Teen Relativity

My oldest daughter celebrated her birthday earlier this month, turning 8 years old. I attached a 3 generation photo from dinner at the hibachi restaurant which helps explain why my children are blond, and clearly indicates that I got the shaft in the old gene pool of flowing manes. For reference, prior to obtaining my currently overcooked burnt popcorn color and more hair on my chest than my head, I formerly basked in the golden glow of a 90's bowl cut and had aspirations of growing a pony or a man bun. Shattered dreams pave the road of the follicular challenged.

Incidentally, in dog years where you multiply the age of your dog by a multiplier like the commonly believed but incorrect 7, to give you the equivalent in human years, you are able to gauge the maturity level of your canine friend fairly accurately. If you are interested in learning more about this, here is a link to an article describing where the myth originated and the information from the study. The oldest recorded living dog, Max, a terrier dachshund beagle mix, made it to almost 30 human years before deciding to head to the big doghouse in the sky. The study generated evidence suggesting that dogs age quickly in year 1, then subsequently their aging slows, and varies widely depending on breed and sizeTurns out as an example, a Schnauzer at the age of 1 human year, has the equivalent maturity of a 14.6 year old in "dog years"

I am sure this study done in the 50's, given inflation, would cost many millions to perform in today's dollars, and I have decided, as a dad with daughters, that there needs to be an investment to understand a different age to maturity ratio, that will help fathers everywhere.

Why does it seem all ages equal 14 for your own daughters?

Having just turned 8, every time I see her smile and hop into her booster seat, I picture having to drive a 14 year old to a middle school dance in my dad car hoping that it's winter so she is bundled up in a snowsuit and long underwear for the evening.

Every time she fails to listen to her mother, I picture the selective hearing of a 14 year old teen deciding that an eventual electronic takes precedence over her matriarch while her father prepares to intervene before another remake of "Clash of the Titans" occurs in my home. We all know sequels rarely ever turn out better.

When I get to listen to my 8 year old explain why she verbally lashed at her younger sister for being in her room and taking her toys, it's natural for me to imagine a 14 year old ripping a dress from her cat burglar of a younger sister who managed to extrapolate the one dress her sister would notice was missing, from a closet that couldn't fit a loose sheet of paper it was stuffed so full of garments already.

I'm resigned to the fact that this won't likely change, and the anecdotal evidence suggests that as she ages, my viewing lens won't alter much.

I've surmised when I see her at 18 or 20 studying for an exam, my default will be memories of lazy Saturday mornings reading together on the couch, perhaps picturing her reading Lord of the Flies or Catcher in the Rye 

When she calls someday at 25 to talk about someone she met who melted her heart, Ill think back to some whispering conversation from the kitchen between a 14 year old and her mom, about a crush her dad wasn't supposed to hear about from the living room, but that her little sister was all so proud to document with some recording app on her phone and playback loudly while running around the house with her sister chasing her.

When she visits for a Christmas with her new family, and I see her slide her broccoli to the side of her plate, covered smoothly with some uneaten mashed potatoes and wink at me. I'll picture my 14 year old who used to wink with both eyes and a wide open mouth, to let me know she and I were operating on the same wave length.

I look forward to doing my own study on this theory of teen relativity. I have a feeling in the immortal words of Randy Bachman of Bachman Turner Overdrive, "You ain't seen nothing yet...."

Enjoy!

bvd

Shalom My Friends

Went for a walk with my girls at a local wildlife sanctuary called Shalom a little while back, and I grabbed some photos while we were there. I was sitting on this blog for a few weeks, and after a long week of watching a number of my friends deal with the stress of trying to find club volleyball teams for their daughters to play on while other friends try to make these teams from groups of individuals and parents, it felt right to write.

Shalom is a Hebrew greeting meaning "Peace" or "Harmony" according to the Oxford Dictionary. Apparently the Oxford folks got the definition of Shalom correct. Having been burned by the Yiddish meaning of the word "Schmuck" once after using it in a discussion with a Jewish friend who kindly enlightened me, I learned to verify with multiple sources before attempting to use a word from another culture or religion of which I have very little knowledge. I therefore triple checked to make sure Oxford was correct on Shalom.

What struck me about Shalom Sanctuary was how well they communicated their values. Start to finish pulling in to leaving, there was no doubt about what they believed, and how they planned to share the meaning of their name. Here is a link to their site if you care to explore or you happen to be in West Bend Wisconsin in the future and decide to visit; Shalom Wildlife Sanctuary.

The Shalom sanctuary is nestled in a rural area, well off the freeway in southeastern Wisconsin. It has gorgeous paths through a beautiful wooded forest, surrounded by large open roaming areas for unique wildlife. Herds of endangered albino deer, elk, white tail, buffalo, camels, and more roam in an open format like Jurassic Park without the computer generated terror. The interaction with the wildlife there involves viewing and feeding the animals as you casually stroll around the several mile trail. You purchase stale corn in a large white bucket, and must earn the trust of the hoofed creatures roaming the pastures to get to feed them up close. It's kinda like the brilliant family dog who hears the freezer open and comes running to greet the 3 year old. The dog knows he is going to get his ears tugged and some weird looks, but he likes his odds that he will get to lick the ice cream cone before it hurts. There was a very tranquil silence as we walked through the woods, and the animals went about their ways in a relaxed and peaceful pace.

