'Merson

So we recently passed a fun milestone. Our son Emerson is now 11 months old. I thought I was getting pretty good at this parenting thing until we got a second one. Ellery isn't exactly the calmest soul on the planet but at least there was just one of her.

That said though, there are some definite things I've learned over the last year about kids and myself that I didn't know before we had the second one.

1. The whole nurture over nature thing is limited. It's crazy just how different Emerson and Ellery are from each other. And it's noticeable in a bunch of small ways. Like getting dressed. In general, Ellery seemed to enjoy getting dressed when she was 1. At least she cooperated a bit. Emerson reacts as if we're trying to poke him full of needles. He also enjoys music but not near to the extent that Ellery did/does. She would often stop everything she was doing so that she could listen to a particular song. Like "I'm Gonna Be" by the Proclaimers.

2. Sleep is a luxury my wife doesn't get right now. She has always had the insane ability to be able to wake up at the drop of a hat when one of the kids is fussy. She will routinely get up to settle the kids down and I won't even be aware that the kids were even awake. I try. I really do. But Christina has the equivalent of a superpower that I do not possess. I do not know if she considers it a superpower or a curse though.

3. I've been doing more thinking about what kid of lessons I want Emerson to internalize simply because he's a boy. Sometimes these are different lessons from what I give Ellery. There is definitely a prominent person in American politics that I do not want him Emulating. I want him to see the value in being thoughtful, considerate, and wise. There are a lot of people who think male strength lies in being assertive or loud, but I want him to see that true leadership cannot occur without empathy.

And it's not just that I think empathy is important to being a good person. It's a straight-up employable skill. Markiplier has thousands of followers on Youtube not because he's funny, but because he is very good at connecting with his audience and conveying emotion. Donald Trump is in a heap of trouble right now over comments he made 11 years ago because he is really, really bad at SHOWING HE'S SORRY. I imagine he hasn't had much practice doing that.

End of Forensics Season

While it's been, at times, a long grind, I always find myself a bit sad at the end of forensics season.

Over the course of the season, I took kids out to compete 26 times. That's 26 times I was either up early, out late, or both. Twenty 26 times I visited tab rooms to anxiously await results. Twenty-six times I got to inform students that they either medaled or came up disappointingly short.

There just isn't a great way to describe the thrill of getting to see a student succeed in this competition. When you spend as much time as they do perfecting their craft, talking to walls, making a pause in a performance last a heartbeat longer, emphasizing the exact right word in a delivery...well, it all gets a little overwhelming.

But when they can come away with something that recognizes all their hard work, it's extremely satisfying to me as a coach: to see that moment when their eyes light up when I tell them they made it in to finals for the first time ever; to see their smile when they realize they got a "1" on a ballot; to see them tear up when they fail...

Because that's the other side of the coin, isn't it? That there are going to be times when it doesn't work out. That there will be times when they try really, really hard and still fail. That they will realize that there's always someone out there who is just a little bit better than they are.

Even that is a little thrilling. If I see a student shrug off a bad performance like it was not big deal, I actually get a little concerned. Because if losing doesn't matter to them, then perhaps they never really cared at all.

I'm not saying that we shouldn't be prepared to move on when we fail. That's the exact skill we're trying to teach, isn't it? But when we fail at achieving something we really, really want, we learn so much more than if we fail at something we DIDN'T really care about. This morning I failed at making my bed before I left the house. Did I learn from my failure? Not really, because at this particular moment in my adult life, I couldn't really care less even if a live raccoon were making a nest in my bed while I was gone during the day.

But when you picture yourself being on the final stage at State all season and find out that someone else beat you there, that's a tough pill to swallow. And at that point, the focus shifts to the intrinsic value of trying your hardest. Because after all, great competitors chase perfection, knowing that they're never going to attain it, but striving anyway. And that's a big deal.

I was lucky to get to take 15 students to State this year. We might not get that many next year, but the journey to achieve something great will still be well worth it.

Embarasing Confessions

There are a number of things that I'm not proud of. Wait, that sentence ended in a preposition. Let me fix that....

There are a number of things of which I am not proud.

Phew.

