Daddy Magic

Sonar Jamming Tiger Moths

2009-07-31T08:39:00.000-07:00

I just found out the neatest thing about moths and bats. Bats, we all know, use sonar to detect their dinner in-flight, in much the same way that submarines detect target ships or airport radars detect incoming planes.

What's super nifty in this article I just read in Science is that several kinds of moths use countermeasures to jam the bats' sonar signals. How cool is that? Who knew that there was this whole sonar battle going on over our heads in the dusky skies? It's a neat little piece of natural technology. (Thanks to Britannica for the image.)

The Way of the Toddler Calmer (II)

2009-06-26T12:10:00.000-07:00

Last night I used another trick for calming an over-tired toddler. In this case the dear beloved over-tired 3 yr old in question was fixated on asking Mommy about a party blower that her cousins had.

After dimming the room and reading a few stories, I told her that I would go get Mommy to hear her question, but only after she went and lay down in her bean bag with her eyes closed until I counted to 60.

"one, two, three, four, ... fifty-four, 'ifty-five, 'fty-six, 'fty-seven, 'ty-eight, 'ty-niiiiine, thirty, thirty-one, ..." and so on in an ever softer voice, until I heard her breathing change and the question was safely deferred until morning.

The Way of the Toddler Calmer

2009-06-15T18:49:00.001-07:00

Over the course of the last seven years or so, there has from time to time been one cranky toddler or another in the Diller house who was too tired to get to sleep. Most parents will know exactly what I'm talking about: a condition known variously as "over tired", "T.R.S.", "frantically tired", etc.

My early attempts at dealing with this condition were typical testosterone-soaked white-belt attempts to be tougher than the toddler, not to be manipulated, to meet strength with strength, and so forth. The predictable outcome was usually to emerge frazzled after far too long when said child finally exhausted his or herself to sleep.

Behold, after seven years training by the 3 year old masters themselves, the black-belt way: redirect and seduce.

The "I want Mommy, I want Mommy, I want Mommy" or "I wanted two pieces of cheese, I wanted two pieces of cheese..." or fill in the blank with some other demand, is actually excess of energy that needs to be redirected. The most effective method is to startle the wailing one into laughter. Witness Caroline tonight, who was crying for Mommy to stay, but Mommy was unwilling to stay after repeated violations of under-the-shirt personal space. Nothing at all against Mommy, who has very lovingly tucked and kissed and prayed and sung, but a change of character is called for (This could just as easily be Mommy switching out for Daddy). Enter Daddy, who bends down and repeatedly asks, "What? I can't hear you through all the wailing. It sounds like someone is saying I want to play in hay!"

"No Daddy" sniff! sniff! "I want Mommy to stay." Resume wailing.

"I thought you were saying you wanted to play in the hay."

Silence. "What?"

Now the moment is right. I have her attention. Time for the bait and switch.

"I thought you said you wanted to play in the hay. Does your back still itch like you were telling me earlier?"

"No" sniff sniff!

"Because I was thinking wouldn't it be funny if you got one of our chickens to climb on your back and scratch it for you?"

This silly and not actually very funny proposition provides the miniscule excuse necessary, and out comes a flood of over-energetic laughing. If you've heard it, you know it. It's too loud and it's too hard, but the release is palpable. She was just looking for an excuse to laugh, which has a lot of the same energy as crying, but it makes you feel a whole lot better.

I watch her body relax. I see the tears start to dry. I hear the shaky breaths start to even out.

Now it's time to switch into relaxation mode. The tension has been released, she's ready to be seduced into closing her eyes and sleeping. We play the make-pancakes game on her tummy. All of the ingredients are poured out and mixed up with Daddy fingers on the soft tummy. The pancakes are poured out in spirals. The loooong wait for the bubbles to form before we can flip them. The eyes closed better to imagine the smell. Anything she wants can go into those pancakes, usually chocolate chips and pecans. After a lip-smacking taste, she lies back and is asleep within a couple breaths more.

