Sometimes, at night, when you pass by a spirited little daughter who is now sleeping peacefully, there's nothing to do but lie down next to her and relax into the moment. Chances are, if you do, your wife will find you and snap a photo after you've drifted off...

Then, the next morning, when your wife leaves you at home alone with the kids while she goes off to work for a couple of hours, do you take advantage of the opportunity? Do you overcome the depressive call to stay home and do nothing? Yes! You do! You round up the kids and the neighbor boy and sally forth to meet the day, with bo-staff, sling shot, and ...


 

Hello Kitty boots! Down into the depths of Shoal Creek you go, in search of excitement, adventure, and really cool things. What do you find?



You find there is a creek to dam, puddles to stomp through, litter to collect, secret forts to make, crystalline rocks to collect, mini-waterfalls to watch, mud patterns to watch swirling through the water, sunshine to enjoy (good thing it was back into the 70's today), and a man from the USGS to meet who was working on the local water monitoring station. 

On a day like today, you can breathe deeply and let the sunshine and fresh air sweep away the cobwebs in your soul that come from too much time spent indoors.

Poor man's camera tripod

Thanks to David Pogue at the New York Times for this amazing bit of highly-valuable information, coming to you just in time for the holidays.

The threads in the bottom of your camera (for plugging into a tripod) are the same size as the threads on a lampshade screw.

If this seems trivial and unimportant to you, just hang on and keep reading. The implication of this is clear to those of us who have ever tried to balance a small digital camera on the back of a recliner chair and run around to stand in a family photo only to have the camera fall or tilt and ruin the photo. Now that you have this information, you can just unscrew the lampshade and replace it with your camera. The lampshade mounts swivels and tilts just like a tripod, and presto! you're in business, with tripod-quality camera placement and no more tilted family portraits.

Now, aren't you glad you still read this not-so-consistently updated blog?

A Bionicle Tale

My 8-year-old son Ian is destined for a career in writing. Behold his latest work. My only input was on some capitalization. Everything else is his, including drop-capital and word emphasis. I might add that this is a work in progress, and he's greedy for any spare lap-top time to work on it.

For the uninitiated, Bionicles are fantasy creatures from the Lego Universe, complete with online games, comics, books and an extensive back-story to drive sales.

uparu activated his laser drill. A red laser shot from the weapon,  and he slammed the drill into the bumpy rock face in front of him. Two drops of sweat the size of small pebbles fell off a spike on his mask and hit the cavern floor with a splash.The drill turned around and around at terrific speed. Oh, why Jaller, why do you have to make us miss literally hours of sleep, Nuparu thought, all  because of some shrimpy little Matoran’s coaxing, he added to his thoughts. Jaller had been coaxed by a group of native Matoran that had reported freaky invaders trying to convince the Voya Nui Matoran that they were  “Toa”. So far they were successful; but when it came to Garan and his team, Balta, Velika, Dalu, Piruk , and Kazi it  went over the edge of a cliff; not long after the canisters washed up on the beach the team suspected that the “Toa”-a voice interrupted his thoughts: “hey what are ya doing?-hey ow!” “Those pebbles sting!” Nuparu’s drill was sending a barrage of pebbles flying everywhere. He turned and looked to see Hewki standing a few feet away with his hands on his hips. The drill-bearing Toa of earth looked Hewki straight in the eye and said coldly: “says the Toa who controls stone-which means also pebbles.” “wow!” said Hewki, embarrassed. “I can’t believe I never thought of that” “well”, said Nuparu, “would you mind sneaking me a hand here”? “not at all!” said Hewki, “you know I like the rocks, and this place is a cavern” “plus, if these new guys the ol’fire ball sent us after are meaner than we think, there will be two of us” “good point” said Nuparu, even as his laser drill made a huge chunk of rock the same black shade of his armor topple out of the boulder and smash on the floor. Hewki lifted his laser axe up over his shoulder, activated the laser, and brought down with a smash. Chunks of rock flew everywhere. A smallish hole had been formed in the rock from the brute force of the impact, the laser buzzing on and from the axe, and the fact that Nuparu had been working on it before. “Here’s where I take over” said Hewki. . . .

