Eye on the Ball

"Keep your eye on the ball" I said.
"I was!" he said.














I apologize for my lack of posting. This blog came out of an excess of time and mental energy. Lately I've had a lack of both time and mental energy. End of the year. New cars. Lots of stuff. Things are bound to slow down eventually and when they do, I'll have things to write about.

Citrus

For Mother's Day my wife asked me for one simple thing. She just wanted a couple of citrus trees. Orange, lemon, whatever, just plant some trees next to the apple trees. She mentioned it all through the spring, and I always waved her off. I think she thought I forgot, but I didn't. The plan was to get them as an actual Mother's Day gift, and not just sometime in the month before hand and call them a gift and then have nothing for her on actual Mother's day. I'm a romantic like that. So after the 5K last weekend we loaded up the truck and bought one orange tree and one lemon tree. They're planted safely in the yard and seem to be doing well. The orange tree even has tiny oranges growing on it. I'm not sure they'll turn into edible fruit, but we're hopeful. Both of us keep saying that the very first thing we should have done when we moved into this house was to plant fruit trees. If we did that we'd have an orchard to pick fruit from instead of tiny trees to just watch grow. Take my  advice, plant some fruit trees this spring. It's never too early and in 20 year's you'll be happy you did it.

Race Day

A lot of stuff happened last week and into the weekend. Some of it I'll try and cover this week, some of it I'll leave.
Saturday morning saw the whole group of us up early to go race. Not a car race this time, but a running race, two of them actually. My middle two kids participated in the kids mile. My son was hoping to top his third place finish of last year, but the field was stacked and it wasn't meant to be. He raced well, and finished well, and set a good time. For my younger daughter, it was her first real race. A mile. Quite a long way. She did great. A little walking but she pushed on through her difficulty and finished solidly mid pack. She was tired, but she was happy to have done so well.
My older daughter stepped up the the 5K this year, and my wife tagged along with her to help keep pace and make sure that she didn't get lost. They both ran well and finished several minutes quicker than they were expecting. My daughter now has a personal record. A number that is out there for her to beat. It's a good thing. My wife commented that it was the most enjoyable 5k that she's ever run, which means a lot coming from someone who has run as fast as she has.
On the way home we stopped and bought doughnuts. It's not something we do very often, but it somehow seemed like the right thing to do after the race. The kids are all planning their next events. My son says he's ready for the 5k. I think he wants to beat his sister. My daughter wants to actually train because she was running 5k last spring without stopping for practice. She knows that with a little more practice she can eliminate those walking breaks and take a couple of minutes off her time. Competition runs strong in my kids and it makes my wife proud. Doing good is one thing. Wanting to do better, and working for it, is something else completely.

Healthy Baby.......Raccoons

We have a compost bin out back. Well, not so much a bin as an old bathtub with a piece of plywood over it. We're classy. Anyway, something has been getting into it for a while. It's not a huge deal really. We put old food out there and something eats it. I don't really care if it's a raccoon or a possum or maggots or bacteria. As long as you don't cause trouble outside of the compost bin, we can all live in peace.
Two weeks ago I had to go out to my truck right at dusk to get something out of it and a quick glance over to the bin revealed a large raccoon holding a piece of watermelon rind. Last week somebody tipped over the garbage can and nibbled on some cupcake wrappers. Things were clearly getting out of hand and I had resolutely decided to trap and relocate our increasingly annoying friend.
Today I got home from the store and the dog was going a bit bonkers in the garage. I went to check it out thinking that she had the raccoon cornered and there was a fight brewing. She was just looking up at the high shelves in the rafters. I put the groceries away and went back to the garage to get her so she could come inside and calm down. That's when I heard it. Noises. Little squeaking chortles. Baby raccoons. At least two of them. Huge problem.
Any of you who have been reading along know what happened last year with the baby heron that fell out of it's nest. If you've been reading back farther you have heard about the raccoons and the crow and all of the other stuff that I helped raise as a kid. If I trapped the mother raccoon and was somehow left with the babies, I'd have to raise them. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't.
Clearly I cannot trap the mother raccoon now. She has to stay alive and healthy and hanging around for long enough to get the babies big enough so that I can trap them all. I need her to be a successful parent. If she fails as a parent it will be bad for my marriage. I can't let that happen.
On the shelf below the one that holds a stack of squeaking chortling tires, I have put a bowl of food. I'll fill that bowl pretty much every day for the next month. I will do everything I can to keep that mother raccoon healthy and around to care for her babies. If all goes well, I'll trap them all in a month or so and send them to live someplace more appropriate than my garage. Until then, healthy mom, healthy baby.....racoons.