Isn't that better than cry-it-out?

Sweet Music of the Lawn Mower

2009-06-13T08:03:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it takes a special event to snap out of a long blogging hiatus. Well, today was something of a landmark in the only father-son relationship in our house. I was out mowing when Ian came up to me. Whether or not he was in fact prompted by his mother I neither know nor care because some of my favorite words came out of his mouth, "Hey Dad, need any help?"

"Sure can you fetch me the gas can?"

It was high on a shelf, and I almost went to go help him, but then he came beaming around the corner, gas can in hand, and I thought, "Onward and upward, today." I had just asked him whether he wanted to push the mower, and he had just said yes, when there was a quick interruption. My dear wife is a little squeamish about these things and needed me to come in and help Eliza, who this morning was suffering a freak stomach bug complete with shakes and vomiting.

Porcelain intimacies all complete, I came back out to find Ian waiting faithfully next to the mower. (Unheard of, if you don't know him.) Before long, he was happily running the mower back and forth across the grass.

So for today's mowing, the new responsibility and the joy of eating up the long grass was its own reward. Look at the smile.

What a joy to watch him pitch in with such enthusiasm. It won't be too long, I'm sure, before we start to pay him for lawn mowing, but today was special. He's also learning a skill that can earn him his own real money. Adventures to come...

Thunderstorm

2009-03-27T07:49:00.000-07:00

There is a beautiful Texas thunderstorm over Austin right now, and I would like nothing more than to be sitting on a front porch in a rocking chair watching it, listening to the thunder and the rain drops.

Busted!

2009-03-26T09:44:00.000-07:00

Random side note before I get started: How many blog posts are titled "Busted!"?

Background: This morning during the breakfast routine, 3-year old Caroline was reaching for a box containing fresh bottles of food coloring. Given her history, I made a command decision to head off disaster and said, "Caroline, put those back please, if you touch them, you'll get color stains all over your pajamas."

Later: I'm in the bathroom brushing teeth and chatting with Hannah when Caroline appears at the door, very sober expression on her face. "What will happen if I touch what, now?" I had already forgotten the incident from earlier, and I squatted down to ask her to repeat the question. "What will happen if I touch them, now?" "Touch what, Sweetie?" "The food colors." "Oh, the food coloring bottles. You'll get color stains on your pajamas." With deadly earnest and not a hint of a smile: "I touched them." There were no (new) color stains on her pajamas.

Silence reigned in the room as I absorbed this. Hannah started to shake, stifling a laugh. "Busted," she whispered.

Moral: While backpedaling to rephrase my warning and admonition, I realized that kids listen, whether or not they acknowledge, and when it's to their advantage, they will hold you to your words. (See this post for another recent example from the same child.) To all the Daddies out there: be careful!

Blah!

2009-02-25T15:20:00.000-08:00

For the last four days, I've been dealing with a terrible bout of flu/cold/something terrible. I never really spiked a big fever, but I did get achy all over. There were times when I could only lie in bed and moan. My wife has been such a big stud to manage everything and help nurse me through it.
I feel like today might be the final stage of the illness. Everything migrated to my head, and I've had a scratchy throat/nose/ears all day. It's been painful to swallow. I tried to take a nap without much success. One thing has helped a lot: sinus rinsing. A few years ago I bought a neti-pot and started using it periodically. It helps a lot for preventing hay fever after I work in the yard. Particularly in situations like today, too, it can make a big different. Not only did I get a huge bunch of junk out of my nose and sinuses (I'll spare details) but also the salt water calmed the back of my throat to make swallowing less painful.

