Happy Birthday

Dear J-

I have my doubts about my utility at home watching Calcifer today — he took naps for 90% of the time theVet was at work and thus my main contribution was stuffing the unholy concoction of rice cereal, formula, and strained prunes down his maw. That’s actually not too hard if you’re not too concerned with keeping the kid clean: I let him follow up a bite with a finger chaser, and as he sucked on the fingers the food would go down easier. Downside, of course, was having to clean up hands, face, bib, neck, collar, feet (hey, they get around when he’s eating), and my glasses afterwards. No doubt if he had a choice in the matter something tastier would be on the menu but it’s the regular dose of humility I need — today my most important contribution was getting those few ounces of mush from bowl to mouth (and lip to mouth, bib to mouth, chair to mouth …) and that helps put things in perspective.

It is figgy’s birthday today and one of my favorite pastimes has been checking out where he is and mentally ticking it off against where she was and using her as a measuring stick for where he will be. I could not have imagined the past four years with kid — now kids — at the time, only a vague sense of wonder that life was going to change now and how after nine months of watching the growing inside we now got to watch her growing outside. And none of the past four years could have been predicted at all. The strange things she does, the rituals and games with rules that make sense to her four-year-old mind all couldn’t have come from thin air. I hear so many echoes lately that I can’t be sure if it’s in my head or not: did I say that out loud or was it my little doppleganger?

We have had a fun ride over the past four years and I’m looking forward to the next four, the next fourteen, the next forty. I suppose that in 2007 my mind flashed to 2025 — the year she turns eighteen and is theoretically an adult — but only briefly, as the long day that followed and the first week of sleep deprivation stretched time into taffy and before I knew it she was two and we were buying sandwiches and cupcakes for family at the Zoo, little shirtdress and hugs for everyone. Its two years on from that already and time keeps galloping forward. Calcifer is nearly six months already and I can feel time dilating again in a curious trot, how did we get this far already, how fun has this ride been, and where are we going next? I can’t wait to find out.

Mike

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Cheese Challenge

Dear J-

After breakfast this morning we brought the kids inside, Calcifer peacefully lulled to slumber through the magic of the two-ton rolling pacifier and figgy slightly hopped up on carbohydrates and syrup (Swedish pancakes and French toast: very Continental of her). So of course she pounces on him and shakes him awake despite us trying to pry them apart and she got a timeout early on today as a result. We’re learning that the threat of deprivation is effective only when cooupled with the ability to follow through: we can say that we’re going to cancel her birthday party to ensure compliance, for instance, but it’s not something we can really do.

After we got to our afternoon destination — we’d left ridiculously early which was then eaten up by inexplicable traffic through Camp Pendleton — we joined the chaos in progress at Chuck E Cheese. The setup reminded me of another party we had attended a few months ago — and she had tremendous fun there as she did today as well — but it was a place where the kids got to play not with each other but hitting up machines for tickets like the youngest Lotto players on earth. It’s still fun but I dunno, there’s a kind of convenience that doesn’t seem worth it. The kids kept coalescing and dispersing like ink in water; together to eat and sing a happy birthday then back out amongst the machines to harvest tickets.

We’ve been to more than a few birthday parties now and without fail it’s the ones where the parents spend more effort that hit the most highlights in my mind. Now that we’re faced with the prospect of hosting our first real social event since the time we got married I’m a little scared that we’re maybe not doing enough. It should be fine. Lord knows that the ultimate arbiters of taste — the kids — aren’t going to be too judgmental about the shindig so long as there’s activities, pizza, and cake. And if the excited screams usually terminating in a semi-slurred “ChuggaCheese” coming from her room are any indication it really doesn’t matter if she plays with friends or by herself. There’s more than enough time to be alone though and plays well with others is definitely a skill to be cultivated.

Mike

Bert Day

Dear J-

figgy has been chock full o’crazy lately; theVet tells me that breakthroughs in one area may lead to regression in others.  In other words, potty train your child at the cost of throwing more and more aggressive tantrums, for instance.  Every so often, though, you get a chance to compare notes with other parents:  we went to a birthday party today.

