3/6/14 - "Potpourri"
Blogger's Note: I really have just four words that could comprise this week's feature: 'Dear Winter, Fuck You.' But, I suppose I'll get a little deeper than that.
I was complaining about this weather to Joanna yesterday. She always points out that I'm whining. "In Poland, it gets colder than this. We don't complain!" To which I respond, "Yeah, but it's that way every year. You have winter activities you can do like skiing, snowboarding, and ice skating. We're not used to this crazy ass weather!"
I am a Summer person. You couldn't chain me inside when the weather is nice. I go walking, hiking, bike riding, swimming. I don't even mind mowing the yard. But last Summer was so wet and this Winter is so cold that I just feel depressed. I need to get my nature on.
Ok, ok. I'm done ranting.
I was a little disappointed in the viewership for last week's "Alanaka: Episode II - An Adventure Begins". I've had worse traffic in other posts, but I was really banking on a good turn out for this one. I'll tell you why. Alanaka is a serial. If I don't get people on board with her now, they sure as hell won't be picking her up in the middle of the story. So, I'm going to be pushing her on you for the next couple of weeks. Unlike the "How We Met" story, Alanaka uses this very blog as a "guide" to accompany her on adventures. I have very big plans for her. Plans that I don't want to ruin by giving away anything. Just trust me when I say that while I love the comic relief that these kids bring to me, this story is about to get a little more intense. I need you to be patient for the first couple of episodes while I set up this strange, new world in as believable a way as I am capable.
I'm also going to make navigating my multi-segmented stories a little easier. My sister, Amanda, suggested this idea. By the time you read the next feature, I will have added links to the bottom of each chapter or episode in both my "How We Met" stories and the Alanaka episodes. That way, you'll be able to get from chapter-to-chapter more easily. With Alanaka, this method is a little more difficult though. As I said, she uses the ongoing blog as entertaining reading material in the far-distant future. To get the most out of each story, one would have to be a regular reader of Parenting with Lightsabers. But, you could probably still get the gist in-story.
I was talking to some friends not long ago about my blog. I was wondering if I had lost my way. I mean, what is this blog about anyway? The only common denominator I can find is, well, me. Amber said, of course it's about you. She made the point that even if I was writing a blog about vacuum cleaners then it would be my view on vacuum cleaners. Anything I write, will, in an essence, be about me.
So what is Parenting with Lightsabers? I mean, it seems like I rarely even write about my kids anymore. I have Flashback episodes, mine and Joanna's "How We Met" story, something random, and, now, some futuristic gibberish about some girl named Alanaka. Jeremy said 'don't worry about it. Write whatever you feel like writing.' He said that when you're fishing, it's ok to let the line go out a ways to see what happens. Eventually, you'll reel it back in.
So, I've got a little comfort that maybe I'm not as far out there as I thought I was. On what made me the parent that I am, I have to know where I have been (as in the 'How We Met' story or the Flashback episodes). I have to know where I am (as in the random 'What's Going On Now' features). And I like to imagine where I'm going. Alanaka is the with Lightsabers part of Parenting with Lightsabers. She is the part that I have fun with. Stringing together the Past, the Present, and the Future, my blog is complete. This is Parenting with Lightsabers.
To be honest, I preferred a three week rotation. But, I was sooo itching to write Alanaka. Not to mention, the "How We Met" stories will end at Chapter 16. Then, I can go back to my nice, little three week rotation. But, if I'm going to continue on the path I'm paving in the future, then you're going to have to jump on board... NOW!!! If you haven't already, then please check out Alanaka's story. It's here. From there, navigate to Episode II, and you'll be caught up!
Now... It's time to reel in that line a little...
Listening to: The Avett Brothers "The Ballad of Love and Hate"
The big news this week is that March 2nd was DJ's 18th birthday. My son is an adult. I know how often it gets said, but doesn't time just fly by so fast?? I remember when I lived in my little cabin in Lake City. I'd be laying on my belly playing Donkey Kong Country on Super Nintendo. DJ would beg me to play it, because he liked to watch. He'd get mad if I would suggest that he play. He'd get too frustrated if there was a part that he couldn't get past. Then, one day, he took the controller. And he wouldn't give it back. He became the expert.