Anyway, yeah, I'm not proud of several things. I'm not going to confess anything major here. My life is fairly routine and somewhat boring, to be honest. But there's still some deep, dark secrets that I'd like to get off my chest. Here are my top 5 embarasing confessions.

1. I find the TV show Downton Abbey interesting. 

Oh man, this is a big one.

Even when I describe the show to people it sounds boring. A part of me wants to hit myself when I mention all the drama surrounding Lady Grantham's garden party. Something about a bunch of up-tight Brits who can't express their true feelings openly just feels super snooty. Heaven forbid someone establish their dominance in a way other than a well-timed passive aggressive comment.

And yet I've watched it. And I've watched it more than once. And it doesn't make me feel cultured. It doesn't make me feel smart. It makes me feel like kicking myself for actually liking it.

What would the dowager countess say to me if she knew this....

2. I could eat nothing but pizza for days on end

I know I could do this because I've done it before.

If I could go an entire week without using a pot or a pan, and only eating frozen pizza, I would probably do it. And I would do it while sitting on the couch watching TV. Probably Downton Abbey.

After I've done that, I always have the exact same thought: "That was an enormous mistake." My stomach hates me for it. I lose energy. My face will feel greasy. But come the next day, when the option is cooking something or throwing a pizza in the microwave or the toaster oven, the result is always the same.

3. I forget names easily

This one is very difficult for me. I always admire people who have a knack for remembering names quickly and permanently. For me, however, I always struggle to remember people I met five minutes ago. I can remember faces. Faces are fine. But naming that face? Nope. Oftentimes I'll cop-out by calling someone "Buddy" or "Chief" instead of their actual name. Then, 10 minutes later, I remember who they are. And my shame spiral begins....

4. I could play the same video game for days straight if I didn't need to stop and eat food

There was a time when this would not cause me to feel shame at all. But that's changed. Now, as an adult, I'm judged on how productive I am and how organized my life is. If I spend hours playing a video game, that means that I spent hours NOT doing something else. That means that chances are, I wasn't playing with one of my kids. That means that there were dishes that did not get washed, or a yard that did not get raked. The time I spent on a game isn't something I can easily justify anymore. And anyway, I never finish a game feeling better about myself than I did before I started.

5. A tiny part of me still really loves Pokemon, Power Rangers, and all the other dumb things I liked as a kid

This isn't something that will change anytime soon. But I could honestly watch the Pokemon TV show, specifically the episode titled "Bye-bye Butterfree" and tear up again. I could watch an old episode of Power Rangers and still find myself cheering on the Red Ranger (the White Ranger is a poser - the guy literally used to be evil, and they turned around and made him the leader).

I know it's dumb. I know they sold that stuff to kids like me because kids don't know good stuff when they see it and they knew they could make a buck. But they still made me care, gosh darn it. And the logical part of my brain can't stop that from happening.

My Snake Story

Sunday was the sort of typical lazy summer day that has come to define July and August for my wife and me. We attended church, ate lunch, went grocery shopping, and worked to keep our 21-month-old daughter entertained.

As Christina played with Ellery, I went to the kitchen to grab what I call a "power snack" (which is a much cooler way of saying 'peanut butter and jelly sandwich) when I noticed that part of the surface of the stove was moving. A moment later, comprehension fell on me with all the force of a piano on a cartoon character:

It was a snake.

A snake in my home.

On a thing where I usually put food.

Staring me down and spitting its forked tongue at me.

Adrenaline flooded my bloodstream.* My muscles tensed. A trickle of sweat formed on my brow. My mouth went dry.

I was face-to-face with a demon that has been the bane of humankind since the days of Adam. It slithered, slithered in the most snaky way, behind our sugar container, where it began to plot my demise. It was then that I understood my true purpose in life. I knew then why I had been put on this earth:

I was destined to destroy this snake.

Yes, like one of the heroes of old, I too must vanquish a fearsome beast. Just as Beowulf slew Grendel, just as Bard slew Smaug, I must slay this veritable Beelzebub of evil.

I must kill the snake.

I quickly began to assess my environment for my weapon of choice. Perhaps a knife? The knives were a wedding present from Phil and Jamie Van Horn. Little did they know their gifts would prove to save the lives of myself and my family. Yes, a knife would decapitate the monster and send it to snake hell. Which, I assume, is just regular hell. But alas, what if the snake should sprout two heads where the one had once been? After all, that was Hercules' blunder when he fought and nearly lost to the Hydra. A different tactic would be more prudent.

