferable douchbag dad that likes to point out not only that he is a good dad who is involved, but that others aren’t nearly as good and involved as him and should strive to be like him?

The one who works out of the house.

What, you are not a writer for a major media outlet where your work allows you to work from your home?

The one who drives his kids to school,

My kids are too good for the bus!

packs lunches

I go through HELL every morning when I make a sandwich and put it in a lunchbox/bag along with an apple, yogurt, juicebox, and chips!

and pushes swings and arranges play dates

Yes, we see, you are involved in your child’s life! Unlike other fathers, do tell if you are involved in their teacher conferences?

and attends teacher conferences

I see! Also, speak in generalities that continue to portray you as better than every other person ever!

and -- generally speaking -- frequently finds himself alone in brightly colored rooms filled with women and tykes.

Wait, I thought you worked from home? You do know that working from home means, you know, working right? It seems that your work from home is basically being a stay at home father who still gets paid. Most people that work from home can’t be bothered to do lots of this stuff because they are, you know, working.

Along with my wife (who, until recently, also worked from home)

Wait, let’s stop for a second here. When your wife worked from home, did you still do all of this? Or are you doing all of this because your wife is working and you are the one whose flexible schedule allows it? Is all of your looking down your nose at everyone predicated on their ability to be able to not only work from home, but also having a more flexible schedule than their wife who also is working? It seems that your situation is relatively rare enough that you cannot extrapolate to other people’s situation based on it.

I wipe snot, clean poop,

I guess strawman fathers don’t like gross things.

order time outs and say no -- Really, no! I'm being serious, no! -- to the damned ice cream man and his Satanic siren call.

Strawman fathers do, however, act as disciplinarians without issue. (Nice mixed mythological metaphor there, btw)

I know all of my kids' friends, and most of their tendencies (Ashley and Emily love dolls, Lucas only wants to talk about Derek Jeter, Tyler digs applesauce).

I originally had a wholly inappropriate response to this that I am still laughing over, but it is, well, probably a bit over the line in more than one way.

Hence, I have been sent here today, on behalf of the stay-at-home mothers of the world, to convey to my fellow pops a message of love and hope in this lead-up to Father's Day: Wake the hell up.

Wait a second! Your wife is NOT a stay at home mom, and you send your kids to preschool (i.e. daycare) while you work at home. Your situation is NOT universal, so shut up about how awesome you are compared to other people who cannot even come close to having your situation. Your wife works and your job is more flexible, if you didn’t do all the things you bragged about above, they wouldn’t get done.

Really, wake the hell up. Now. I understand that most of you have 9-to-5 jobs, that you leave tired and come home tired and just wanna chill in front of SportsCenter with a bowl of chips.

Either that or a nice dinner. And your slippers. And the paper and a pipe, plus a martini.

But, seriously, you have no remote idea: Being a stay-at-home parent is exhausting.

But, seriously, you have no remote idea: Working 9-5 at a crappy job that may be physical labor is exhausting. Seriously, you are a sportswriter who works from home. You have no remote idea.

At the office, you can hide. You can take lunch. You can pretend you're working while scrolling the Internet for Yankees-Blue Jays and, ahem, Lindsay Lohan news.

You do realize that most people are not office workers with unrestricted internet access and no supervisors to make sure they stay on task, right?

You have genuine social interactions with folks over the age of, oh, 12.

I’ll give him that, though. Unless you are a teacher or daycare worker.

People ask questions about your day -- and listen to the answers.

You haven’t dealt with many people at work, have you? Most people don’t ever ask you about your day, and those that do don’t give a rats ass.

I envy you,

I envy your ability to be set up for an insult.

but I sort of pity you.

Because I am better than you.

Kids grow.

The cats in the cradle and the silver spoon, little boy blue and the man in the moon!

Age 1 turns to age 3, which turns to age 7, which turns to 15 and 18 and 21, all in the blink of an eye.

Wait, it seems that time slows down once they get older. We get jumps of 2 years, then 4 years, then 8 years, but then it stabilizes to 3 year jumps. I know, I’m missing the point: When you coming home dad I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then!

If you're there, as I am, it flies.