Rank Exam

2009-02-14T19:56:00.000-08:00

Today I passed my second rank exam in TaeKwonDo with Ian. We both spent three hours proving that we are worthy to wear the next color in line, orange for me and green for Ian. I'll post photos when I get them, but with wife out of town and camera in for repair, I was lucky to have a brother in law snapping a few photos at the beginning, and the photos are not voluminous in number.
Few things make a father so proud as seeing his son face a tough challenge and master it. I saw that in Ian today. This morning he woke up with the vestiges of a viral infection that left him aching all over, particularly in the legs. With minimal (for him) grousing, he got himself up and going and to the test. He probably could have convinced me to ask for a reschedule but he didn't.
The rank exam consisted of five components: techniques, forms, self defense, sparring, and breaking. The techniques (outer knife-hand block, e.g.) were not a big problem, nor were the forms (the martial arts version of a dance routine, only using the aforementioned techniques).
Self-defense and sparring were a different story, however. For the self-defense portion, we made a line of all eleven of the students testing and took turns being attacked. Based on rank we had to demonstrate defense against various levels of attack. At the orange belt level, Ian had to demonstrate how to get out of single and double handed wrist-grabs, and single and double handed lapel grabs. Although at his level, some of the counter-strikes use pulled punches, several of his techniques require him to get his attacker to "tap out," where he inflicts enough pain to make the attacker tap his leg, the martial arts equivalent of crying "uncle." For a little guy up against an adult, this is physically and emotionally draining.
Sparring, too, was a big challenge. In sparring, you are expected to show control and avoidance with those of lower rank, dominance of those of equal rank, and demonstrate your best techniques and combinations against those of higher rank. That means that Ian had to spar for four rounds of three minutes, once against a yellow belt, once against another orange belt, and two rounds against the black belts. By the end of his third round, he was wiped out and frustrated by his inability to land kicks on his instructor (3rd-degree black belt) and still had to face Oki, the 4th-degree black belt, who is the master of dodging kicks. I watched him fight back tears of exhaustion and frustration, pull himself together, and give it his best shot, which was not that bad. I managed to land only one or two kicks on Oki myself, which was considered to be a major accomplishment. He is fiendishly difficult to keep in range.
Finally, board breaking, which has never been a problem for Ian, was not a problem. He placed a perfectly aimed side kick right into the middle of his board and broke it on the first try. (I had to use the same technique on a much bigger board and finally broke it on my third try. The psychology of board breaking is pretty intense.)
Sweaty and exhausted, we earned our promotions. In the school tradition, the senior ranking student gets to chose the venue for the celebratory post-exam lunch. Today, the senior student was unable to attend, so the choice fell to Ian, who chose Waterloo Ice House, where the burgers are wonderful and they serve tater-tots or french fries.
What a great day!
Now, I'm tired, my body is sore, and I'm going to sleep.
Thanks for reading.

Clerisy

2009-02-14T19:11:00.000-08:00

I love coming across new words while reading books, and occasionally, I find one that I really like. This time it came from John Stilgoe's Outside Lies Magic: Regaining History and Awareness in Everyday Places.

clerisy |ˈklerəsē|
noun [usu. treated as pl. ]
a distinct class of learned or literary people : the clerisy are those who read for pleasure.
ORIGIN early 19th cent.: apparently influenced by German Klerisei, based on Greek klēros ‘heritage’ (see cleric ).

Stilgoe was using it to explain why main street shops need not feel threatened by Wal-Mart and shopping malls. I could take the time to explain, but really you should read the book. It's not long, and it's quit interesting.
In any case, the word feels right to me. My nightly routine includes the better part of an hour of reading with my kids and I'm always in the middle of several books. Book lovers of the world (global clerisy) unite!

Lizard Warriors

2009-02-09T12:33:00.000-08:00

More shameless bragging. This piece is actually several months old and has been sitting on my desk for a while, waiting for me to scan and post it. Ian was playing with perspective and shadows when he drew this. Notice how the warriors' shadows bend at the wall and how there are objects behind the wall in the distance.

Ft. Zindernufe

2009-02-09T12:25:00.001-08:00

I present for your admiration and enjoyment a recent work of Ian's. Zindernufe is the name of the club he has formed with his best friend next door, who is his co-ruler. If only they had some subjects and some good enemies to fight.

