Showing posts with label parents. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parents. Show all posts

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Here, Girl!

OK, this was the post that I originally had up a few weeks ago, then took down when my medical drama, and then my father's death, intervened.  Things have finally returned to normal (or at least, normal enough), so we can now return to our regularly-scheduled programming (and Bijoux can have her comment back). . .


I was having a conversation with another blogger recently, and this story, which I originally posted almost five years ago, came to mind.  So I decided to re-post it for your edification and enjoyment. . .


-------------------------

All new parents go through a kind of 'break-in' period, during which they slowly figure out the real ways in which being parents is different from how they were before. For Jen and me, this lasted quite a while - even past 1F's first birthday, we were still discovering unanticipated ways in which our lives would never be the same.

Once, the three of us went out to dinner at a restaurant which the childless Jen and me would have counted very 'family friendly', and in fairness, it probably was, as long as none of the children were younger than five or so. 1F was about a year old on the evening in question, though, and by the time we finished our dinner, there was a circle about five feet in diameter, centered on 1F's high chair, littered with an assortment of food fragments, torn napkins, pieces of silverware, and other miscellaneous items. I left a very large tip, and we realized that taking 1F to a 'nice' restaurant with us was not going to be a live option for a while.

I've always been a bit of a gadget buff, but I really like gadgets that have a certain simplicity about them, and Kid-world is rife with elegantly simple, practical gadgets. When 1F was a baby, the little seats that you can sort of hang off the edge of the table were new, and we got one of those right away. Suddenly, we could eat at friends' houses, or church potlucks, or at a picnic table in a park, without having to pack a full-blown high chair with us. A very cool, simple contraption.

Around the same time, we met a couple who were visiting from Germany, whose daughter was just a bit older than 1F. They had a little leather harness that they put on their daughter when they took her to a crowded public place; they would clip a short tether to the harness, and they could keep the child close to them, without all the bad posture that goes along with holding her hand, to say nothing of the struggles that invariably occur when the child in question decides that she doesn't want to have her hand held anymore.

I loved it - so elegant, so simple, so practical. And all the moreso, because the child actually had a lot more freedom of movement - a lot more freedom to go where she wanted to, within a much larger radius, than she would if her hand were being held. We were so taken by this little item that we asked our German friends to send us one, since they hadn't appeared in the US market yet.

A few weeks later, we received a package in the mail from a German address. We opened it eagerly, and put it to use at our first opportunity. It worked really well, and we were pleased - 1F could roam about more freely, engage her curiosity more freely, and we hardly had to exert any effort to keep track of her. In fact, we were so taken with it that we decided to make a modest improvement - in place of the short tether, we used a 25-foot retractable leash, so 1F could have even more freedom of movement.

The Fourth of July was coming up soon, and the harness setup seemed perfect for such an occasion - a large crowd in an open public place. 1F could wander to her heart's content within a 25-foot radius, and, as long as we kept hold of the leash, Jen and I didn't need to worry about where she was.

Our first inkling that this would work out just a bit less than perfectly came as we walked into the park. We were walking alongside another young family like us, with the toddler being carried on his father's shoulders. They were looking intently at the harness/leash setup we had 1F in. I smiled, knowing that they were appreciating the ingenuity, the elegance, the simplicity, the practicality of it, and preparing to tell them how we had friends in Germany, and this was all the rage among European parents, and how they could get one for themselves. Instead, the dad sort of sneered and said, "Kind of a sick joke, man."

What?!? Sick joke? What the heck does he mean by that? Ah, well; obviously a philistine who doesn't appreciate ingenious gadgets when he sees them. We found a spot suitable to our liking at which to settle, and we spread our blanket. Jen and I sat down on the blanket, while 1F wandered around on the end of the leash. When she reached the limit, she would just turn around, and poke around in a different direction, checking for bugs in the grass, or whatever else captured her eye. We were enjoying ourselves immensely, just watching her exploring her expansive little piece of turf.

While we were sitting there, a woman approached us to talk. I smiled in friendly greeting, but 'friendly' wasn't her own personal orientation at that particular moment.  Rather, she immediately ripped into us. "How could you?!" she shrieked.

What the hell?  I looked at her in utter bewilderment.

"Treating your child like an animal!"

No, wait, you don't understand - see, she's so much more free to roam about. . .

But the woman would have none of it. See, this was a leash, and leashes are for dogs, and that was that. At the very best, in her mind, this was an inappropriate transfer of technology; at worst, it was slam-dunk evidence of depraved child abuse. And nothing I could say would dissuade her.

Before the night was over, and all the fireworks had flashed, two or three other folks wandered by to very helpfully yell at us and call us colorful names.

We were more circumspect about taking the harness out in public after that, and we eventually decided that the elegance, simplicity, and practicality didn't quite outweigh the grief we had to endure from well-meaning idiots fellow-citizens.

So you see, a thing can be wonderfully practical, elegantly designed, and a vast improvement on the existing technology. But, if you don't take account of public reaction, you can still wind up with a marketplace failure. . .

-------------------------

Back here in the present (OK, the near-past), I rode my bike 35 miles yesterday, in glorious fall weather - around 60 degress, with brilliant blue skies and a few puffy white clouds; it's just a bit too early for the fall colors, or it would've been perfect.  Yesterday's miles make a total of 1053 for the year, my 5th consecutive year over 1000 miles.  I've got two months or so left in the season, so I'm on pace for around 1300-1400.  Life is good. . .

And, hey, while I'm thinking of it, my Tigers are American League Central Division champions!  Playoff bound!  (Maybe even against Suldog's Red Sawx!)  I'm sure I'll have some manner of elegiac post at the end of the season, but for now, you'll all share my joy, won't you?