Expedition Pictures, and my website

When I was in High School, my family lived for a year in Cambridge England. As part of that experience, I attended a British boys' school (it's co-ed now), which sent a small expedition to the Arctic island of Spitzbergen. My parents offered me the opportunity, and I took it.

Recently I scanned the photos from that trip and uploaded them to Picasa. Then I made a web page to show them off.

Here's the link.

Please don't expect to find much on the rest of the site; there are tidbits, but not much. I don't do this professionally, and I'm busy with a lot of other things. But at least the expedition photos are all commented and in good order. I hope you enjoy them.

I hope that one day, I'm able to provide my own children with the same kind of incredible opportunities that my parents gave me.

BTW this post is cross listed at my other blog.

Man v. Raccoon

We had our second visit in two weeks from a raccoon last night (click here to see me in action after the first one). At 3:55 A.M. Hannah and I were jolted awake by a horrific squawking and loud commotion from the hen house. Without thinking, I grabbed my glasses and sprinted to the back yard in my boxers, grabbing a broomstick on the way. Floodlights revealed feathers flying everywhere and a grey and black raccoon dancing with my hens. Hannah was yelling at it from the window as I hurdled through the fence, broomstick first. I halted my progress briefly as I remembered a recent discussion on a urban poultry list about how a guy got bitten and scratched up pretty badly by a 'coon, but then I plunged ahead anyway and took a good whack at it. As it scaled the fence to get out, I hurled the stick at it.

Then it was all jitters and pounding heart as I corralled the thoroughly freaked-out hens back into their coop and checked them over for wounds. No problems this time, but the feather carnage was impressive. I think hens must shed their feathers to distract a predator, and I also think that they have learned to get my attention pretty effectively. Their collective commotion has gotten better over time (this is the fourth or fifth time I've been out for a midnight rescue.) I think I finally fell back asleep for a little while around 5:30.

I thought I had locked them up, but apparantly I forgot. The routine is so repetitive that sometimes it's easy to forget. Once again, I renew my resolve to always make sure they're locked up at night...

Behavior Academy

Today, for the second time in our house, we tried a behavior academy. We got some professional advice on how to increase the compliance of our children, and today we used it with dramatic results.

Yesterday, my dear wife reported trouble with the kids getting through their morning list, and there was general trouble all day long with obedience, right up through bedtime. Today, therefore, we had an academy. The goal was to do morning and night-time lists with no reminders and a good attitude. Lizey pretty much sailed through hers, and she managed to think it was actually kind of fun, but Ian was a different story.

At first he just couldn't believe he was actually required to get into pajamas, put clothes into the hamper, brush teeth, clean up eight things, and report back. There was moaning and wailing, death threats, angry stares, the whole nine yard. I gave him a 5/10 on obedience for the number of reminders I had to give, and 1/10 on attitude. At least he did not actually throw any punches or get physical with me. There was more disbelief and wounded shock when I told him then to start on his morning list, which includes putting away breakfast dishes (yes there were some out), brushing teeth (again), getting dressed, and doing a morning chore. Obedience level was about the same because I had to give a lot of reminders, and attitude improved to 2/10, with an important difference. He started to ask whether he was going to have to do it again, and that was the clincher. Hannah and I explained to him that until we had what we wanted for both obedience and attitude, he was going to have to keep going. Well, the second time through the night-time list was much better, an 8/10 and 5/10 for obedience and attitude. Then he finally got it all figured out, and turned himself around. The last repetition of the morning list scored a 9/10 and 8/10. And then he was free to go back to the computer game that I pulled him from to do the academy.

The great thing about this method, was that it allowed Hannah and me to keep our cool and not get personal. There was a tremendous turnaround in Ian's outlook. He was actually happy at the end of it, and while he did not enjoy the process, I think he feels a lot better afterward.