Sometimes I think the social aspects of the birthday party are just as important for the parents as the kids; if that’s true then I’ve failed pretty miserably today, hiding behind the camera and muttering guttural monosyllabic answers in response to most questions.  I suppose that you’ve got to let the kids play on their own, but for now I like to keep an eye out when I can.

For what it’s worth, I always walk away from these things with more pictures than I know what to do with but share with the other parents.  It’s not something that I’m going to ever be able to make a living at, but  it’s nice to drill some spontaneous shooting skills.

Mike

Day 07: Calm Down

Dear J-

Everything was pretty flat today for me; we had a productive day of learning about goal setting and delegation, but the real meat of the day came right around mid-day (and we’re not talking about the excellent fajitas; it would have made a tidy steak if it hadn’t been chopped to bits); we were told that half the class would be sent off to an alternate course for Thursday and Friday instead of staying with the rest of us for Conflict Management.

For me, it seems strange that we couldn’t have scheduled the other course without a conflict, unless it was in danger of being cancelled for lack of participants. And although they’d have to draft participants on short notice for a two-day course, many of us in this Leadership Academy got even less notice for a five-week class, so it’s not completely unprecedented. I’ll admit that it was not our finest hour as a collection of functional adults, but we got what we wanted after rallying to the cause: all of us, together. Isn’t it funny what happens when you throw sixteen people together for a week?

It’s my birthday today, by the way; I got to spend a bunch of money today on things I need but don’t necessarily want (new clutch and a rental car — a 2010 Ford Focus with strangely loud brakes for 11,000 miles). The acquisition of new fun stuff should take a back seat to repairing what I’ve got (it’s way easier and saner to keep the cameras you’ve got, instead of getting new ones, but that doesn’t stop me from looking). And it makes more sense to fix the car I’ve got, but that won’t stop me from sniffing that new-car smell all the way tomorrow.

Mike

Two Year Revue

Dear J-

I keep making excuses, although we don’t have that much further to run — figgy’s real birthday is Wednesday, but weekends are much easier to observe these things. The second birthday isn’t as big in any culture, I think, except to mark the transition to the terrible twos. My personal hypothesis for that has to do with developmental issues — you’re somewhere between knowing what you want and not being able to say it; the cliché of “use your words” is actually pretty accurate. Therefore, the two-year review:

• 200 gallons of milk consumed (mostly soy)
• 150 extra trips around the block trying to get her to fall asleep
• 100 weeks with at least one tantrum
• 75 steps, average, taken before asking for UPS, UPS, UPS
• 50 dollars usually spent on toys quickly discarded in favor of a rock, or a leaf
• 30 seconds, nominally, until the next request
• 20 years wondering what life would be like with a figgy
• 15 percent, time, money, and effort spent trying to guess correctly
• 10 hours a day worked means no time for figgy, terrible for all of us
• 5 different ways of pronouncing Daddy, depending on what’s needed
• 2 cupcakes destroyed today
• 1 more heart won, as usual

Mike

Beat It

Dear J-

It feels like I come to work full of enthusiasm and ready to knock out a ton of work, that naivete gets beaten out of me by say, 9 AM, and I end up counting myself lucky to have gotten anything done by the time I head home.  Dry your eyes, I know; it’s the same story that follows every single person every day — some odious task, some disagreeable thing will always be on the schedule, and you might as well spend time worrying about what you can affect, instead of stewing over that black dot on your schedule.

There’s a ton of different things that we have lined up for this weekend — we’re observing figgy’s birthday at a time convenient for other people, and even throwing together something so simple, where we’re not even entertaining at home (it’s a picnic at the Zoo) is still exhausting.  The fun of the birthday is nearly overwhelmed by the planning to pull off the task; it’s a little like our wedding, where I couldn’t even taste the food for how overwhelmed I was.  Nah, it’s just a little birthday; I’m sure that I’ll look back and laugh at the exaggeration.

