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

Kolonoscopy

A close family member recently was diagnosed with an illness, and their revelation was a wake up call for me to get myself checked. No one generally volunteers for a colonoscopy, usually not earlier than a doctor typically orders one, but it seemed prudent to get checked now. Having young daughters certainly was a consideration, and they were very curious to know what was going on when I could not eat dinner with them.

The prep was worse than the procedure.

For those of you youngsters that have never had a colonoscopy, the day and a half of no food, and enduring a liquid diet is surely bearable, but the moment you drink the 64 oz of Gatorade mixed with super mega colon blow powder, you and your ego go down the toilet. I am firmly convinced that colonoscopy prep is karma for every dumb thing I've done to a girl since I was a 5 year old. Somewhere, a young woman who's hair I must have pulled in 2nd grade is laughing at me as she reads this story...

A friend decided to send me a massive number of colonoscopy memes. If I laughed too hard, bad things could have happened...

My girls found this whole debacle hilarious. The extra giggles when mom described what dad had to do, and to get out of his way if he was running toward the restroom, caused the room to fill with child laughter. They were excited to make jello for me, and certainly found their way into my hard candy stash, two of the limited things I was able to eat during my 2 days of prep.

As my family drove me to the hospital for the test, I was asked why I had to go.
I was asked why I needed the test.
I was asked when I would get out of the hospital.
I was asked why they couldn't wait in the hospital room for me

That final question struck me. I didn't want my girls to see me sick or incapacitated. I was concerned they would be scared.

So off I sent my family as I waited with an IV in my arm and my rear end hanging out of an undersized gown, watching real housewives of orange county, which by the way, is disturbing enough to have cleaned my colon out by itself. Dr. Cold Hands came to visit, and explained the procedure to me. He asked why I was in at my young age, but certainly didn't offer to remove the IV for me. I was eventually wheeled into the procedure room, my first gurney ride that I remember. I had always pictured Dr. Gregory House and a slew of 7 doctors and nurses running with my gurney, and was slightly disappointed when my only nurse Nancy wouldn't speak medical talk for me and tell me in an urgent voice that I had an elongated medulla oblongata that required 24 cc's of something stat on the way to the room. She did not seem to find the humor in this.

When we got to the dark room of scoping, I was told to roll on my side into the fetal position, which made me quite nervous. I locked eyes with Nancy, and we shared a moment. In that moment, Nancy knew I was about to beg for clemency or anesthesia, she smiled and said gently,"Are you ok?"
I asked, "Anesthesia truck not deliver today?"
She laughed, and after a quick twitch of her wrist on the IV, she leaned in and said, "24 cc's of ..... stat!" I smiled, and the last thing I recall was her laugh.

Post procedure when I awoke in my room, I could hear giggling children outside the door. Dr. Cold Hands came in to speak to me and let me know I had the all clear and a 5 year return visit to schedule. My children came into the room with their mother, and immediately began to ask questions. Was I ok? Could I leave the hospital? Can they see the pictures?

They had no fear, no concerns, and I quickly realized it was not my place to keep my kids away. It was more important for them to know what was going on and feel free to ask questions. The ride home was filled with much wonder from the back seat, like when could I eat? What was the experience like? Did they still have to get out of the way if I was running to the bathroom?

So moral of the story, I have no idea if there is a moral here.

Just a suggestion, be nice to people, you never know when the kolonoscopy karma will come calling....

Vierauge

My oldest daughter doesn't know who Teddy Roosevelt is or what the heck "Vierauge" means. Both are foreign to her, and at the age of 7, I'm glad they are. If it weren't for one of them, the other may have hurt her feelings recently.

Recently, an insightful teacher at our daughters school noticed our oldest squinting from the back of class to read the smart board. She indicated that our daughter was having difficulty reading from a distance, and she suggested a vision check. At first, my wife and I thought perhaps this was simply one of the many unusual facial contortions that our daughter utilizes to communicate uncomfortable subjects like frustration, confusion, or bathroom needs. A quick chat with the squinter produced clarity, she didn't have to poop every time the smart board was used, she had difficulty reading some of the smaller words.