We finished off the session by explaining that if they enjoyed doing the academy, all they have to do is talk back, disobey, or get distracted in the middle of doing something we asked them to earn another one.

Future academies may include perfecting such tasks as getting dressed and putting away pajamas or the reverse, doing chores, getting into the car, coming in from the car and remembering to bring everything in with them.

Has anybody else tried anything like this? Post a response and share!

Good Clean Fun

Guess who had a good long romp in the dirt today?

Two kinds of Daddy Magic

Tonight, Eliza was having a hard time settling down, so after 40 minutes of poking my head into the room to remind her to lie still and be quiet, I decided it was time for action. I went and very soberly sat next to her.

"Eliza, I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this."

Curious and apprehensive eyes stared back at me.

"I'm going to have to use my Daddy Magic ring. I don't usually like to do this, but it looks like I'm going to have to. It makes your eyes very heavy and your breathing slow down. Be very careful when I put my hand on you, because it's going to make you fall asleep right away."

"OK, Daddy," a little unsure about all this.

I put my hand on her chest. "Feel your eyes closing?"

A nod, yes.

I closed my eyes to concentrate on the Daddy Magic, otherwise known as power of suggestion.

When I opened them 30 seconds later, she was fast asleep.

That's the good kind of Daddy Magic.

Then there was Caroline, who was also having trouble getting to sleep. The Daddy Magic Ring did not work for her. It wore off right away, and when I returned to check on her, there she was in the hallway, drawing on the wall with markers. "Caroline! You should be sleeping, not drawing on the walls."

This kind of Daddy Magic produced instant tears. My first thought was, let the regret and tears teach her a lesson. When I went in talk to her about it, it was a different story, though.

"Daddy, I was drawing a wreath of flowers, so carefully."

"Caroline, why did you draw on the walls? You know you're supposed to draw on the white board, not the walls."

"I don't like it when people leave the marker lids off and color all over the board. That's why I drew on the walls."

"But Caroline, the marker doesn't come off the walls."

"You can just use the pink eraser."

"That doesn't work either."

"You can just wipe it with a sponge."

"That doesn't work either."

"Oh. What can you do? I want Mommy."

"I'll try some alcohol. Now pretend to go to sleep so you can fool her when she comes in."

When Hannah went to go check on her a few minutes after, she was fast asleep.

That's dark Daddy Magic turned light.

Carrot Finger Crunching

And now for a piece of real Daddy Magic: carrot finger crunching, or How to Get Your Kids to Eat More Carrots!

I'm sure I learned this trick when I was seven or eight years old, and on a whim I taught it to my kids tonight at the dinner table. It was an instant hit, and when they started asking for the bag of carrots, I realized that this was a good thing. Enjoy the chaos that is our happy dinner table and see if you can avoid bursting out laughing...

Sweet Music of the Lego Bin.

With my number one child, some days are better than others. Let's just say that today was one of those others, with intense chat sessions on at least five separate occasions and lots of frustrated and bruised feelings all around. It's a cycle that can spiral precipitously downward and is hard to shake out of.

In fact, to shake out of it takes a concerted effort, so when the opportunity arose tonight, I did not pounce at first, but eventually I grabbed it with as much gusto as I could:

I was sitting on the floor next to Caroline to help her get to sleep. Just having a parent in the room can sometimes mean the difference between falling peacefully to sleep in five minutes and requiring repeated trips to the door to put her back in bed and remind her to lie still and quiet. I was getting into my book, when I heard a knock at the door. It was Ian wanting to know if I could help him build a Lego Astros Command Base, and instantly my blood began to rise because I've told him many times not to come in when I'm trying to get Caroline to sleep. (On some occasions this has cost another 30 minutes of settling.) Although no harm was done, I snapped and told him to wait in his room for me. When he, very quietly and tentatively came back in a couple of minutes, I realized that Caroline was long since asleep, and by this time I was just enjoying some quiet time reading my book. My choices were: be right (in my own mind) and put him off longer while reading some more, or get over it and go play Legos.

