May The Road Rise To Meet You

It's finally happened, what I've been waiting for - the consistent ability to stay in my pyjamas on a school day. OK perhaps not the greatest aspiration. But - after years of trying to get all three boys out the door to school on time, making sure they were fed, watered, dressed ("It is below zero out - no, you cannot wear shorts to school!"), with permission forms signed and with lunches made - the luxury of not having to fit in my own getting dressed to walk them to school is a blessing. It gives me valuable time to do something like eat my own breakfast. What has changed? My 7 year old son is now walking to school on his own.

To be accurate (though accuracy is not a quality particularly prized here at Pop Culture, we value shock, humour and good storytelling more) this is a return to form. In past years, the youngest has been walked to school by one of his older brothers. This year, with both of them attending other schools and leaving at different times, I was back in the position of walking him to school. It does have its benefits - holding his hand crossing the street, seeing who his friends are and interacting with them - so, when he asked me a few weeks ago when he would be able to walk to school on his own, a part of me was hurt that he didn't want me there. A larger part of me was happy though - ah, freedom.

Some might be shocked I'd let my son walk to school on his own - to them I say, pbbbt. Cue sound of grandpa talking about the old days, "When I was a boy I would walk 20 miles to school... uphill both ways... through snow in bare feet... fighting wolves... with an old potato..." But I did walk to school as a boy from a young age and for a good distance - and I loved it. It was one of the memorable and important parts of the day. It started out by accident on my 6th birthday in Grade One in mid September. My mum didn't show up to pick me up and I assumed that since I was now six I was expected to walk home - a good half hour walk through downtown Toronto crossing major streets like Eglinton and Yonge. And so I set off. My mum arrived shortly afterwards, hauling my younger brother and sister - road construction had prevented her from getting there on time. Panic ensued as no one knew where I was.

I was eventually brought home by a police officer to greet my distraught mother and all my birthday party guests. After that I KNEW I could walk home - I had made it almost the whole way without incident - it was simply that last turn off I had missed. Now I wouldn't make that mistake again. Given my stubborn vehemence my parents arranged for an older neighbour girl to walk me to school and back. I responded by running away from her. I know, what a jerk. But I was incensed that I wasn't being given my due. Eventually my parents accepted it and I walked to and from school from then on, eventually walking my younger sister and brother as well.

It wasn't without incident - I remember a mean dog, getting in a fight with a bigger guy who didn't like me walking by his house for some reason, being stuck in a huge mud pit since my rubber boots couldn't escape the suction, to name a few - but that's what made it so great. How could I tell my son I didn't think he could handle a 3 block walk to school when I had that experience myself.

We started slow (as I did with my older boys). Walking with him shorter and shorter distances, watching to make sure he looked when he crossed the street etc. I would watch until he disappeared from sight, waving at him comically whenever he looked back to see if I was still there. It gave me a pang in my heart when he stopped looking back but it was overridden by my pride at how big and independent he was getting.

So this Monday was the moment when I would watch him from the front porch. I asked him if he was ready for me to let him go the whole way himself. He smiled and nodded happily and then moved in to give me a big hug and mumbled into my stomach. I couldn't hear what he said so I crouched down and asked him to say again.

"Except on snowy days," he said.

"Snowy days? Why, you worried the cars won't see you?" (Projecting - I was worried about this).

"No. So we can have snow fights."

They say down in Who-ville that the Grinch's heart grew 2 sizes that day.

I smiled. I knew that it wasn't that he didn't want me there - he just wanted to be able to prove to me he could do this on his own.

The first few days went really well - he only looked back once on the first day and then not again after that. He started out walking, but by the time he crossed the first street, he was running - so excited to be on his own. Then yesterday it snowed here. A lot.

We looked at each other with knowing smiles. It was a pleasure to get dressed and when I came downstairs he was already outside with a clump of snow as big as his head in his arms. We've had some good snowball fights both yesterday and today - both of us starting the day off right. With a fun adventure.