I recall when it was determined I needed glasses as a youth. I dreaded it. I didn't want it. I knew my social life, sports life, and image would forever be changed, and I feared then, it would never recover. I recall the perception of weakness when I wore rec specs to play sports, and remember vividly the excitement I experienced when I could finally afford laser surgery. I need only one example to explain my dread, the German term for "Four-Eyes" when I looked it up on line for the translation, used it in this sentence, "You just got pantsed in the schoolyard vierauge (four-eyes)"

According to the vision center of America, roughly 75% of all adults in this country utilize some form of vision correction. Eye glasses are the preferred method, with over 64% of those eye correctors choosing eyeglasses. In and of itself, the sheer amount of adult folks utilizing eye glasses should reduce the stigma of wearing them, there is safety in the schoolyard in numbers. But I still feared my daughter may find difficulty with having these spectacles. Critics hide in their own insecurities, and a father's teachings must end in his daughter's self esteem, which will win is a battle fought in a place we don't get to see.

Teddy Roosevelt is widely credited for increasing the popularity of glasses in the 1900's, and in particular, lending wisdom and strength to the image of those who may wear them in the future. Teddy also has some wonderful quotes, and one in particular I found relevant for this, "It behooves every man to remember that the work of the critic is of altogether secondary importance, and that in the end, progress is accomplished by the man who does things"

My daughter confidently choose 2 pair, the most unique of which titled "Hot Kiss" is aqua colored with a multi speckled tiger colored exterior finish that I'm sure would glow in the dark. They arrived early, and she could not wait to wear them to school. In complete contrast to my fears for her, she received support, encouragement, and the schoolyard was extremely kind. Frankly, I switched from worrying about how she would be accepted, to worrying how many times my daughter would try to lend them to someone else on the world tour of the glowing glasses.

I'm thankful for the acceptance, it sure makes reinforcing the self esteem a bit easier. Glad she did not have to learn "Vierauge" or get pantsed in the schoolyard for wearing glasses.

Enjoy

bvd

College

I recently shared with my girls I was returning to college.

Ever wanted to blow a 4 year old's mind and not know how? Tell them you decided to go back to school when they still think you know everything. My youngest let that marinate for about 5 minutes with no other comments, and then all of a sudden, a barrage of questions flew and I chose to quick hit the answers and see how long she could roll.

Why are you going back? I have a goal I want to accomplish, and I like to learn
Old people go to school? Technically child I'm not that old....but yes
I thought school was for kids? I left a tad early.
What's a tad? It's about your size, and it asks lots of questions
Are you going to play volleyball for your school? If they have an over 40 team with lower nets and promise I won't yank a hammy, maybe.
Does this mean we can do homework together? I would like help with calculus, you got my back?
Is your teacher nice? They seem to be, but can you really know anyone on the internet?
Do you get recess? It's called happy hour, same general concept
Do you get a buddy? I get one at school, it's a 4th grader. Just the other "students" at happy hour
Why don't you have a uniform? They don't make 'em in my size, but you look good in yours...

The exchange made me think. Am I communicating what I want her to believe about learning as a life long endeavor, or, have I been conveying that learning is only for kids and when they finish school they are done?

At a certain point in the conversation with her, it must have sunk in that I was in some type of "adult" school for old people. I now receive encouragement from her when I sit down with my laptop to complete my homework. Sometimes that encouragement is hidden in the form of "you're done right?" repeated 74 times while attempting to get my attention. I've received no calculus help offered yet, however, I'm sure she would lend me her crayons and dolphin lunch box.

Without going back to college, how do you teach a child to enjoy learning so much, they take joy from the process of doing so and decide to continue doing it? How do you convey that learning happens in and out of college, and is really a mindset? I've met many people who would benefit from the paraphrased advice of the Dalai Lama, "If you speak, you only learn what you already know, but if you listen..."