I don't even know why it's so hard to get down on the floor and play some times, but I know that for Ian, this is his love language, and there's no better way to fill him up than quality time on the floor, speaking his language.

My hesitance was actually a sad commentary on how stodgy I've gotten, because anyone who knew me as a kid knows I was way into Legos. One of the great satisfactions of fatherhood for me was introducing Ian to Legos through my own old sets that had been hiding away at my parents' house for years and years. It didn't take long for the indescribable sound of hands pushing through a drawer full of Lego bricks to brush away years of cobwebs from my youthful spirit. Before long, my inner eight year old was there side by side with my filial eight year old, snapping bricks together, constructing a control tower so that his Mars Mission ships could land safely under heavy Alien attack. Weapon systems galore! Radar towers, swiveling and tilting! Automatic blaster cannons! Incoming missile deactivation shields! I was a little surprised how just the light glinting through certain of the pieces had an emotional memory effect, taking me back to many late night sessions with my old friend Alex Rose... (Any Lego fans out there remember when the clear red pieces started coming out? The red antennas did it for me tonight.)

Anyway, this is not my first time to play with Legos with Ian. But somehow tonight it was special because of the way that he drank it in. As I watched him pace the room, eagerly explaining his pneumatic grenade launcher to me, I felt that he could care less about the conflicts and frustrations of the day because we had our special, secret time together.
So here's to all the dad out there: don't forget to play Legos with your kids! There's still sweet music to hear when you're hunting for the piece you know is there, and your boy's hand is in the bin next to yours.

By the way, I found a collector's site with some old sets I used to have. Click the image to discover the site and enjoy a trip down memory lane. And absolutely visit this site, where some dear soul has scanned copies of the Lego catalogs from 1958 through the present. The space sets from the catalogs of 1981-86 hold a special place in my heart of hearts.

Our Experience of Ike

Like the rest of the country, we have been horrified by the devastation on the Texas coast. And like most Austinites, we have been secretly, guiltily, nursing a grudge against Ike for not giving us any rain. This kind of devastation is pretty mind-blowing, but there is an odd capriciousness to the destruction. In the picture to the right (borrowed from the New York Times), check out the single standing house. How did that happen? Apparently several hundred people weathered the storm on this island, too, and how did that happen? I mean how did they decide to stay and then how did they manage to survive. It's beyond me on a lot of levels.

In any case, Saturday morning, we were watching the news, and they said that the Red Cross was desperate for volunteers to man the shelters. When my dear wife asked whether we should go, a hundred excuses jumped into my mind, but then I realized what an opportunity it was. At my son's suggestion, we donned matching T-shirst and then saddled up onto bikes and trailers and rode over to the volunteer station, which was just under 2 miles away, to see what we could do. We had visions in our heads of working with the kids to stack water bottles or fold blankets. There, instead, we found a long line of people waiting to volunteer: the staff were completely overwhelmed. I sat through about an hour's worth of lines to clear the initial hurdles of registering and submitting to a background check. Then there was another wait for the orientation session and scheduling. Rather than wait two hours for a slot to open up in those, I decided to bike back home with the family and get the kids some shade, water, and lunch, and put Caroline down for a much needed nap. My plan was to go back later and finish the sign-up process after the line had died down a bit.

Well, later, when I biked back over, the line was even longer, and they were giving out tickets for orientation sessions hours later. At that point, sad to say, impatience and the perception that there were way more volunteers than expected trumped my altruistic streak, and I returned home with a vague promise to come back later if I could. It turns out that we ended up going to the library and the grocery store instead.

I don't honestly know whether this was a success or a failure. We did manage to talk to the kids about volunteering, and as far as they're concerned, they pitched in and helped while Daddy went to sign up. I feel pretty good about going as far as I did and having several good conversations with the family about serving others. But the fact is I didn't follow through.