Then, the tables turned again. He wanted me to play with him. But, by then, I'd grown from a video game-playing kid into someone that had too many responsibilities to have time to play.
And now he's grown. And we're all ready for the video game analogies to become analogies. The time has come for the intellect that has been sharpened in this digital world to be tested in the real world. I'm anxious to see what happens.
Amelia is growing like a weed. She gets in her walker and can maneuver it like neither DJ nor Roman ever could. You should see her go. She can almost stand by propping herself against the coffee table or the couch, but she's not quite steady enough to let her go it alone. We keep our hands there for support.
She certainly has an appetite. We don't have any trouble feeding her like we did with Roman. The first bite is always funny. She wants to taste a little before she'll take a whole bite. It's fun to watch her little face process the taste. Usually, it lights up and she's ready for a bigger bite; but, sometimes (as with apples) she gives a grimace and won't let us give her another.
She and Roman are finally starting to take off as a tandem. He'll push her around in her walker or entertain her. Sometimes I'll sit Amelia in their bedroom floor. Roman will entertain her; and, if Amelia falls over, he'll run to me and say, "Daddy, Daddy!!! Amelia fall over!!!" So, I'll pick up a chuckling little girl and sit her upright again, so that Roman has an audience.
About a week ago, I was on the computer in my office when Roman runs in there, unusually frantic. "Daddy, Daddy!!! Angry Birds! Angry Birds!" To which I simply replied, "Ok, that's nice. Now go play." So, he ran back into the living room. A few seconds later, he runs back in and again says, "Daddy, Daddy!!! Angry Birds! Angry Birds!" To which I, again, replied, "Ok, that's nice, son. Now go play!" But this time, he didn't run away. He stoned this determined look as though he was determined to communicate what he was trying to say. Finally, he looked back at me and, with a touch of desperation, tried, "Amelia did it!!!" And he was pointing into the hallway anxiously.
Now, he's got my attention. I think to myself, 'oh, shit. I better check this out.'
As I rounded the corner into the hallway, I immediately discover what all the commotion was about. Amelia has a piece of blue, sidewalk chalk which she is just chewing away on. Her face is covered in blue. Roman, exhausting satisfaction, points at his sister and affirms, "See??? Angry Birds!!!"
I guess he thought that, with her face all covered in blue, she looked like an Angry Bird (which, by the way, he loves). Roman will play Angry Birds on his Samsung Kid's Tablet which he calls żółty (which means "yellow" in Polish, because, of course, it's yellow). His old one was blue, so he called it niebieski. Anyway, he'll play Angry Birds for a while before he gives up. Then, he'll sit there for a while just bobbing his head to the game's music. Kinda weird, I know...
Winter has afflicted each of us with a vicious bout of cabin fever. I don't have a problem taking the kids for a walk or to the playground or just outside when the weather is warm; but, in this nasty-ass weather, the kids' activities are rather limited. We can take them to the library where Roman can "check out" a couple of trains and chug them along the play-mat there. We can take them to Ya-Ya's Island where he can run his little heart out or dance under a disco ball or bounce in a giant, inflatable playground. Or we can take them to the mall where he can run around the little toddler's play area in front of Dillard's with the other play-desperate children there. But that's where we had a problem...
I was returning from getting Joanna and myself a couple of lattes from Starbucks. I saw Roman standing on the edge of the little, plastic slide next to a young boy that was still in diapers. Roman was chirping, "meh, meh" like his beloved Pingu the Penguin. The toddler's mother (or grandmother, who knows) was hawkeye-ing Roman, apparently perturbed that he was playing so precariously close to her young child. I agreed. I told Roman to get down, so he did.
Joanna handed Amelia and her bottle to me with the instructions to finish feeding her, because she wanted to walk around and maybe do some shopping. I took her and watched Roman play away.
A few minutes passed; Joanna was no where to be seen; and, the young toddler was now sitting in the plastic boat with Miss Hawkeye Bitchface holding him up. No other children were around, so Roman began to "gravitate" towards the young boy and Miss Bitchface.