Homecoming

I recently returned from a 10 day trip to Iceland and Europe - a long delayed birthday present and the first time I have been away from home on my own for... 11 years. That's a long time. In fact it's three lifetimes - i.e. the lives of my boys. It was fantastic. When asked if I missed my children I had to admit, "No. Not at all."


Some people may be shocked or offended or something by that but, you know what? Screw them. To have a sustained period of time without me having to makes lunches, do laundry, break up stupid fights about whether someone was looking at someone else "funny" etc. was enriching, rejuvenating and relaxing. When people take vacations do others ask them concernedly, "Gosh, do you miss work?" "Uh, duh, no - that's why I'm on vacation. Idiot." I didn't miss them because being away from them was what I desperately needed. I also took comfort in knowing that they really didn't miss me either. To you out there cooing and saying, "Of course, they did, silly." I say, Bullshit. Now my wife missed me - I know that. She talked about how hard it was and how tired she was... hmm. Not sure she missed ME either as much as the role I fulfill but, whatever, she greeted me at the airport with tears in her eyes, I'll choose to interpret that any way I want, thank you.


So, after arriving home and doling out the various gifts I had picked up on my travels we sat around and ate and I talked about some of what I did and saw on my trip. During a pause my middle child asked, "What else did you see?"


I talked about spending days by myself talking to no one and also about catching up with old friends over hours of conversation and city rambles. I talked about seeing where the two continental plates meet in Iceland and how the fact they pull away from each other at about 2 centimetres a year helps foster some of the crazy geothermal and volcanic activity on that island. I talked about seeing geysers and waterfalls and swimming in an electric blue lagoon full of naturally heated water with the steam billowing off it to disappear over the broken up lava rocks in the distance. I talked about the canals, beautiful buildings and leafy squares of Delft in the Netherlands. (I didn't mention all the beautiful women on the Dutch bikes enjoying the sunshine - although that was nice to see as well). I talked about listening to musicians in leiderhosen playing Oktoberfest songs in a Munich brauhaus as I clinked glasses with locals, being careful to look them in the eye. I also talked about hiking up a mountain in the stunning Bavarian countryside and gazing out over the fantastic landscape. It was great, right?


He looked at me, blinked and then clarified, "No, I meant, what else did you see in the gift shop?"


Jerk.


At that point I realized my holiday was truly over.

New Year Reflections and Resolutions

Whew. They're back at school (and in my wife's case, work). Now my holiday begins. Ha ha. Right. I now scramble madly to get back on top of home based stuff as well as dust off my computer and get back to writing tasks that took a serious back seat to family holiday stuff. I was joking with other parents that there were a lot of long faces in my house Sunday afternoon and Monday morning - except for mine. No. Really. Joking I was.

It WAS actually a great holiday for us this year and I can honestly say that I was less happy to have them all leave me yesterday morning than usual after a long school break. I told my wife this in a rare show of tenderness and sharing. Huh. Well, now I know why men don't share their tender thoughts and sharing much. It did not get the reaction I thought it would - AT ALL. What made it such a good holiday and start of a New Year? Below I outline some discoveries, reflections and resolutions.

SNOW IS A GREAT BABYSITTER
I am even more upset by global warming because of the reminder this holiday about how awesome snow is and how someday we might not have it. Not only is it pretty and reflect the low light levels of our northern winters and provides important hydration and protection for plant life, it makes a great place to stick a kid. Nothing kills the holiday spirit like kids dragging themselves around the house moaning that they're bored and nagging me to play on the computer/Wii/watch TV etc. Toss them in their snow gear and even a normally lame city backyard presents endless amounts of entertainment. There is groaning and complaining while you push them out the door with a snow shovel but minutes later they are happily throwing snow at each other, themselves or a squirrel. They come back in pink cheeked, all their yayas worked out, in much better moods and they sleep well. Even better if you go out with them you can throw snowballs at them yourself and toss them into snowbanks all in the name of good clean fun and working out some of your own frustrations. RESOLUTIONS: Contribute to Environmental Advocacy groups, invest in snow making equipment and keep the kids outside as much as possible in all kinds of weather.