So here's the alternative, and I'm donating right along side you: The Capital Area Food Bank and the Central Texas Red Cross are both desperate for donations now. Click the links with me and pitch in to help some organizations that make a real difference. In the sign up process, I was impressed with a statement posted about part of the Red Cross's mission which is to enable the service of ordinary citizens in helping each other in times of need. That pretty much fits in with our Christian principle of "each one has."

Daddy Fuel

Only the most clueless of my roommates, past or present, have failed to come to the rapid realization that I don't enjoy shopping. For as long as I can remember, that has been the case, and going back as far as high school, people have figured out ways to avoid going with me. It was in 11th grade when my mother began giving me a clothing allowance and telling me to go on my own. Then with my first college roommates, we kept a common refrigerator, and after our second trip to the grocery store together, I was such a pathetic malcontent that they began bribing me to stay home by bringing me lime sherbet (a perennial favorite). My reputation preceded me into my next two living arrangements, where shopping was solitary.

It was not too long after our honeymoon that my wife learned the dark lesson about me and the outlet malls. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I have tested my dear wife's patience to the limit in the last several times that we have had to stop by there. In fact it's gotten almost to the point of no return, and even though I have in the mean time realized that sporting a bad attitude and complaining does not win me any favors and that attempting to show a good face at least lessens the irritation, I can barely breathe without projecting an irritated aura of "how soon can we leave?" Let's just say that my idea of a good time doesn't involve crawling through crowded parking lots dodging shopping carts under a merciless bright hot sun. At least I've learned to suppress the complaining and show a positive attitude for the kids.

All that sets up this afternoon, where after serving with the children at church this morning, we went to lunch with our dear friend Dori, whose pool and dogs were much enjoyed by my children. When Hannah suggested a trip to Ikea afterward, I breathed, I smiled, and I even took some initiative to find out where it was and round up the kids. 'nuff said. It was hot, it was crowded, parking was hard to find, but I stopped; I breathed; I enjoyed watching my youngest play at the wooden train set and following the others on our vary meandering route the display rooms. I think I didn't lose my temper at all, not even a little. When Hannah suggested getting our trip to Costco out of the way, I stopped, I breathed, and I chose to be positive. The parking lot was crowded, the sun was merciless, we dodged shopping carts, but I had a great time pushing my two daughters through the aisles looking for this and that, squeezing the coffee bags so they could smell the fresh roasted beans through the vent hole.

So, on the way home, Hannah and I got our reward. From the back seat, completely unprompted, Eliza says "Hey everyone, three cheers for Mom and Dad for buying us the pink stool. Hip hip, hooray! Hip hip, hooray! Hip hip hooray!" Followed immediately by Ian, "and Mom and Dad, I forgot to say, thanks for making us such a wonderful breakfast this morning!" Makes it all worth it.

Green Toes

First of all, sorry to show off my beautiful feet, but I have to show what Caroline's been up to.

She's obsessed with markers, these days, that sweet Caroline. Today when I came home, there was a quick "Hi Daddy" then an assertive clamp around by ankles with "Don't move!" as she whipped out her green marker and decorated my toes.

I've gotten the special Caroline spa treatment for the last three days, and so have Hannah and Eliza. Ian won't stand for it...

May every day be so sweet, and may I have the Grace to enjoy each one!

A Special Night

Tonight was a landmark night, one that I remember clearly having with my father when I was seven. Tonight I gave Ian his very own Bible. He was very happy about it and immediately dove in, declaring "Dad, I'm going to read the entire book of Genesis by the end of September!" He promptly snuggled into his bean bag chair and started reading, with periodic quizzes about what chapter I thought he was on already. Inevitably, he was farther ahead than I thought. I left him reading chapter 10 about the tower of Babel.

First, though, was the question that I knew had to be coming at some point, but I was so completely not expecting it tonight.

Ian - "Dad, what's 'sexual relations?'"