Soccer Sock Trick

It's soccer season again and I thought I'd pass along a trick that we've learned over the years. Soccer socks are really really long so that you can put them on, put your shin guards on, and flop the socks over the shin guards. They're pretty cool. The hitch is that they don't really make them in small sizes. If you're four or five and have tiny feet, it's very hard to put on the socks and then cram your feet into your shoes without having some sort of wrinkle or bump or other sock irregularity that causes discomfort and whining. We've discovered that you can simply cut the foot portion of the sock off and use regular socks in your shoes while still using the top portion of the sock to cover your shin guard. Happy feet makes for happy small soccer players. As an added bonus, they make excellent arm and leg warmers and work well for all sorts of dress up.

One on One

My daughter and I had fun at the motorcycle races last weekend. The track was great and the racing was great. I missed my wife and the other three kids, but by taking only my daughter, the whole event was much more relaxing. I didn't have to yell at anyone to stop hitting, yelling, wrestling, or not being nice. I didn't have to try and watch four people at once to make sure that they weren't wandering off. I could just sit and watch the races and keep my daughter in the corner of my vision and it was good. When it was time to eat, I asked her what she wanted, she decided, and that's what we had. Nobody complained that they wanted something else. Bed time happened when she got so tired that she was falling asleep watching the TV in the hotel room. It was nice.
Probably the most fun we had all weekend centered around the fact that our hotel room was a "suite". I put that in quotes because, though technically a suite with a microwave and a fridge, the hotel was a bit of a dive and in my mind suite is usually associated with something nice. It wasn't very nice. It did have that microwave though and we put it to use.
The races for the weekend are on Sunday, and Saturday is reserved for practice sessions and qualifying. We went to the track both days, but left a bit early on Saturday to avoid some of the hot day and to not get too tired out before Sunday. This found us cruising back to town at 2:30. Too early for dinner and not wanting to go out again, we decided to hit up the grocery store for some microwave food. I bought two microwave burritos and my daughter picked out some Hot Pockets. We chose popcorn for desert. I taught her how to rip the Hot Pocket box in half and use it as a plate (college style) so there were no dishes and no clean up. We found a few TV shows and eventually Raiders of the Lost Ark and we ate popcorn and talked and had a great time. It was a really nice weekend.

COTA

I'm not much for watching sports. When my wife turns on college football I usually remember that I have something to do in the garage or some pressing yard work. It's just not something that I usually enjoy. With one huge exception, I'd rather go do something than watch other people do something. That one exception is MotoGP.
For those of you who live under a rock, or in North America, MotoGP is the top level of motorcycle road racing. It's like Formula 1, but with 240 horse power motorcycles piloted by men with otherworldly abilities. It is, bar none, the best racing in the world. If it weren't for the fact that I really hate breaking bones I certainly would have followed these gentlemen onto a track at a much lower level. Maybe that's why I love it. Motorcycle racing is the one thing in my life that has eluded me, and it continues to hold my fascination. 
A decade ago the only way you could watch MotoGP live was to visit Europe or Malaysia. Then China built a track. In 2008 a deal was struck and the circus that is MotoGP came to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. It took every bit of willpower and not a few dirty looks from my wife to not go watch the races up at Indy. Last year though something changed. A couple of rich guys who wanted to become richer convinced the state of Texas that we needed a new road course. Not just another track, this was to be a world class venue that would hold Formula 1 races. A little chatting back and forth and it was decided that the track should be built to accommodate MotoGP as well. Circuit Of The Americas, or COTA, was built.
On Sunday will be the first running of MotoGP at COTA. My wife bought me tickets. Two tickets. I would have loved to take her, but someone has to watch the kids. I decided to take my oldest daughter instead. Hanging out with her is pretty easy. She has quick humor, good taste in music, and isn't too flaky. It's a little like bringing along a small adult that can't drive and is easily confused reading maps. We're going to have a good time. Maybe next year I'll go again and bring another one of the kids. Maybe I'll bring the whole family, I don't know, I need to see what it's like. 
I'm glad my life still enables me to have adventures and that my wife supports them. I'm also glad that I get to share them with my kids. Anything fun is always more fun when you get to poke someone with your elbow and point and yell "did you see that!"

Painting

Just an old picture of painting on a rainy day. Only two kids. No school yet. Nothing to do and looking for ways to kill time. Those were the days...... of course there were diapers too. Don't necessarily miss the diapers.