This is shameless bragging, I know, but I'm proud of him, and I think he's good at this kind of thing. More to come soon.

The Football

2009-02-08T19:57:00.000-08:00

I have to share another Daddy Magic Moment.

Yesterday, Ian had his brain sucked out by an hour and a half stint at computer games. (We recently took away his computer time during the week in exchange for longer times on the weekend to help him with motivation in home school.) Not surprisingly, he was drained of motivation, bored, and not very fun to be around.

Hannah was out having some away time, Lizey was napping, and Caroline was in quiet time, listening to a story CD. I suggested shooting Ian's bow and arrows with him. Nope, didn't want to do that. Read a book together? Nope. Play a board game? Nope. Finally, I took him outside and began to throw a Nerf football at him. "I can't catch," he said as he watched the ball soar through the air and hit him in the chest. "See?" He hadn't even moved his arms to try. After repeating this performance a few times, I saw this wasn't working and that we needed a change in tactic.

"I bet you can't pin me." I ran up and tackled him and promptly rolled until he was on top of me. He put his knees on my shoulders, and I made a great show of not being able to get out from under him. I "tried" all sorts to tricks to escape, all to no avail. Eventually, he started to smile, and we kept it up for a while. He especially seemed to enjoy pushing my face in the grace and watching me overreact to having grass blades go up my nose.

Finally, I got out from under him and said "Let's try again." I tossed him the ball, and he caught it. He hurled it back to me. Standing 4 feet away to ensure success, I tossed it to him again. He threw it back. Up to this point, he really hasn't been that good with a football, and lack of confidence has been a main contributor. We took baby steps. I congratulated him each time he broke a record for number of catches in a row. Finally, when he got to 15, we stopped counting, and before I knew it, we were throwing back and forth clear across the yard together. We ended up playing catch for almost 2 hours.

I think sometimes gross-motor engagement is vital for connecting with boys. I've heard somewhere that playing catch is one of the best ways for fathers and sons to connect. I've never been too big a fan of ball sports, but after seeing the magic it worked today, I'm changing my mind.

The Ultimatum

2009-02-08T19:27:00.000-08:00

How's this for a Daddy Magic Moment?

The Backstory: We have shared our bed in one way or another with our kids since we first had them. I have many fond memories of snuggling up to our babies when they were newborns and being very comforted by the sounds of their breathing. We have enjoyed not having to hike out to another room when the baby monitor squawks. I have fond pleasant memories of fragrant warm baby bodies lying peaceful and still between Hannah and me. Later, as each has grown up, we have graduated them to sleeping in their own room. ~~Frequently~~ Inevitably, however, we seem to end up with one or more visitors in the morning. This has not been too much of a problem until recently, when a developments with a certain son of mine have soured the experience.

You see, everyone but me in my family suffers from a bizarre phenomenon relating to body temperature. My dear wife, I noticed not long after marrying her, can actually make her feet get colder than the ambient air temperature, summer or (especially) winter. She has passed this skill on to our children, and the oldest has discovered that his Daddy's tummy is a nice warm place to out his feet.

Well, nice warm Daddy can only take so much of this before it becomes a problem. Things came to a head last week when I was awoken by cold feet at 3:00 in the morning and couldn't get back to sleep. I began to be very grumpy, and I threatened outright banishment if another incident should occur.

Are you surprised to hear that another incident did occur? No, reader, I imagine you are not. Did I have a very stern talk (yea even too stern) with my guilty son? Was I full of righteous indignation? Yes, I did, and yes, I was. It is after all my bed, and I should have dominion over it. Therefore, the matter was simple: no more getting into Daddy's bed. From now on he will go to sleep in his own room and stay there. Case closed. No buts. Go to sleep.