Now, let me pause here and tell you something about my son. I've yet to see Roman doing anything, ever, of a malicious nature. I've never seen him hit another child or fight in any way. He may get a little possessive if there's a toy that needs to be shared; but, usually, after a little persuasion, I can get him to come around even with his most prized possession. That's not to say that I think my child is incapable of a mean-streak. Let's face it. Every child is capable of a mean-streak. I'm just saying that I haven't seen it; and, therefore, have no evidence of its existence... yet.
So, in what I perceived as an attempt to make friends, Roman migrated to the plastic boat and stood on the edge imitating Pingu the Penguin. I immediately recognized that he shouldn't be "balancing" on the edge like that so close to the toddler, so I immediately began calling for him. "Roman! Roman! Get down from there!" I would have gone over to get him if my hands weren't Amelia-compromised.
But, before I had a chance to take care of him myself, Miss Hawkeye Bitchface solved the problem. I don't know what was said; but, the next thing I know, she is wagging her finger and telling Roman something that I can't hear. Something that, based on her facial expressions, almost certainly wasn't polite. Roman immediately climbed down from his perch with his head down and slowly meandered over to me. He didn't want to play anymore. In fact, he never did again that day.
Now my heart is pounding. I'm looking frantically around for Joanna, but I don't see her anywhere. I've got a baby in my arms, and a heartbroken three-year-old sitting with his head down next to me. Psycho music was playing in my brain.
I sit there with my heart pounding considering the possibility of just saying something to her anyway, despite the fact that I'm holding a baby in my arms. I'd ask her what she said; Roman hasn't attained the communication ability yet to tell me himself. I'd ask her why couldn't she have waited for me, the parent, to deal with my son, because I was in the process, after all. And, I'd tell her to worry about her own kid and not someone else's. If she has a problem with my child, then she should come and talk to me. Not to my three-year-old.
But, I did none of these things aside from hawk-eyeing Miss Hawkeye herself. I sat there, trying to pretend like my heart wasn't about to pound out of my chest, waiting for my wife, where the hell was she? to return, so that I could relay the events to her, give her Amelia, and give that lady a piece of well-crafted advice.
Finally, Joanna showed up. I told her what happened, and she, too, noticed Roman's despondency. I told Joanna to take Amelia, that I was going to talk to her. But, Joanna could see that psycho look in my eyes. She said, no, come on. it's time to go anyway. So, we gathered everything, and both of us gave Miss Hawkeye Bitchface a good, healthy dose of the Death Glare, and we started walking away. But, then I decide, that no. fuck it. I'm going to have a discussion with her. But, Joanna grabs my arm and insists that no, come on. let's just go. So, I deferred to her judgement, the saner of the two of us. We left.
The next few hours wasn't a fun place to be in my head. I replayed that scenario over-and-over to an unhealthy degree. Even the next few days, I revisited that play area in my head. I couldn't decide if I should have said anything, or if I would have, then what?
I finally reached a conclusion.
Roman shouldn't have been playing so daredevil-ishly close to that child. The lady should have talked to me instead of my three-year-old. She could have said, "I'm sorry, but could you please get your son? I'm concerned because he's standing on the edge, and he might fall and hurt himself or my child." To which, I, of course, would have taken care of the problem and given Roman an appropriate lecture.
But things didn't go the way they should have.
And, I suppose that's life, isn't it? So, what I got was a lesson in life that I shared with my son. If I would have gotten stern with that lady, Roman would have seen it. He would have processed it as if Daddy is going to come to my rescue no matter what.
And that won't, can't, always be the case. Roman needs to know that things don't always go the way they should. There are consequences to our actions. Mommy and Daddy won't be able to bail you out every time. And, see what happens when you don't play carefully?
Miss Hawkeye Bitchface has her own life lessons to learn. I'll just trust that the Universe has an appropriate response waiting for her. One day, she'll run into a parent that makes me look like Mr. Drummond (remember "Different Strokes"?) So, I'm just gonna shove her off the cliff that's in the back of my mind. Thank you for the lesson, now piss off.
Roman and I will probably encounter many Miss Hawkeye Bitchface's over the course of his childhood. I feel a little better equipped on what to do (and what not to do) the next time. You know? Kick her in the crotch and run away!
Just kidding.
"Thank you for looking out for my child, ma'am. I'll take it from here."