Shalom had signs placed throughout the trail, and one in particular caught my eye and made me stop for the photo above.

Ego vs Eco

I immediately began to think of all the successful people I have been blessed to meet, all the successful families that pop in and out of my life, all of the successful businesses I've seen or been a part of, and of course sports teams I've watched or been a part of. My head went to teams I've coached where the entire season was spent trying to obtain Eco together, and eliminate Ego. I could substitute people in place of the animals in the Ego image, and pretty well sum up most of the BS happening in the world these days. It felt relatively obvious, and yet most days, it's difficult to see the forest through the trees.

As I watched my girls bound to the next herbivore and prayed they wouldn't get hoof and mouth disease or trampled by an elk who realized the chicken wire can't stop a chicken, I took pleasure in knowing that there are signs like this in our everyday lives telling us to stop and think about what our needs or wants do to others. Many are not as blatant as this, and might show up in the form of someone helping you unexpectedly or achievements you can look back on where a teams needs took precedence above your own wants, and something special was achieved. I kept thinking about the times people did things for my daughters they didn't have to, and were completely selfless.

I wondered how best to communicate this concept to my girls, and make sure they grew up to see the value in Eco over Ego, not in the hug a tree eat grape nuts and granola sense, but in a little more complete picture on the effect we have on other people. I'm pretty sure I'll screw this one up, but I now know I can take my kids to a cool wildlife sanctuary, buy them a bucket of corn and make them read the sign every time we go there...at least until the elk figure out the mother load of corn is on the other side of the chicken wire that can't stop a chicken.

Cheers to kicking over whatever chicken wire might be holding us back from seeing the signs

Enjoy!

bvd

The maple tree in my yard is still there

First, thank you. My blog passed over 1,000 readers per month, even after I took a 2.5 week sabbatical. Why is that important? It's not, other than I feel I don't say thank you enough for the little things, and that doing so might make the world a little better place. I've never seen someone accept a thank you tossed their way with an angry face, so I've got that going for me.

Over the past several weeks, autumn twinkle-toed in gracefully like a well choreographed ballet followed by a Nov 8th prime time bout that many thought resembled the shock that the world had when Tyson bit Holyfield's ear off on national television.

I learned:

The maple tree in my yard is still there

Fall in Wisconsin is beautiful, and in particular, this fall has been filled with exceptionally nice weather. As a well insulated individual, the autumn in Wisconsin is quite a wonderful time to accessorize my wardrobe. I've found that a nice 60 degree day is perfect weather to put on crocs with socks or wear a sweater vest, you know, for those certain days where your chest might be cold but your guns are hot and need a little air.

I was wearing my sweater vest, and decided to rake leaves after work. The maple tree in our front yard was planted almost 17 years ago, and has done well. This particular afternoon, it had shed most of it's leaves and the kids were anxious to help create some fun. I dutifully raked and my girls excitedly jumped in to the pile. Every time the season changes, I'm reminded that the maple tree in my yard is still there.

While wearing a sweatshirt outside with shorts and sandals, I had to rake again a few days later as more leaves fell. This time, my daughter decided she wanted to climb the tree and read a book in the crook of the lowest branch. Odd, but creative, I obliged with a boost, and continued raking leaves. A few minutes later, I snapped a picture of her reading in her branch engrossed in a story about dolphins or such, and I was reminded that the maple tree in my yard is still there.

After I helped her down from the tree, she and her mother told me my daughter was worried that her birthday, on November 9th, would be ruined by the fact that 1/2 the country would be in a bad mood the day after the election, no matter who won. I gave that some thought, and tried to remember some of the things that I knew had not changed every time there was a change in presidents, and I was reminded, that the maple tree in my yard was still there.

One of my favorite books as a kid was "The Giving Tree" by Shel Silverstein. If you haven't read it in a while, it's a quick read. I clearly failed to understand the symbolism of the book as a child, as I probably dreamed about eating the apples the tree handed off and getting to wear a sweater vest when I was more insulated. As an adult, the meaning has changed a bit for me, and as I saw the book in our house the other day, I thought about how it applied to my girls and me.

Clearly, the unconditional love the tree had for the child most parents can relate to. On the flip side, it could symbolize an example of a horribly toxic co-dependent relationship, I have no clue what Shel's life was like and what kind of partying he was into.

Clearly, one could look at the tree like we see many of the most wonderful people we have all likely met in each of our lives, those that give what they can afford to, expect nothing in return, and always find happiness. We can look at the boy as those that always take more and always live unsatisfied. However, after the sadness and depression that many of my friends and family felt Wednesday morning, in comparison to the satisfaction (not joy) the other half of my friends and family felt for the election outcome, I'd offer up another takeaway that I relayed to my daughter when she worried that half of America would be sad on her birthday, regardless of who won;

There are still people who give what they can afford and expect nothing, and there will always be people who take and will never be satisfied, whether it is a gaggle of donkeys or a herd of elephants prancing about Washington. This doesn't change what kind of person you choose to be to others.

I'm reminded today, the maple tree is still in my yard, and every morning I get to choose to be the tree or the boy

Enjoy

bvd