I do see that Chrysler has pulled the trigger on bankruptcy; the partnership with Fiat is essentially done, and Bob Nardelli, having run a second company into the ground (but not yet unemployed — he’s got a consulting gig lined up with Cerberus — such is the aegis bestowed by Jack Welch, I suppose), is out.  I talk about the overwhelming uncertainty facing us at work, but I realize that as always, we are so lucky in comparison.

Mike

Attendant Doubt

Dear J-

Perhaps almost as important as the first birthday is the first birthday party — not the one you have, but the one you go to.  Does it set an expectation of fun or anxiety?  You go from being overwhelmed by cake and ice cream to making a checklist of expectations, from live entertainment (clowns or not) to rental equipment (giant bouncing castles), so quickly.  How many times have our parents admonished us to keep our nice clothes neat, to compliment the birthday boy/girl and be polite to the parents, shake hands and yes sir yes ma’am?

Is it different today?  I remember being dropped off at birthday parties, but not having my parents present — do you take it as an opportunity to relive some child-style fun?  After all, who wouldn’t want to jump on large inflatable furniture?  Or do you take a break on the sidelines, watching and trusting from afar?  There will be a time in her life when figgy can’t stand to be seen with us, but for now it’s hard to reconcile that coming time with the little person towing us around everywhere she goes.

But you can’t build up her confidence — her easy greetings of strangers, for instance, is because she’s been in day care — without pushing her away a little.  Getting that balance right is tricky.

Mike

Sieve Mind

Dear J-

Junior was talking about memories the other day and I have to add that it’s not necessarily the times you spend putting the most effort into — ask me to name a birthday from my youth and I’ll probably point out my fifteenth, when my family was out of town and I went to stay with Charlie’s folks; after pizza we went down to Excell Foods to pick out my favorite ice cream (I said Cookies’n Cream but maybe that’s because we only ever had Maple Nut at home and I didn’t want to remind myself of missing family that particular night) and a movie to watch — but rather the things we do most consistently.

I ring my bell outside the door most nights and listen for figgy to come screaming up to the door with a “daddy daddy;” maybe repetition is our strongest learning tool.  We pick up habits through unconscious emulation; theVet keeps telling me to watch myself around figgy because you never know what kind of weird thing she’ll pick up next.  The other day I pushed Oliver away from the high chair (he has a little circuit — get up from bed, go drink water, check high chair for spilled crumbs, back to bed) with my foot and some force — and was not pleased to see figgy putting her foot on Oliver moments later.  It is an awesome responsibility, knowing every moment is a teaching moment; are you the person you want to be, knowing you fall under fierce scrutiny?

Mike

Time’s Mirror

Dear J-

Today’s my brother’s birthday; we have a cousin precisely three days older who used to live in the exotic land of Saudi Arabia (his dad, our uncle, worked for ARAMCO, and to compensate for the hassles of living out there, was well-compensated with crazy benefits, such as paying for boarding school, etc.).  I used to think that there was some kind of weird coincidence to having birthdays so close together, but considering there’s six billion people and only three hundred and sixty-five days to divide them up into, there’s bound to be a little overlap there.

He’s always been one of my heroes, by the way.  There was one year that he went through a modern algebra course — a senior college-level course, mind you — while still in high school, and managed to not miss any points that year.  Perfect homework, perfect quizzes, perfect exams.  Plus his fast-twitch skills were well beyond mine; we would play cooperative multiplayer games (TMNT II on the NES!) and it turned out that he did much better solo than when I tagged along — there were times that I lost track of which turtle I was controlling and thought I was doing very well.

Now that we’ve both unleashed a new generation on the world, I think I begin to understand him better now; I can see where we used to both revel in the seemingly limitless freedom following moving away from Cheney, and I can see where we apply the lessons we learned there in our lives today.  Fifteen years ago is now just under half our lives; fifteen years ago our lives were different — not better, different — and fifteen years ago we were kids ourselves believing everything.

Time reveals everything; for us I believe that time’s given us the perspective and opportunity to try on different personalities to see what aspects fit, and which didn’t stick.  Time’s crucible refines us, but fails to define us.  Despite wearing glasses for twenty-five years the face in the mirror gets clearer every day.

Mike