Then, I will discuss with my son the should's and should-not's. Roman and I will walk away, hand-in-hand, fantasizing about kicking her in the crotch and running away while Joanna and Amelia laugh at the silly boys...
Blogger's Note: I really have just four words that could comprise this week's feature: 'Dear Winter, Fuck You.' But, I suppose I'll get a little deeper than that.
I was complaining about this weather to Joanna yesterday. She always points out that I'm whining. "In Poland, it gets colder than this. We don't complain!" To which I respond, "Yeah, but it's that way every year. You have winter activities you can do like skiing, snowboarding, and ice skating. We're not used to this crazy ass weather!"
I am a Summer person. You couldn't chain me inside when the weather is nice. I go walking, hiking, bike riding, swimming. I don't even mind mowing the yard. But last Summer was so wet and this Winter is so cold that I just feel depressed. I need to get my nature on.
Ok, ok. I'm done ranting.
I was a little disappointed in the viewership for last week's "Alanaka: Episode II - An Adventure Begins". I've had worse traffic in other posts, but I was really banking on a good turn out for this one. I'll tell you why. Alanaka is a serial. If I don't get people on board with her now, they sure as hell won't be picking her up in the middle of the story. So, I'm going to be pushing her on you for the next couple of weeks. Unlike the "How We Met" story, Alanaka uses this very blog as a "guide" to accompany her on adventures. I have very big plans for her. Plans that I don't want to ruin by giving away anything. Just trust me when I say that while I love the comic relief that these kids bring to me, this story is about to get a little more intense. I need you to be patient for the first couple of episodes while I set up this strange, new world in as believable a way as I am capable.
I'm also going to make navigating my multi-segmented stories a little easier. My sister, Amanda, suggested this idea. By the time you read the next feature, I will have added links to the bottom of each chapter or episode in both my "How We Met" stories and the Alanaka episodes. That way, you'll be able to get from chapter-to-chapter more easily. With Alanaka, this method is a little more difficult though. As I said, she uses the ongoing blog as entertaining reading material in the far-distant future. To get the most out of each story, one would have to be a regular reader of Parenting with Lightsabers. But, you could probably still get the gist in-story.
I was talking to some friends not long ago about my blog. I was wondering if I had lost my way. I mean, what is this blog about anyway? The only common denominator I can find is, well, me. Amber said, of course it's about you. She made the point that even if I was writing a blog about vacuum cleaners then it would be my view on vacuum cleaners. Anything I write, will, in an essence, be about me.
So what is Parenting with Lightsabers? I mean, it seems like I rarely even write about my kids anymore. I have Flashback episodes, mine and Joanna's "How We Met" story, something random, and, now, some futuristic gibberish about some girl named Alanaka. Jeremy said 'don't worry about it. Write whatever you feel like writing.' He said that when you're fishing, it's ok to let the line go out a ways to see what happens. Eventually, you'll reel it back in.
So, I've got a little comfort that maybe I'm not as far out there as I thought I was. On what made me the parent that I am, I have to know where I have been (as in the 'How We Met' story or the Flashback episodes). I have to know where I am (as in the random 'What's Going On Now' features). And I like to imagine where I'm going. Alanaka is the with Lightsabers part of Parenting with Lightsabers. She is the part that I have fun with. Stringing together the Past, the Present, and the Future, my blog is complete. This is Parenting with Lightsabers.
To be honest, I preferred a three week rotation. But, I was sooo itching to write Alanaka. Not to mention, the "How We Met" stories will end at Chapter 16. Then, I can go back to my nice, little three week rotation. But, if I'm going to continue on the path I'm paving in the future, then you're going to have to jump on board... NOW!!! If you haven't already, then please check out Alanaka's story. It's here. From there, navigate to Episode II, and you'll be caught up!
Now... It's time to reel in that line a little...
Listening to: The Avett Brothers "The Ballad of Love and Hate"
The big news this week is that March 2nd was DJ's 18th birthday. My son is an adult. I know how often it gets said, but doesn't time just fly by so fast?? I remember when I lived in my little cabin in Lake City. I'd be laying on my belly playing Donkey Kong Country on Super Nintendo. DJ would beg me to play it, because he liked to watch. He'd get mad if I would suggest that he play. He'd get too frustrated if there was a part that he couldn't get past. Then, one day, he took the controller. And he wouldn't give it back. He became the expert.