-------------------------

I just put up a sidebar link to 2F's blog; if you want to get an independent, inside perspective on what life in our family is REALLY like. . . (not like anyone's inheritance is riding on the outcome, or anything. . .)

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

A Midsummer's Miscellany

So, did somebody at NASA, or someplace, decide that it was just too crass to pronounce 'Uranus' as 'Yer-Anus' (which did, after all, make for a whole line of, um, 'earthy' humor)? OK, I suppose maybe I can sorta see their point, kinda; but did they really think that pronouncing it as 'Urine-Us' was a major improvement? Just, you know, wondering. . . ------------------------- I don't know what it's like where any of the rest of y'all are at, but around here, the corn on the 4th of July is more like 'me-high' than 'knee-high'. Seriously, when I go out riding my bike among the cornfields around Our Town, it's at least as tall as I am. . . ------------------------- Spent the holiday weekend visiting my parents, and it was a really good time. Dad is doing well, but it's good for him to have visitors from time to time. We spent some time working on some new information we've recently gotten on the family tree, and he gave me copies of some wonderful old photos that I'd lost track of. I had probably the best visit with my mom since she's been in the nursing home. Several times, in response to some little bit of humor, from me or one of the others (I went with my brother, his wife, and their two daughters), Mom just burst out laughing. At the appropriate time, and everything; like she understood and got the joke. Even though it wasn't apparent that she even knew who I was. . . ------------------------- Yesterday, we spent the day clearing out the debris from the maple limb that fell in our yard a couple weeks ago. And I do mean we spent the DAY. And it was a really, really HOT day, pushing 100F if it didn't actually quite get there. Jen and I and the younger kids, along with Pat and John, a couple of teenaged neighbor kids, spent the morning trimming and binding up all the 'small' branches (ie, the ones with leaves on the ends of them), using an assortment of nippers and loppers and hand saws and axes (the teen boys - and 7M, who's 12 - really liked swinging the ax) (so yes - ax-swinging lessons were given). In the afternoon, 4M and 5M came out, and our other neighbor Jim came over with his chainsaw, and we cut and carried away the big stuff. I wish my digital camera were working better; the photo-sequence from beginning to end would be pretty striking. In the morning, it was like we were working in a jungle - we could barely see each other's heads through the dense foliage. By dinnertime, we pretty much had our yard back. And all it cost me was a new chain for Jim's saw, and a six-pack of beer for us to share. And we all slept really well. . .

Monday, June 7, 2010

A Parents' Prayer

This prayer was sent home to us from our kids’ school. It struck me as really solid, and really wise, and it resonates with my own paternal heart (if not quite always with my paternal actions; so it can help inspire me to do better, right?). So, I offer it for the edification of my friends. . . ------------------------- Most loving Father, our example of parenthood, you have entrusted our children to us to bring them up for you, and prepare them for everlasting life. Assist us with your grace, that we may fulfill this sacred duty with competence and love. Teach us what to give and what to withhold. Show us when to reprove, when to praise, and when to be silent. Make us gentle and considerate, yet firm and watchful. Keep us from weakness of indulgence and excess of severity. Give us courage to be disliked sometimes by our children, when we must do necessary things, which are displeasing in their eyes. Give us the imagination to enter their world in order to understand and guide them. Grant us all the virtues we need, to lead them by work and example in the ways of wisdom and piety. One day, with them, may we enter into the joys of our true and lasting home with you in Heaven. Amen.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Swaying In the Breeze. . .

A while back (quite a while by now), Suldog posted some photos, including one of his teenaged self indulging in a bit of public drunkenness, under the watchful eyes of his parents. Which reminded me all too well of my own experience of First Drunkenness (this post originated as a comment I left on that post of Suldog’s; but it’s a good story, so you’d be very kind to indulge my telling it again here). . .

And I suppose I'll find out which of my kids, or VMJ's (AKA GF2, altho at the time of this story, she was still VMS), ever come around here, looking for stories from my dissolute youth. . .

-------------------------

I was 18, and a newly-legal consumer of alcoholic beverages, when VMS's parents took us out to dinner in Greektown (Chicago) - the waiters in skirts, the flaming cheese, "OPAA!", the whole bit. (Does it fill you with a sense of foreboding that setting the scene for my First Drunkenness involves my girlfriend's parents? Read on. . .)

They ordered a bottle of a Greek 'blush' wine called Roditys. And me being newly-legal at the time, I had a glass. And hey, it was pretty good! (Nothing at all like the Boone’s Farm that I’d snitched from my dad once upon a time.) So I had another. They ordered a second bottle, and so I had yet another glass. 'Cuz hey, it was pretty good!

After a while, I noticed that the room wasn't quite sitting still the way it was supposed to, anymore, and when one of the waiters lit the flaming cheese for another customer across the room, my "OPAA!" was louder than anyone else's at our table. So I foggily deduced that I was a sheet or two further to the wind than was best for me to be, being out to dinner with my girlfriend and her parents, and all.

So, figuring that the next thing that came out of my mouth would probably be stupid (which, looking back on it, is pretty darned self-aware for a first-time-drunk 18-year-old), I just shut up (sorta like the guy who leaves the bar at 3AM and figures he’ll escape the attention of the police by driving 12 mph all the way home) (not that I've ever done that, or anything). So I sat there, looking shitfaced, swaying gently in the breeze, saying nothing. I vaguely recall her mother leaning over to her father, saying (in her more-than-slight New Jersey accent), "I tell ya, Manny, he's drunk; we gotta get him outta here."

(*sigh*)

Maybe that has something to do with why they never became my in-laws. . .