Stung

Yesterday was a nice day and I had a bit of time to kill while my youngest was in preschool, so I went for a run. As usual I ran barefoot and, as usual, I had a very pleasant time. After the run I did a cool down walk and some stretching, and then cut across the lawn of the preschool to get back to my car. That's when I stepped on a bee. It was unpleasant. I've been stung quite a lot in my life and I hate it every time. It's something that you never quite get used to. 
Later on I was telling my wife about it and she held little sympathy. I run barefoot, what do I expect? It was just a matter of time! I pointed out to her that in all my many years barefoot upon this planet, this is the first time I've ever been stung in the foot. I argued that stepping on a bee was a pretty low occurrence thing. To back up my claim I put forward the fact that I've been stung in the lips three times in my life, and only once in the foot. Perhaps we should worry less about wearing shoes and more about wearing full face helmets?
Sometimes I think we spend a lot of parental energy worrying about the wrong things. We talk about how to stay safe around strangers, but it's far more likely that a child will be harmed by a person they know than a stranger. We worry about school shootings when most children who are shot are shot accidentally in their own homes. We tell them that drinking, using drugs, and having premarital sex are bad, but we don't admit that it's the consequences that are bad, while the actions themselves can be quite a good time.
I'm not sure what my final conclusion about all of this is. My foot is incredibly itchy and that makes it hard to concentrate and type. I think we spend a lot more energy on things what we're worried about than the things that our kids should be worried about. We feel like we know the people we know, and that we have control over the guns around us, but what other people might do and what guns they might pick up are scary. We worry about what would happen in our lives if we let vices in, especially when we see them destroy the lives of those around us. Maybe the next time I'm warning my kids about walking barefoot though the grass I'll start to worry more about their lips than their feet, and I'll realize that even the simplest parts of parenting aren't as simple as they seem.

Acceptance

On my way to drop the kids at school the other day I passed a group of kids waiting for the bus, rather, I passed two groups of kids waiting for the same bus. They had clearly segregated themselves into the "us" and the "them" and each group stood on their own side of the road. It got me to thinking.
When my kids started preschool at age three there were no groups. Everyone was a kid and everyone played with each other. Sure, the rowdy kids played with each other more and the quiet kids played with each other more, but for the most part, this was the class and just being in the class was enough to be friends. Nobody was looking to find their place in the world because there was nothing to find. I'm a preschooler, you're a preschooler, we're all preschoolers! Let's play!
Sometime between then and junior high, the whole idea that we all fit in everywhere falls apart and they start to tear the larger group into smaller groups. They split by sex and by personality and by ability and in my kid's school, language. They fragment into small groups and they stand together with their faces turned inward to their group and their backs to those that don't belong. I saw it at the bus stop and I see it when I'm at any school function. Already I'm seeing a lot more back and a lot less face myself when my older kids are around their friends.
I know that this is all normal. They're deep in the process of becoming themselves. From now on it's the interaction with their peers, and the acceptance of those peers that will largely determine who my kids become. If they're a boat at sea, I know I'm not the rudder that steers them, or the wind that pushes them along, I'm merely the ship builder that hopes he's built a straight keel for them to move forward on. I want to help my kids, I truly do, but with each passing day I can see that who they become and what successes they have in life increasingly depend on them. I can't make their friends for them. I can't do their work. No only can I not fight their battles, but most of the time I can't even see them if they don't want me to.
Before we had kids a lot of people told us that the hardest parenting was when they were little. They needed you to feed them and change them and take care of pretty much every aspect of their existence. Their neediness was exhausting, physically and emotionally draining, and it was hard. They get bigger and they get more independent and things do get easier. That much is true. I'm starting to think that maybe there are two hard times though. The first part when they need you for everything, and the second, which is starting to happen now, when they might not need you for anything at all. Acceptance of that will be hard.

Teamwork

With as much bickering and fighting as there is around the house on a typical day, it sometimes surprises me to look back at pictures and see the kids going about jobs with excellent teamwork. I like to look at the pictures and remember an idyllic time when they were getting along and solving problems with conversation and compromise instead of screams and insults. Then I remember that the reason that I took the pictures in the first place was because it was so cute and unexpected for them to be cooperating like that. This wasn't normal behavior, it was odd enough and special enough that I needed to take a picture of it so that I could remember a single moment of cooperation. Someday I'll forget the fighting and these pictures are what I'll have left. I'll like that.

Diabolical

The Easter bunny is a diabolical fiend. Don't get me wrong, the guy's awesome, but he is not a kind and gentle bunny when it comes to hiding eggs. It is fun though.

Mugs

We have a box in our garage that is completely stationary for 364 days a year. It sits and collects dust and is never moved or opened. The day before Easter each year, I pull it down from the shelf, reach inside, and grab as many coffee mugs as my hands can carry. I call them coffee mugs because that's what they originally were made to be. If you judge an object by it's use, then they aren't coffee mugs any more, they're dye mugs. 364 days of hibernation for one vinegar fueled bright and cheery dye session. If mugs could be happy, these would be happy.
Click through the jump to see the rest of the pictures.