Instead, I seized upon one of our magic weapons in our utensil caddy: metal tongs.


One of the tongs of glory.

 

But I had not just one tong, but two! Surely, even a beast such as this would not expect his opponent to dual-wield metal tongs. What devil would be prepared for an onslaught such as this?

 

But at the critical moment, when victory seemed at hand, the snake launched its surprise assault. From behind its sugar-container-lair, it emerged and rose up, high into the air, and spit its tongue furiously in my general direction. I came at it with the tongs, but with a hiss of fury, it bobbed and weaved with an agility that would make Emmett Smith envious. It darted back across my stove and dived for the space between the counter and the refrigerator. I seized it by the tail, but with a mighty wrench, it sprung free. Pulling the refrigerator out, I glimpsed its tail as it disappeared down the hole from which our water pipe reaches the refrigerator. 

 

You win this time, snake.

 

.....but the battle was not over.

Yesterday afternoon I returned home from a day of district in-service. I picked up my daughter from the babysitter and immediately began attending to a number of household chores. I began to tackle the mountain of dishes that required some hand washing when out of the depths of the sink leapt THE DEMONIC SNAKE!

SWEET BUTTER CRUMPET!! IT WAS IN THE SINK!! IT'S RIGHT BY MY HAND!!

I let forth my mighty war cry (it was not, I repeat, NOT a girlish shriek) and forced the snake back to its sugary sanctuary. But I was filled with sudden doubt. I had lost in my first encounter. How could I possibly prevail? I began to question my ability to win this engagement. I felt like how The Little Giants probably felt at halftime.

Then, a sense of calm, a sense of peace, began to course through me. And the ghostly spectre of my father** come to me in a vision:

"Tape can solve almost any problem, son."

Immediately, I knew what I must do.

I went to the Junk Drawer of Champions and removed the single greatest weapon of all: clear plastic packing tape. I set about removing long strips of the adhesive and bending it back on itself to make it double-sided. I set about to encircle my slithery Satan. There would be no escape this time!

Calmly, I removed the sugar container. The snake, sensing danger, immediately sought its refrigerator escape, but NO! The trap had caught it! With a mighty hiss, it reared up and thrashed about! Slamming the counter and entrapping itself further, it hissed, and it spat. The tape began to smother its movements as its fury proved fruitless. It was like something out of the Book of Revelation. I let out a mighty roar and began to contemplate how I would destroy it.

But as I stared at the snake, the snake stared back. I was struck by just how big its eyes are. That is not something that had ever occurred to me before...that snakes could have big eyes. Almost like Disney eyes. It seemed...almost....almost human.

And so I decided: there would be no sweet dose of murder for Snaky Snake (I had named it in my head by this point). No. It had been a worthy opponent. An honorable opponent. And when the flag of surrender had been flown, there was no point in continuing on with my hatred. What was done was done.

I journeyed with the snake to a far away land where I released it into the wild. Mind you, removing three feet of tape from a live snake is a bit dicey when you're doing all you can not to actually TOUCH the thing (we're not friends or anything). But eventually I succeeded and bid it farewell. Perhaps one day it will have children. And tell them of the great battle it had once fought against me. And those children will tell their children until generations later, one of my own offspring comes face-to-face with a descendant of that first snake...

...in which case I hope he or she really does kill the thing. Seriously? Trying to get BACK into the house? That's just stupid.


*someone check the science of that sentence for me.

**my father is very much alive. "Ghostly spectre" just sounded cool to me.

A Letter to My Daughter

Dear Ellery,

You're too small to understand a word of this right now. In fact, I'm willing to bet that as I write this at the end of a debate practice at Buhler High School, you are laughing in your mother's lap as she plays patty-cake with you.