HIGH-LEVEL SUMMITS
I think that once I'm done this dad gig I might hie myself over to the Mideast and sort those numbskulls out. We've have some very fierce negotiations around here - mostly about how much electronic "screen time" each is entitled to, and when, and on what device... essentially about the shared use of scarce resources or territory. I have to say we worked out some very successful strategies that were mutually acceptable. I am not one normally inclined to such an approach. I am more of the tactical strike type but, hat tip to my lovely wife and consigliere, who just happens to be the daughter of a diplomat, I have seen the benefits of the negotiated settlement. That said, a strategic "wardrobe malfunction" accidentally displaying my arsenal helps focus the minds of the disputants and speed a solution.

ROAD TRIPS, IN JOKES and BONDING
On the road again. Sedan packed to the roof with toboggans (sleds to my US friends), presents and a gross of homemade Christmas cookies, we did the annual (5 hour minimum) migration to Ottawa AKA "The Land of Ice and Snow and In-Laws". As my friend Jason recently dubbed it, we did a "Full Griswold". These trips can be fraught affairs, especially if you run into holiday traffic or snowstorms. They were something I used to dread and would make me crabby but, a couple of summers of multiple road trips have turned them into an important and (sometimes, mostly) enjoyable experience. One of the big benefits is my wife and I actually get to talk to each other for hours at a time - when the kids are asleep or watching a movie - which is something I enjoy but is rare these days.

These road trips also employ the standard dramatic device of putting a bunch of people in a confined space and forcing them to interact. The results obviously can be unpleasant but lately we've found a pretty good balance. Families only get stronger if they spend time and do things together. In the "regular season" parents and kids are often so busy they can't do this and often the kids do not even want to spend time with their siblings. The "boiler room" experience changes this.

Many parents' strategy is putting on the DVD as soon as they put the car in gear. We've done it but this results in extremely snappy and brain-shrunken children unable to deal with each other in any way other than violence and rudeness when the player is off. We hold the DVD player in reserve, dependant on good behaviour, which includes participation in old fashioned road trip games. These build the family relationships leading to various in-jokes that come up every time we go on the road trips. Even the eventual DVD watching can be relationship building as we insist the kids negotiate which shows they will watch and in what order. They then all watch the same show which results in them sharing other experiences and having other references and in-jokes. RESOLUTION: Watch more DVDs with the kid to understand what they are talking about and find ways to replicate this experience in the "regular season" i.e. family games night.

NAME CALLING
I am a prime offender at this. It's a slippery slope from terms of endearment and teasing and joking to nastier stuff. This was brought home during a game of Catchphrase with the in-laws after the kids went to bed when in one interaction I said, "This is what I call my kids" (meaning "Knuckleheads") when my wife chirped in, "Idiots?". Er. Hmm. Yeah. Knuckleheads to me sounds OK, like Nitwits, or Goofballs but once you start on that it doesn't end well. Part of this has to do with the fact I can never remember their actual names in moments of kid-induced crisis. Having a loving short-form nickname like Numbskull comes in handy.

Spending a lot of time together ultimately results in friction. But when the kids refer to each other in those insulting terms, how can I take the moral high ground when they do? And, believe me, I love the Moral High Ground. I might build a retirement home there; the view is fantastic. So we've instituted a new no name calling policy at our house for the kids or NC for short. This is grouped with a no Acts of Violence policy (AV), no Deliberate Provocation (DP), no Personal Remarks (PR) policy with a subgroup of that we call no Personal Insults (PI). I came up with that one after my youngest called me fat and my wife chided him saying that it was a PR. "Wait a minute," I said, "PR implies something that is true but mean to say and the real problem is he called me fat. Which I am not and so we need to have a subgroup called PI because I'm not fat. Right?" Everyone went very quiet after that which I am taking as agreement not an adoption of the PR policy.

Of course I've broken most of those rules myself already but I'm trying to improve. RESOLUTION: Call them by their proper names and stop eating Christmas cookies.

BIG REALIZATION
I really like my kids. And the holiday reminded me of this in many ways and we had a lot of fun. But I am glad they are back at school.