EVERYONE LOOK AT ME, I AM THERE FOR MY KIDS. My wife, however, is not. She does not work from home or see any of the snot from my kids. She is a bad wife.

If you're not there -- if you're almost never there -- it barely exists at all.

Time then becomes a vacuum, and that is some thing that your wife needs to use to pick up all the chip crumbs in front of the TV.

Which is why I just can't stomach those millions of dads who view their days at home as recovery from work

What, you do not have a cushy job like mine that requires no recovery time?

who'd rather rest than engage, who have no problem with passing the tykes off for more alone time with mom and who, literally, moan to their wives, "You have no idea how hard I work."

Strawman dad is a jerk! He, literally, has no redeeming features. How can we save him?

For you, I offer these 10 commandments of righteous fatherhood. Pay close attention, because, behind your back, people are pitying your wife:

Luckily there are exactly 10! It makes it easier to count on my fingers.

1. No golf on weekends: Seriously, it's ludicrous. Your spouse is home with the kids all the time, and you think it's OK to take five hours on a weekend day to pursue your own pastime? Selfishness, thy name is Father.

This golf epidemic is destroying our families! Seriously, I am guessing that this probably is applicable to, what, one half of one percent of all families in America? Way to tackle the tough issues!

2. Wake up: Literally, wake up. With your kids. On at least one of the two weekend days -- and perhaps both. I know: you wake up early for work. Not even remotely the same thing. Rising alongside the kiddies is hard. And crazy. And (gasp!) sorta fun, if you'd just stop moping.

Ok, sure, But I disagree with the fun part. Being with your kids may be fun, but getting up early is not fun. I appreciate the condescending jab there about any sort of complaint is just moping, just adds to your credibility.

3. Change diapers: If you have little kids, and you don't know how to change diapers (or, even worse, refuse to change diapers), you're pathetic. That's no exaggeration -- p-a-t-h-e-t-i-c. It's not all that hard, and though the poop sometimes winds up on the fingers, well, uh, yeah. It just does. Wash your hands.

Again, sure. But seriously, if you are a working father who has a stay at home wife, then she is very used to changing diapers and you are not. If you are not used to changing diapers, then it is NOT easy.

4. Play with dolls and paint your toenails: How many fathers do I know who refuse to get girlish with their girls? Dozens. Dude, put aside the machismo, break out Barbie and slather on some pink polish. You'll make a friend for life -- and nobody else is watching.

Does this count if you only have boys? If so, then how come fathers with only sons get only 9 commandments?

5. Do things you don't want to do: It's easy to take the kids to the driving range -- because you want to be there. Now try spending the day having a tea party at American Girl. Or crawling through one of those wormholes at the nearby kiddie gym. Fun? Often, no. But this isn't about you.

Isn’t everything you say here basically ‘do things you don’t want to do’? Also, enough with the golf examples! We get it, most of the people you know are rich.

6. Order the wife to bug off: I recently met a mother who told me her husband hadn't been alone with their 9-year-old daughter for more than two hours ... ever. Inexcusable. Let your wife do her own thing: relax, take a run, whatever. Entertain your children solo. They don't bite (Note: CNN.com is not liable if your children do, in fact, bite).

What the mother left out was that was because of court order.

7. Surprise! Just once, on a random day without meaning or purpose, show up early at your kid's school/camp/wherever, say "Get in the car!" and take him/her somewhere special. Just the two of you, alone. A movie. A park. A hike. The memory lasts -- I promise.

What, your work does not allow you the ability to schedule days off just to take your child to some father-child event?

8. Dishes Don't Clean Themselves (Nor Do Toys): It's amazing how this one works. You pick up a dish, run it under hot water with some soap, rub it down with a towel and place it back on the shelf. Then repeat.

This has absolutely nothing to do with being a father. Nice try, but this is obviously you pointing out how you also do housework. You are the perfect father AND husband!

9. Wake up your kid: Not often. But if you want to score big points and create a killer memory moment, walk in Junior's room at, oh, midnight, wake him/her up and go outside for 10 minutes to watch the stars.