Then, the tables turned again. He wanted me to play with him. But, by then, I'd grown from a video game-playing kid into someone that had too many responsibilities to have time to play.
Amelia is growing like a weed. She gets in her walker and can maneuver it like neither DJ nor Roman ever could. You should see her go. She can almost stand by propping herself against the coffee table or the couch, but she's not quite steady enough to let her go it alone. We keep our hands there for support.
She certainly has an appetite. We don't have any trouble feeding her like we did with Roman. The first bite is always funny. She wants to taste a little before she'll take a whole bite. It's fun to watch her little face process the taste. Usually, it lights up and she's ready for a bigger bite; but, sometimes (as with apples) she gives a grimace and won't let us give her another.
She and Roman are finally starting to take off as a tandem. He'll push her around in her walker or entertain her. Sometimes I'll sit Amelia in their bedroom floor. Roman will entertain her; and, if Amelia falls over, he'll run to me and say, "Daddy, Daddy!!! Amelia fall over!!!" So, I'll pick up a chuckling little girl and sit her upright again, so that Roman has an audience.
About a week ago, I was on the computer in my office when Roman runs in there, unusually frantic. "Daddy, Daddy!!! Angry Birds! Angry Birds!" To which I simply replied, "Ok, that's nice. Now go play." So, he ran back into the living room. A few seconds later, he runs back in and again says, "Daddy, Daddy!!! Angry Birds! Angry Birds!" To which I, again, replied, "Ok, that's nice, son. Now go play!" But this time, he didn't run away. He stoned this determined look as though he was determined to communicate what he was trying to say. Finally, he looked back at me and, with a touch of desperation, tried, "Amelia did it!!!" And he was pointing into the hallway anxiously.Now, he's got my attention. I think to myself, 'oh, shit. I better check this out.'
As I rounded the corner into the hallway, I immediately discover what all the commotion was about. Amelia has a piece of blue, sidewalk chalk which she is just chewing away on. Her face is covered in blue. Roman, exhausting satisfaction, points at his sister and affirms, "See??? Angry Birds!!!"
I guess he thought that, with her face all covered in blue, she looked like an Angry Bird (which, by the way, he loves). Roman will play Angry Birds on his Samsung Kid's Tablet which he calls żółty (which means "yellow" in Polish, because, of course, it's yellow). His old one was blue, so he called it niebieski. Anyway, he'll play Angry Birds for a while before he gives up. Then, he'll sit there for a while just bobbing his head to the game's music. Kinda weird, I know...
Winter has afflicted each of us with a vicious bout of cabin fever. I don't have a problem taking the kids for a walk or to the playground or just outside when the weather is warm; but, in this nasty-ass weather, the kids' activities are rather limited. We can take them to the library where Roman can "check out" a couple of trains and chug them along the play-mat there. We can take them to Ya-Ya's Island where he can run his little heart out or dance under a disco ball or bounce in a giant, inflatable playground. Or we can take them to the mall where he can run around the little toddler's play area in front of Dillard's with the other play-desperate children there. But that's where we had a problem...
I was returning from getting Joanna and myself a couple of lattes from Starbucks. I saw Roman standing on the edge of the little, plastic slide next to a young boy that was still in diapers. Roman was chirping, "meh, meh" like his beloved Pingu the Penguin. The toddler's mother (or grandmother, who knows) was hawkeye-ing Roman, apparently perturbed that he was playing so precariously close to her young child. I agreed. I told Roman to get down, so he did.
Joanna handed Amelia and her bottle to me with the instructions to finish feeding her, because she wanted to walk around and maybe do some shopping. I took her and watched Roman play away.
A few minutes passed; Joanna was no where to be seen; and, the young toddler was now sitting in the plastic boat with Miss Hawkeye Bitchface holding him up. No other children were around, so Roman began to "gravitate" towards the young boy and Miss Bitchface.
Now, let me pause here and tell you something about my son. I've yet to see Roman doing anything, ever, of a malicious nature. I've never seen him hit another child or fight in any way. He may get a little possessive if there's a toy that needs to be shared; but, usually, after a little persuasion, I can get him to come around even with his most prized possession. That's not to say that I think my child is incapable of a mean-streak. Let's face it. Every child is capable of a mean-streak. I'm just saying that I haven't seen it; and, therefore, have no evidence of its existence... yet.