Two Wheelin'

The last of the kids had his maiden two wheeled voyage this morning. He was very excited and wanted to make sure that I shared it with everyone. He was a bit wobbly and his turns leave something to be desired, but he's well on his way to multi mile biking adventures. The longest journey starts with a wobbly trip down the driveway as they say.

Brother?

When we went to the rodeo we stopped at the petting zoo. My son found a long lost brother. At least that's what we think happened.They bonded.

Fragile

My wife went up into the attic to get out the Easter stuff. In retrospect, she may have employed gravity a bit too aggressively. Although, she did accomplish the task she set out to accomplish. Full points for that.

The Eraser King

I picked my son up from school the other day and asked him how things were going. "Good", he said. I asked him to expand on that general thought. He went into a long explanation about how he was selling things in class for tokens and told me about the things he had been selling. Selling? It seems that his teacher has let a secondary market for school supplies develop in her class. Kids in her class earn tokens by being good or getting work in on time. They can use those tokens to buy pencils or erasers or some small toys or a day without shoes. Really, a day without shoes is a thing you can buy. Anyway, my son decided that since he had some extra pencils and some small toys that he had bought earlier that he could make a tidy profit by selling them. He asked his teacher if this was ok, he even wrote up a contract outlining his honest business practices, and she approved. Due to some supply issues in the teachers supply box he was doing pretty well. Well enough, in fact, that other kids took notice and decided to copy him. One girl in particular noticed that since the teacher was out of erasers, my son was able to sell them for 10 tokens each. She had a handful of erasers herself, and decided to undercut him at two tokens. Now, if it was me, I would have taken this as a sign that my price was too high and lowered it to be competitive. Not him. He walked over to her desk with a handful of tokens and bought every last eraser she had. He then walked back to his desk and declared that the price for erasers in the class was back up to 10 tokens. My elementary age son managed to corner the secondary market on erasers and pull in a tidy profit. I'm not entirely sure this is the kind of thing you can teach. I'm both extremely proud and slightly fearful. He is truly the Eraser King.

We Won!

Well, we took the kids to Rodeo Houston again. They're all big now so we did the petting zoo and the farm stuff and then we went to the midway. I know that everyone in the family (except me) likes to play games. They spend money like it's free and have fun. I do not have fun. One of the first games we walked past was the ring toss where you're trying to get little plastic rings to land on one of about 500 glass Coke bottles. It's basically impossible. You can stand there for an hour and watch people throw thousands of rings and never make one. The kids wanted to play so I said "fine, let's get it over with". My wife said "no, if we win then we have to carry the giant prize all day". We'll never win. Nobody wins. Fine we'll wait. I'm already grumpy.
On the way out, we stop to burn through the last of our dwindling life savings. Baskets of rings are purchased. Rings are tossed. I'm rolling my eyes at the silliness of it all. Of course you know where this ends up. Of the several million rings tossed that day that sailed helplessly to the ground, somehow my younger daughter managed to throw one perfectly. She's happy. My wife is happy. The carnies are happy. Everyone is happy. Even I'm a little happy. But only a little.

Spring Biking

So it's spring break. Rather, spring break is almost done. You'd think that as a stay at home dad I'd have more time to post by not having to drive the kids back and forth to school. While theoretically right, it's not really right in practice. I find that I'm simultaneously trying to get projects done while at the same time my presence is needed every 3 to 5 minutes to solve some dispute between the children. Couple that with the lack of structure that my days now have, and it seems like every evening I find myself getting ready for bed and realizing that I haven't posted. Come next week and a return to normalcy and my posting schedule should get better. 

One thing we have been doing this week is enjoying the weather. I've been working on the cars and the yard and the kids have been playing outside and riding bikes. My youngest finally convinced himself that he could handle riding with training wheels. He went from unsteady to tearing around the driveway like his butt was on fire in about 20 minutes. It won't be long and I'll have the last of them riding a two wheeler. Bikes are fun.

Adventure!

I've been a little delinquent in my posting, but I have a good reason. Adventure! My oldest son and I flew to Pennsylvania to pick up a car. It was a three day trip that included 4 hours in flight delays, 1400 miles of driving, having to diagnose and fix the car in a parking lot, and some really incredible roads. I didn't have to take my son. I could have done it myself and saved money on a plane ticket. I wanted to though. I like spending time with my kids, whether all together or one on one. Anything fun becomes more fun when you're sharing the world with someone you love.