This is one of those things that may sound awesome, but fuck if I am going to wake my kids up in the middle of the night, disrupt their sleep, have them take a good 20 minutes to get oriented, go outside for 10 freaking minutes, and then try to get them back to sleep for the next half hour just for some symbolic yet ultimately meaningless moment. Has he ever done this? Is this THAT important that it is one of the top 10 things you can do to be a good father?

10. For God's sake, tell your kids you love them: They never see you, and they'd probably like to know.

You see, he is speaking to a specific type of person who plays golf a lot and has a stay at home spouse and does not tell his kids that he loves them. Wait, this sounds a lot like someone from the stereotypical 50s and 60s….wait a second, could he be hashing out his issues with his own father here? Does he think this is how most people are? Does he not realize that half of all marriages end in divorce, so there is a huge swath of fathers out there who probably aren’t in their kids’ lives, but for reasons that have nothing to do with any of his inane reasons?

Bud, as you read this your wife is expecting little -- and your kids are expecting even less. Pull one out of the blue. Make Father's Day less about you, and all about them.

I think I’ll summarize the entire article for you: “I am a great dad who is not afraid of telling everyone that I am a great dad. You all should be like me. It doesn’t matter that I have a job that allows me to be like this, you should still be like me. Also, everyone look at me!”

Oh, that was lame. Let’s end this on Louis CK’s brilliant meditation on Father’s Day from last year. Also let me wish my brother Jason a happy Father’s Day (he’s my only blood relative that I get to wish that to!).

Hostas for Pasta

I love our daycare. We entrust our children to them, and in return they have been kind, helpful, and supportive. Every now and then though, they look to us for support. So recently, when they were in desperate need of some plants out front, they came up with a brilliant plan: Hostas for Pasta.

Just bring in a hosta and help plant it, and enjoy a free dinner. Oh yeah. We were so there! There were a few moments where we thought we might be the only ones there, but soon a nice group gathered and we got to work...



Do you think they'd go for Paper Clips for Fish and Chips?

It's in the jeans

A few months ago we were having fun with genetics. We talk about these things now and then, but it's a come-and-go part of our conversations. At least I thought so. It seems that Kestian, not surprisingly actually, has been thinking about it quite a bit lately. Earlier this week Kestian, emerged from the bathroom and announced to Damon that he can roll his tongue. Now, if you will recall, this was the best he could do in April:


The kids stayed home from camp for the allergy appt the other day, and that afternoon Kestian made the big announcement. Damon texted me, and of course I didn't believe him. But lo and behold:


Turns out, ever since we went through all the different tricks we can do, he's been quietly practicing. I didn't know you could teach yourself to do this, but I'd say he's gotten pretty good!

I, however, still can't roll my tongue. Maybe I need to practice.

So, let's update our little chart here. My parents sent in their "test results" so I've added them too:

Wait! My parents can do pokey lip?!? I'm going to have to ask for some photographic evidence! As to whether Fenton can roll his tongue or is left-handed...more on that later.

Pensive Reflections

It wasn’t always like this, I swear. While it is true that coats have been made from synthetic fibers in the past, the newest ones were always made from a wood derivative that was well liked and cheap, but that is the reason why this sudden change in the industry was such a shock.

Most people are not affected by this, and I do not blame anyone for their apathy, but for me this was something deeply and profoundly devastating. The capital I have invested in wood pulp technology may not yet be deemed a sunk cost, but it is only a matter of time. We did talk, of course, about focusing mainly on the production or even the supply chain, but I knew that the true future of the industry, if not the entire new field, was in the technology. My knowledge did not see the future, though if it did then the future must have tried to obscure its vision with some cloaking device or special ointment. I’ve seen the ointment before, and the applicator is uncomfortably large.

My boyhood memories are mostly ointment free, though this may have more to do with the government subsidy of cream-based salves over all others. Sure, some could pay the higher costs and get the ointments in a pique of extravagance, but this was mostly for special occasions and occasionally as substitutes for either frankincense or myrrh (never both) in realistic Christmas pageants. People trying to convince others of their obviously not wealth would give their children the first name of Ointment or, more rarely, Unguent. This whole episode lasted during most of the cold war, but even now the Russians look unwarily toward any lotion of American make.