Me - "Uh, where did you read it?"

Ian - "Cain had sexual relations with his wife." (Gen 4:17) "

Me - "Well there's more to come on this later, but for now let's just say that's how a husband and wife relate to each other, like hugging and kissing, and eventually it's how they have a baby together."

Long pregnant pause...

Me - "Does that make sense to you?"

Ian - "What?"

Me - "What I just explained."

Ian - "Oh. Yeah, that's fine."

No big deal. That was that. Nothing to be scared of...

Anyway, I've just gone to check in on him and tell him to turn out the lights and go to sleep. He's read through chapter 12, and wants to try to finish Genesis tonight (50 chapters in all, folks). How can I forbid that? May he continue to have this enthusiasm all of his days!

Real Men teach their daughters plumbing repair skills!

One of the nicest Daddy Magic moments is working on a fix-it project with a little helper. After a very fun father-daughter date to Lowe's today to pick up a new faucet to replace our drippy one in the bathroom, I got involved in something else, I forget what, and returned to the bathroom to find Eliza already unpacking the supplies and ready for action. It's Daddy Magic that turns a little princess:

Into a Jr. Plumber. This is what my dad would call "some serious Q-time."

It's Tae Kwon Do Time!

We've been waiting for a long time, and it's finally here: Olympic Tae Kwon Do is available online. Last fall, we started Ian in classes at a local Tae Kwon Do school. The structure, the challenge, the exercise, and the character training have all bee very good for him. Check him out at his first belt test.  His instructor, Cathy Chapaty, has a special place in her heart for attention challenged kids and has taken a special interest in Ian. I had never seen Ian so proud as he was after that first test. Even the video rocks: catch the wink!

Most recently there was the orange belt test. He broke his board on the first try after overcoming some major heebie-jeebies.

I have tried to encourage him as much as possible in this pursuit, since it has been so good for him. In fact, his instructor offered to give me and another dad private lessons in exchange for substitute teaching in the fall semester. To me, this was a no-brainer. I've always had a repressed desire to learn a martial art, and rather than just live it vicariously through my son, I can jump in and join him in it.

Last Monday was my first class, and I'm sore from the workout, but excited about the new connection that I'm building with my son. Our hope is that this will be another consistent and positive way to have fun and grow together.

Intro to Daddy Magic

Welcome to Daddy Magic! I've realized that I have things to blog about that don't quite fit into the feel of Chubby GrumGrum, so I started a new blog to share experiences, advice, etc. about the adventures of fatherhood to three wonderful, smart, spirited children. Many times I've excused myself from writing because my topic didn't fit. No More!

I'll start with a little window into evening times, because I've realized a little window has opened, and I don't know how long the opening will last. In the last few months I've been struggling to keep things positive with my oldest, so I've been searching for opportunities to make deposits and spend one-on-one time with him. Although I don't remember the details, there was some crisis that we had that made me sort of desperate to make a change, so I decided to start reading a chapter of the Bible with him at night. Surprise of all surprises, he really took to it, and we have read 14 chapters so far from the Gospel of Mark. We take turns reading short sections out loud to each other. At the end, if there is an opportunity, I may open a short discussion with him, but I really try hard not to push this because I know it could be a turn off. Although we haven't read together ever night, I've never yet had any resistance to Bible reading together. I'll treasure and take advantage of the opportunity as long as I can.

Then if there's time, we've also been reading from The Lantern Bearers, by Rosemary Sutcliff. It's a historical fiction set in the years immediately following the Roman withdrawal from Britain. Aquila, the protagonist, starts the story as an officer in one of the Roman auxilliary legions, but he deserts and chooses to stay behind when the Romans depart. The story unfolds as he becomes wrapped up in the struggle between the largely Christian Britons who remain and the Saxon newcomers, including the complex dynamics between Vortigern and Hengest. Once again, I'm enjoying Sutcliff's rich historical background and colorful, quiet descriptions of people and landscapes.