So, in what I perceived as an attempt to make friends, Roman migrated to the plastic boat and stood on the edge imitating Pingu the Penguin. I immediately recognized that he shouldn't be "balancing" on the edge like that so close to the toddler, so I immediately began calling for him. "Roman! Roman! Get down from there!" I would have gone over to get him if my hands weren't Amelia-compromised.
But, before I had a chance to take care of him myself, Miss Hawkeye Bitchface solved the problem. I don't know what was said; but, the next thing I know, she is wagging her finger and telling Roman something that I can't hear. Something that, based on her facial expressions, almost certainly wasn't polite. Roman immediately climbed down from his perch with his head down and slowly meandered over to me. He didn't want to play anymore. In fact, he never did again that day.
Now my heart is pounding. I'm looking frantically around for Joanna, but I don't see her anywhere. I've got a baby in my arms, and a heartbroken three-year-old sitting with his head down next to me. Psycho music was playing in my brain.
I sit there with my heart pounding considering the possibility of just saying something to her anyway, despite the fact that I'm holding a baby in my arms. I'd ask her what she said; Roman hasn't attained the communication ability yet to tell me himself. I'd ask her why couldn't she have waited for me, the parent, to deal with my son, because I was in the process, after all. And, I'd tell her to worry about her own kid and not someone else's. If she has a problem with my child, then she should come and talk to me. Not to my three-year-old.
But, I did none of these things aside from hawk-eyeing Miss Hawkeye herself. I sat there, trying to pretend like my heart wasn't about to pound out of my chest, waiting for my wife, where the hell was she? to return, so that I could relay the events to her, give her Amelia, and give that lady a piece of well-crafted advice.
Finally, Joanna showed up. I told her what happened, and she, too, noticed Roman's despondency. I told Joanna to take Amelia, that I was going to talk to her. But, Joanna could see that psycho look in my eyes. She said, no, come on. it's time to go anyway. So, we gathered everything, and both of us gave Miss Hawkeye Bitchface a good, healthy dose of the Death Glare, and we started walking away. But, then I decide, that no. fuck it. I'm going to have a discussion with her. But, Joanna grabs my arm and insists that no, come on. let's just go. So, I deferred to her judgement, the saner of the two of us. We left.
The next few hours wasn't a fun place to be in my head. I replayed that scenario over-and-over to an unhealthy degree. Even the next few days, I revisited that play area in my head. I couldn't decide if I should have said anything, or if I would have, then what?
I finally reached a conclusion.
Roman shouldn't have been playing so daredevil-ishly close to that child. The lady should have talked to me instead of my three-year-old. She could have said, "I'm sorry, but could you please get your son? I'm concerned because he's standing on the edge, and he might fall and hurt himself or my child." To which, I, of course, would have taken care of the problem and given Roman an appropriate lecture.
But things didn't go the way they should have.
And, I suppose that's life, isn't it? So, what I got was a lesson in life that I shared with my son. If I would have gotten stern with that lady, Roman would have seen it. He would have processed it as if Daddy is going to come to my rescue no matter what.
And that won't, can't, always be the case. Roman needs to know that things don't always go the way they should. There are consequences to our actions. Mommy and Daddy won't be able to bail you out every time. And, see what happens when you don't play carefully?
Miss Hawkeye Bitchface has her own life lessons to learn. I'll just trust that the Universe has an appropriate response waiting for her. One day, she'll run into a parent that makes me look like Mr. Drummond (remember "Different Strokes"?) So, I'm just gonna shove her off the cliff that's in the back of my mind. Thank you for the lesson, now piss off.
Roman and I will probably encounter many Miss Hawkeye Bitchface's over the course of his childhood. I feel a little better equipped on what to do (and what not to do) the next time. You know? Kick her in the crotch and run away!
Just kidding.
"Thank you for looking out for my child, ma'am. I'll take it from here."
Then, I will discuss with my son the should's and should-not's. Roman and I will walk away, hand-in-hand, fantasizing about kicking her in the crotch and running away while Joanna and Amelia laugh at the silly boys...
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