I never thought this could be so fascinating

Kestian (and Adelaide) recently went in for allergy testing. If you will remember, Adelaide's results were quite boring, but Kestian's were quite the opposite. But just when you thought the shock and awe wore off, we've all come back for a little more. Ok, so it's not all shocking and awing, but there are indeed some interesting updates.

Now, before I go on, let me just say that Kestian is a picky eater. Anyone else have one of those in the family? I'm talking about a kid who refused to try tomatoes for years until I told him that there was ketchup inside them. Oh, yes I did! He finally tried it, and now he eats tomatoes. It has been like this with other foods. Like ravioli. For the longest time I couldn't get him to eat cheese ravioli. He likes cheese, he likes pasta, he likes tomato sauce. But would not try ravioli. Then I told him that they were "Superman Squares." This kid has no idea who Superman is, but it sounded cool, so he bought it anyway and ate them. Now he eats ravioli.

But there are things we cannot get him to eat, no matter how much we lie to him about it. Like soup. Or cereal with milk. He'll eat dry cereal, but no milk. This could have to do with a lactose intolerance, or that he doesn't like to mix things (like how soup is a mixture of things).

Other things he won't eat are more because of texture. He will often gag on peaches, he takes an hour to eat a serving of corn because he feels like he has to chew eat bite a hundred times, he spits out prunes that he thinks are too hard/soft/sticky. This is why we thought he didn't like peanut butter - because of the texture...well, that and you know, that it might kill him...

I sometimes thinks he's one of those supertasters. And I can really understand it. How many of you think carrots are bitter? I don't, but I know some people who do. How about asparagus? Every time I eat asparagus, it leaves this blech taste in my mouth, but Damon says that it's not blechy for him. Some of us just taste certain things differently. I suspect that Kestian has some of this going on. Now, not all picky eaters are supertasters, and not all supertasters are picky eaters, but I still wonder...

Anyhow, one of things we have always been able to tell that Kestian really doesn't like, rather than just not wanting to try it, is peas. So earlier this week, when Kestian went back for some more allergy testing, Damon asked the allergist to test him for that too. Guess what? He's also allergic to peas.

Peas! I've never really heard of people being allergic to peas before, but peas are a legume, and so are peanuts (don't let the name fool you, peanuts are not nuts!), so maybe it makes more sense than I thought. (The kids told me that their camp counselor is allergic to cantaloup. Now that's weird!) And since Kestian is learning about compound words right now, being allergic to peas, nuts, and peanuts just makes sense [goddamit you stole my joke! -Damon] {It was an awesome joke -Laura}

Now, he was also tested for penicillin, since we suspected he was allergic to it from a bad reaction years ago. Well, not bad, but there was a rash, and the doc marked his chart "allergic" because of it. Well, he passed the skin prick, the skin test, and the oral challenge. That opens up a whole class of drugs now if he does get sick, so I am relieved. We still aren't sure if he is/isn't allergic to cephalosporin drugs (since he also had a reaction with that - but it was a similar reaction to what he had with penicillin...), but we may wait to test for that.

On an interesting side note, I've been trying to get into the habit of checking ingredients now for nuts/peanuts. Special K cereal bars = OK. Meijer brand knock off of Special K cereal bars = NOT OK! Why did they have to go an add peanuts? Tricksy Meijer...

Are you my mother?

Even though I am a parent of twins, and we know other parents of twins, I don't know a lot of twins. There were some twins in my class when I went to high school, and I remember some twins in some of my accounting courses at UM - I remember them because they would always dress alike, and I always thought to myself "Really? You're 20 years old and you still dress alike? Time to get yourself an identity!" Ok, yeah that's a little cruel, but I never understood the whole dressing twins alike thing - and certainly not in adults. Even though I have boy/girl twins, so the opportunity to dress them alike goes down dramatically, I still never would have dressed them alike all the time. Sure, it's fun now and then, but I want my kids to be their own person - not always matched up with someone else.

But I am not really writing about dress-alike twins. I've just been thinking a lot lately about Kestian and Adelaide and how I am so glad that they are twins. Having twins brings along extra guilt for the parent: Will I spend enough time with each of them? Will I treat them fairly? Will I be able to handle it all? These are all things parents deal with whenever they have any kids, but it is immediately intensified with twins. There is no 9 month (minimum) learning curve to adjust to the world with one newborn before adding a second. Two kids, day one.