Well, if you know my son at all, you know that he is a negotiator and is very persistent. In the present case, his persistent negotiation was only making me angry. The conversation was going downward, fast. I was about to employ a nuclear "That's final" and walk out of the room when he issued his ultimatum. I had stood up to leave when he hurled his feet against the door, slamming it shut. His eyes were blazing as he said, "No! You can't leave my room until we've come up with a solution we're both happy with!"

(Deep breath.)

You see, he really doesn't like to be alone at night. (Can I blame him really?) And I really don't like to have squirmy cold feet put on my tum. He suggested sleeping on a pallet on the floor in my room. Who am I to squelch such negotiating skills? And we could both be happy with that.

The Diller Family Garden

2009-01-25T15:57:00.000-08:00

Back in the fall, Hannah and I rounded up the kids and planted a vegetable garden. This time I was determined to keep squirrels, chickens, coons, kids with shovels, etc. at bay and MAKE IT HAPPEN. Thrice weekly doses of water from the rain barrels, diligent weeding, and a careful eye have resulted in a full and productive garden. From left to right in the photo are mixed lettuces, beets, three rows of broccoli, and two more rows of beets.

What's most exciting is that finally the broccoli plants have all flowered, and we are not far from having garden broccoli on the table. The plant on the right in the photo below is about half the size of a head of broccoli you might find in the store, and it is growing daily.

Off to the right of the top photo is a raised bed were there is Swiss Chard and more lettuce.

There's really nothing quite so gratifying as putting effort into a garden and then eating from it at the table. I've had a lot of fun watering and weeding it with the kids, and of course their favorite time is planting time, when they like to go crazy with the seeds. I usually give them a row to do on their own. In this garden, it was the lettuce row, and although it is massively overcrowded in spite of much thinning, they have ownership and at least one is slowly but surely getting a green thumb

Biking Date!

2009-01-24T20:14:00.000-08:00

My parents kept the kids overnight last night, so Hannah and I got to stay up late watching movies, sleep in this morning, and then go for a bike ride together! Look at us!

Inauguration

2009-01-21T08:15:00.000-08:00

I have to offer my own little contributions to the flood of inauguration posting...

First of all, there is a very cool photo at CNN (click here) of the national mall during the inauguration event. It's interesting to see how the lines of sight to the Jumbotrons shape the crowds. Here's what it looks like without the crowds.

Next, I'd like to point out an opinion piece in the New York Times (click here, it's a free sign-up to view) which says a lot about the character of President Bush. The short story is that Mr. Bush's transition of power has shown a level of grace and dignity that has been unprecedented in recent history. He has been cooperative, gracious, and accommodating, in rather stark contrast to other recent transitions. He has done some work with the Congress to set the stage for Mr. Obama, and has kept his last-minute executive orders few and very open. (Contrast that with Clinton.) Transitions have been notoriously tricky for those involved: even the transition from Reagan to Bush Sr. was uncomfortable and awkward. Although he is unpopular and incompetent in the eyes of many, you cannot doubt his character and integrity. He has shown a lot of class during the last two months. Read the article for details.

Finally, and I'm saying this without any hyperventilating, it was really cool to be in the lobby of the Mechanical Engineering building with at least 100 other students, staff, and faculty during the ceremony. I noticed several heads bow during Rick Warren's prayer. We all shared a good laugh during the swearing in, and I never saw a room clear so fast as when the national poet stepped on the stage...

2008-12-24T19:22:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-18T12:47:00.001-08:00

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

2008-11-28T07:50:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-27T18:57:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-13T09:52:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-01T13:47:00.000-07:00

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

2008-10-11T16:33:00.001-07:00

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

Two kinds of Daddy Magic

2008-10-01T21:21:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-22T20:15:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-09-21T20:06:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-16T20:37:00.000-07:00

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

2008-09-07T17:08:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-25T19:51:00.000-07:00

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

2008-08-24T19:17:00.001-07:00

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!

2008-08-23T21:36:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-08-20T20:41:00.001-07:00

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

2008-08-19T07:53:00.001-07:00

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.