But that won't be the case forever. Soon, (too soon) you will grow up. You will get smart. And you will begin to do more and more without your mom and dad to help you. I'm not old enough to quit seeking advice, but I have a few nuggets of wisdom that I'd like you to know and I hope you learn:

• Limits. You will hear people talk about what girls can and can't do. Never listen to them. You're only limited by your own imagination. Don't like pink? Don't wear it. Want to play with army men? Play away. Your mother and I will love you just the same and we'll always encourage you no matter what. When your grandmother was little, she was told that if she wanted to go to college, she could only be either a nurse or a teacher. But you've got the world at your fingertips. Decide what you want to do and dive into it with abandon. 
• Happiness. It is not guaranteed. It is not a human right. But it is something you are allowed to pursue. Take joy in this pursuit, and know that "pursuit" takes effort and determination. Never take the easy path in the name of just being "happy." Don't lose the joy that comes with the pursuit of your goals. Many people think that their choice is between working and and just learning to be happy with where they're at. Don't sell yourself short by convincing yourself there isn't joy to be taken from supreme, difficult effort.  
• Faith. It's not just important. It's THE most important thing in your life. Your mother and I will raise you in the Church, and when you get older, your faith will be in your own hands. Pray in the good times. Pray in the bad times. And know that you were placed on this earth for a reason. You're not just occupying space while others move around you, but your life is guided by a divine purpose and a grand design. Sometimes, your mom and I think about all the things we "want" you to be when you grow up. But really, the most important thing we want is for you to be a Christian. Everything after that is so small in comparison.
• Beauty. Disney, magazines, TV all have their own ideas of beauty. Understand that it has absolutely nothing to do with what you look like and everything to do with your actions. If you want to know if you're beautiful, look at the things you do each and every day. Don't hide your beauty. Don't hide your talents. We're given too little time on this earth to waste it playing small.
• Adversity. Challenges make you stronger. Take joy in them and continually seek to overcome. Don't be afraid to fall. Every single failure is an opportunity to climb another mountain. Babe Ruth hit 714 home runs. He also struck out 1,330 times. I can't protect you from falling. And I don't want to. Falling is one of the best things that can happen to you. 
• Your parents. Right now we're pretty cool. You're too little for us not to be. Really, for all you know, we're horrible misfits. But there will come a time when you start to realize how very, very human we are. We will make mistakes. We will say things we don't mean. But we will always love you. Remember that your mom and dad pray all the time that we hope to do right by you and give you every opportunity to find your purpose and your place in this life.  
• Love. Your mom and I love you. And we know that someday you will love someone outside of this family. Many people will tell you that you need to follow your heart. Don't listen to them. While that idea can make for a nice romantic comedy on DVD, people who blindly follow their hearts find themselves in a heap of trouble. They become a bystander to the whims of their emotions. Instead of following, lead your heart. Show your heart who's the boss. It can do so much for you and bring you so much joy if you don't just hand it the keys to your life.  

We think the world of you. And that's not just because right now you're an adorable, small toddler. It's because you're our daughter. 

Love, 

Dad

Ellery's First Birthday

I stole this idea from Kevin Wilson at church. I thought it was such a neat idea that I wanted to try it out. This is a lot of the high points of Ellery's first year.

Top 5 Musicals - SSR

One of my students blogged about a favorite musical of his for his weekly class blog post and it got me thinking about all the musicals I've seen in my life. When your mom's a music teacher, having a good working knowledge of musicals becomes common household knowledge.

My top 5:

5. Pippin - This is a musical that does not translate to film very well. It's primarily only ever been done on stage, and it was done at my high school my senior year. I played the drum set in the pit orchestra and got to watch the musical come to life. I enjoy the story immensely, and the ending leaves the whole thing up to interpretation. 

4. The Sound of Music - Oh, Julie Andrews. Your warm songs thawed a cold man's  heart and brought joy back to his life. And of course, you have to hate those nasty Nazis.

3. Godspell - Another musical that's primarily shown on stage. It's an interesting take on the life of Jesus as portrayed by hippies/children. This was also performed at my high school, and I was again in the pit orchestra.

2. Mary Poppins - Julie Andrews again. Notice any themes here? And once again, we have a father whose cold heart must be thawed with music.

1. The Music Man - This musical is just straight-up fun. You have a lovable bad guy, a clueless town/lynch mob, a musically-gifted heroine, and comedy. Doesn't hurt that the music is insanely catchy, too.

Honorable mention: Rent, Frozen (it IS a musical), Phantom of the Opera, Schindler's List South Pacific.