But I'm also not talking about oh how hard it is with twins. Yeah, it's hard. But it is what it is. Really though, despite all the added difficulties that comes with twins, there are also some added reliefs. My kids always have someone to play with. Someone who is on the same social, mental, learning levels. Someone their age, who really gets them. And this is really what I am grateful for. For all the added stresses of twins, there is the forever-connection between them that actually helps me as a parent.

I often find myself relying on this. Appreciating this. Needing this.

Honestly, I don't know how people do it who have only one kid. Or even multiple, different-aged kids. How do they get a break while the kids want to play? How do they deal with the guilt of sending them off to daycare/school/camp on their first day all by themselves? How do they manage the extra demands that a similar-aged sibling often alleviates?

Being twins, my kids have a built in buddy-system that leaves me a little bit more reassured. Sure, they fight, they compete, they annoy each other - maybe even more than other siblings because they are twins. But that is nothing compared to what they rely on each other for. For example, the kids just started camp on Monday. It was a new place. New people. No one knew anyone. I saw other kids being dropped off, parents saying goodbye, and the kids left standing, confused and nervous. Sure, our kids were nervous and confused too, but in these situations they fall on each other. And as a parent, I felt just a smidgen less guilty for leaving them there. At least they have each other. This is something I frequently find myself saying, mostly to reassure myself and lessen my guilt.

But I don't say this just to free my mind. They really do have this connection, this reliance that is not something I force on them so I can not cry while I am at work. It's real. It's there. And it's theirs.

And this is what makes twins so awesomely special. This is just something that I don't think any others can replicate. Many people have brothers or sisters that are so very close to them. I think that is awesome. But I would argue it's not the same as what Kestian and Adelaide have. And it just can never be.

Damon was talking to me recently about how everyone's "family" is different. Even among siblings. My "family" is much different than my brother's "family. In my family, I have an older brother; in my brother's family he has a younger sister. This alone creates different experiences, different views, different memories. And this is something we sometimes forget or don't allow for. Often we talk about past events and argue over seemingly odd recollections because they seem to differ so much. This is why.

Even with my twins, they still have different families. Adelaide has an older brother and a younger brother. Kestian has a younger sister and a younger brother. Still, they (as twins) are the closest anyone can ever be to having the same family. And this is why they will always have this connection. And I know that this is a lifelong arrangement. I often envision them in college, calling each other every night before bed just to reconnect, even though they probably go to the same college and spend half their day together anyway.

I am so glad that they have this- almost wishing I had it myself. But really I do not long for it. At least not for me. I do, however, long for it for Fenton. I often wish he had a twin so that he could have all these special connections with someone. Kestian and Adelaide adore Fenton, and he adores them. There is no question. But still he does not have someone to share this specialness with. And because Kestian and Adelaide do have this, I feel bad that I cannot provide the same thing to Fenton. If Kestian and Adelaide weren't twins, I wouldn't feel so bad, but there is nothing I can do abut it. And that makes me sad. Sad when I think about his first day of school - by himself. His first day of camp - by himself. When I think about Fenton, I see him needing different things because he is not a twin. As a result, I find that I am a parent to twins, and a different kind of parent to a singelton. All wrapped up in one. One day you guys will read all of this, and I hope you all look back and think I did a good job. I know you each won't have had the same mother, but wonder if the mother you had will be what you needed.

Are you ready for the summer

Watching my kids be kids is quite fun. Although just the other night Damon was saying how he missed his 4-year-olds (and I do too, to some extent), watching the kids go through childhood is a strange combination of reminiscing, observation, and supervision. When I'm not breaking up an argument between them, or telling them for the 83rd time to not interrupt, they can be quite interesting while teaching me a few things at the same time.