Perhaps teaching my children to be better listeners is the first step now. Perhaps the second will be to encourage them to love the process of learning by positively reinforcing attempts and failures as learning errors. If they love to make attempts, regardless of outcome, and listen well, perhaps they will find the joy in the process.

I doubt their minds will be blown if I'm still finishing school when they are 13, although, Rodney Dangerfield has certainly laid a blueprint for an interesting college experience if I'm still in college when I'm 60. Regardless, the experience has taught me that I need to work harder on teaching my girls to enjoy the process and not the outcome.

I plan to give it the old college try, so in the immortal words of Thornton Melon from Back to School:

"Please, try to understand. I don't have the background for this. I mean, the high school I went to, they asked a kid to prove the law of gravity, he threw the teacher out the window!"

Enjoy

bvd

The struggle is real

If you have ever attempted to "share" the feelings of a seven year old daughter as described above in the definition of empathy, it's a bit like riding a roller coaster with no seat belt while alternating between holding on and crying, or raising your arms and laughing till your stomach hurts. And I almost forgot to add, the roller coaster may be on fire or may be perfectly fine, you won't know for about 10-15 years after the ride if you did your job as the carney appropriately.

Yesterday, my wife and I shared a discussion with our 7 year old version of Clark Griswold on a coaster, and I learned in some of her frustrated words, I was not "able to understanding her feelings". Personally I thought this began at age 13 and lasted till the 20's, so perhaps, we are going to have this run a bit earlier, which means we will get this knocked out before high school? Or it could mean state fair is going to last an extra 7 years and I'm going to be buying a lot of popcorn for the show.

So I chose to run this discussion like we were excavating an Egyptian tomb, slowly and carefully.

Background:

We have three family rules for our kids in sports:

1. Look your coaches in the eyes, listen and say thank you after each practice or game
2. Give your best effort
3. Have fun

I watched a sporting event yesterday evening where it appeared my daughter was not having fun. Her coach asked her three times if she was hurt, and told her 7 times where she should be on the field and wasn't, as he was yelling her name sternly and clearly frustrated. This was her first year and game moving from the little field to the big field, and shifting from 4 players to 8 on a side, along with an age jump playing against kids 1-2 years older than her. So as the youngest player on the field, we had expected a rough transition, and certainly witnessed one. So my wife and I agreed I would drive her home.

I began the conversation as I always do, "Did you have fun?"

The answer was a mumbled maybe, clearly a "Hell No! Did you see me out there and hear my coach hollering my full name like I had broken a Ming Vase?", in my 7 year old's language of course.

So I asked, "What would you need to change for you to enjoy it?"

I received a shrug in the rear view mirror. Silence for a taylor swift song to finish....which seemed overly long by the way.

"Dad I was tired, I don't like all this running around on the large field, I should not have signed up for this sport when I knew about all the running"

Inside I was smiling, I'm not a huge running fan either kiddo, and not sure I'm ready yet for pop up chairs and over excited dad's on the sideline yelling "cross it" and "foul" at 7-9 year olds. But that was selfish of me, as would have been the decision she likely wanted to make. She became frustrated I did not understand her and she let me know it. I asked her if I could ask some questions to better understand her feelings. She said yes.

"All the other kids did the same running, so tired isn't an excuse for not listening or giving your best effort is it? Her answer was no. "Were you hurt?" Her answer was no. "Did your effort help your team?" Her answer was no. "Did you commit to play this year?" Her answer was yes.

"So what do you think you can do to make this more fun and help your team for the remainder of the year?" Her answer was definitive "Listen to my coach and give my best effort"

It's fair to say that the discussion was difficult for my daughter, she was uncomfortable at several points. I spent a few minutes sharing her feelings, and a few minutes where it felt as though she shared mine. The ride was our first addressing why she did not have fun in a sporting event, new ground for both of us.

I have zero idea whether this conversation was effective, for all I know, I could have taken the roller coaster off the tracks and set it on fire myself. But like most things difficult, they usually are worth doing. Either way, what a lesson for me as a parent on empathy and a lesson for her on commitment. I will learn in the future if the juice was worth the squeeze.

Enjoy!

bvd