Take for example a recent exchange between them (in a light, airy, sing-song tone):
Adelaide: Whatcha eatin'?
Kestian: A piece o' chocolate
Adelaide: Where'd ya get it?
Kestian: A donkey dropped it

Now...they don't seem to be aware of the feces-ingesting insinuation, but just think it's fun to say. I actually think it's fun to say too, and find myself often saying, "Hey Adelaide...whatcha eatin'?" followed by a rousing exchange of comedic donkey poop humor. [I was informed later that the appropriate reply was really "A doggie dropped it" which I guess is still funny...]

Why am I always the butt of some joke?

This is not something I ever remember from my childhood. But this seems to be one of those playground-spread sillies. But, at the same time, they often come home with things I did learn from friends as a kid. Whether it be knock-knock jokes or that weird and endless hand-slapping pattern that girls do until their interest is quickly replaced with boys, they often come to me with something "new" that I remember doing ages ago.

However, the whole Cheese Touch thing I just don't get. I had to look it up on Wikipedia and apparently it's a Diary of a Wimpy Kid thing. It's not a book my kids have read, but they still know all about it - or think they do. They tried to explain to me the "rules" about whether one's fingers are crossed at the time or whatever. I'm not really sure I understand. I'm not sure I care too.

(Interestingly, the author of Diary of a Wimpy Kid - Jeff Kinney - went to the University of MD while Damon and I went there, and wrote a strip in the school paper called Igdoof. Damon still has his book and makes Igdoof references on a fairly frequent basis. Hey Jeff - if you are reading this through some Google Alert, give us a shout in our Comments and PLEASE send my husband an autographed Igdoof!!! Your publicist totally ignored me. Surely you don't want to ignore your earliest fans!)

Ah yes, back in the day when Social Security Numbers were used as Student IDs...

Anyway, speaking of fun childhood things, the kids are now in summer camp. I found probably the cheapest deal I could ($50/2 weeks/kid X 8 weeks = $400 for the kids to be taken care of all summer!) through the Lexington Parks and Rec. It's Camp Kenwick. Damon and I were concerned that it would be more like Camp Crapwick - one of those you-get-what-you-pay-for deals. The first day we dropped them off we met with the Director and toured the facility. I felt better when we left, but Damon didn't. However, they seem to actually have a fairly organized and decent program. The kids are sorted into groups by age and have a counselor that takes them through various activities, such as arts, computer, playground, games, and whatever else. After their first day, the kids said they had a ton of fun. Damon kept prodding, however, saying "You can tell us if there was anything you didn't like" to which Kestian replied incredulously "Why would you think we wouldn't like it?!"

I just want to know if there will be a hot-dog eating contest

Now, with camp also comes pool days. Going to the pool is one of those childhood rites-of-passage. I remember swimming from probably their age, and have always loved it. We've taken the kids to swim lessons a few times, and they enjoy the pool, but let's all be honest here: they can't swim. Now I don't consider myself an over-protective parent, but still I'm not comfortable with some things. The kids have to hold my hands when we cross the street, they aren't allowed to play outside by themselves, and only recently have we let them use real butter knives.

If only the bubble wrap wasn't full of bubbles that they would pop

You have to remember that they are 6. Not 12. I'm sure when they are 12 we'll let them do a few more things. Like laundry. And dishes. And clean the toilets. Oh man, I can't WAIT! Wouldn't that be AWESOME!!!! I mean, to not have to clean all the time? So much of my life would be freed up! Ok, ok... Deep breath. Calm down, Laura...

Back to the pool thing. So yeah, the kids get to go to the pool twice a week with camp. Knowing that my kids can't swim, and knowing that my kids probably think they can swim, I went out and bought them each a life jacket. I had visions of them being let loose in a crazy huge pool with a thousand other kids and 2 teeny-bopper life guards more concerned with their tans than my children's survival. I instructed them over and over that they HAVE to wear their life jackets at all times - no exceptions. We went over rules for sunblock and sticking together, and again about the jackets. I was going to at least pretend that my kids would follow my rules and not just get caught up in all the fun and action at the pool that drives kids to do dangerous things. Like run. And jump in head first. And drown.

Yeah... I said it. Drown. Aside from fires, and car crashes, and cancer, drowning is right up there on my list of biggest fears. And if I wasn't going to be there to make sure they wouldn't down, I was going to send them with something that would at least theoretically take care of it for me. A proxy, if you will. So off I sent them, listening to them promising to wear their jackets, and hoping and praying that it was all ok.

When I picked them at the end of the day, the counselors came up to us and asked us if the kids had to wear the jackets. Come to find out that the pool they were in was probably 2-3 feet at its deepest. Shallow enough that they can touch the bottom. The counselors said they were right there in the pool with them, and the kids got pink bands on them which meant that they were not allowed in the big (deep) pool. After a few more questions, we decided that the jackets did not seem needed. And apparently, our kids were the only kids there who even brought jackets. When I first heard that, I felt a little foolish for sending them, but then I thought "Did all these other parents just think it was all fine? Did no one else think they might need to send additional safety precautions? Did everyone else just trust the counselors and life guards?" Well, whatever. We'll save the jackets for boating and the beach - so no waste there.

Who wouldn't trust their children's safety with a lifeguard?

So summer is full on! The kids are enjoying camp. I'm enjoying my new job (except for the ants on my desk). All we need now is to sell the house, find another house, pack, move, unpack, and we're good to go! Easy-peasy!*

*Yet another thing I never said as a kid, but my kids say ALL the time.

Quarters, nickels, and dimes

Today is a big day. A day of endings, new beginnings, and, of course, Friday. First of all, today is the last day the kids have kindergarten. Can you believe that? I know I can't. Where has the time gone? I remember it so vividly: filling out the paperwork to register the kids, graduating from daycare, buying all those school supplies, that first day of school. Now the year is done. And in this year, I've seen the kids learn to read, develop in math, and become just overall smart little kids. They are so ready for next year to start first grade. But where will they be when first grade starts?

Here in the K. Y., school starts in the middle of summer. Next "fall" it starts August 11th. Yeah, August 11th! It's foreign to me, too, to start school in August, just like it's freakin' weird that school is out at the beginning of June. However, back in the P. A., school starts at the more normal time of year: the day after labor day. Now that's what I'm talking about! No school till after Labor Day. That's just how it's supposed to be.

It is free day care, though...

Of course, our plan is to move this summer before school starts, but given the differing school calendars, they could very well start first grade here, and then we'd move, and they'd start first grade again there. That wouldn't be the worst thing actually.

Today is also a big day for me. Today is my last day at UK. Often the kids will ask me "What do you do, Mommy?" and I try to explain that I work with teachers to make their classes better. "Oh, so you teach teachers!" Well, not exactly...but kinda. How does one explain the job of an Instructional Designer to a 6 year old?

What's so hard to understand?

But yes, today I leave UK, and Monday I start a new job. A job at the Frontier School of Midwifery and Family Nursing, who graciously have decided to change their name to Frontier Nursing University next month, probably so I don't have to take 17 minutes just to say the name of where I work. I'll be their Instructional Designer, and I'm very excited about the new position.

It's a bit funny how I even got the position... Our office had an opening for an Instructional Designer earlier this year, and we ended up hiring a person from Frontier. Soon after she started, she told me that they still hadn't hired her replacement and would I be interested? It's not that she was trying to get rid of me, but I had told her that I would be leaving UK sometime soon so our family could move back East - all I needed, though, was a job. Turns out, Frontier, being the distance education school that it is, was open to hiring an ID who would telecommute. Ding! Ding! Ding! So after several interviews, a presentation, and a trip to Hyden, the job was mine.

Ahhh! The old switcheroo...

I'll work in their Lexington office while we still live here, but when the house sells and we move, I'll work from home, coming back to Lexington/Hyden a few times a year. The rest of my job I can do anywhere. Hmm...anywhere, huh?

Wonder if I can get wi-fi here?

I can't tell you how awesome this is! I mean, I get to do a job I enjoy, we'll be able to sell our house on our our schedule, and I'll be working from home which means I don't have to put K and A in after-school care and I can be home when they get home from school. Not to mention I will be working for an organization that trains and educates future midwives and nurses. Having been through the child bearing process twice now, I can't think of a better group of people to work with. It's the best of like eight worlds!

Just eight?

So come Monday, I'll start my new job, the kids will start a new summer camp, and we'll be just that much closer to getting back East.

Hooray for summer!