How gross does a sink have to be that a plant grows out of it? How does a seedling even find it’s way in there? From a mouth, right? Do I immediately throw out all our chia, hemp and pumpkin seeds? HOW MUST ONE PARENT IN THIS SITUATION??!!!
Ok. Right. Just do a better job of cleaning.
I’ve worked from home for the last 11 years. It’s been a challenge at times being alone, forever looking at the dirt that needs to be swept or the laundry that needs to be folded when deadlines are looming or deadlines are non-existent and need to be drummed up. I sometimes question why I chose this path, why I didn’t go out and work like “most” people do.
Moments like today however, when mere seconds after returning home from school great floods of tears are spilled and I’m there to soak them up, to try and help make some sense of the topsy-turvy life we all live in, that the decision to work the way I do makes all the sense in the world.
Sometimes what our kids need most, is just having someone there.
Good grief. It’s getting close to go time. I’ll do my best to send along some other notes from the Art of Dad archives 12 years ago on baby facts that you might not be aware, of like the one below. Do not be alarmed if your newborn looks like a hobbit – it won’t last. There is a reason all baby related marketing photos are taken of kids well past the first few months of life.
I do hope you’re banking your sleep for you’ll have little of it soon.
Thinking of you,
(from the archives 12 years past)
After 14 years of avoiding them, we’ve now entered the wonderfully terrible world of concussions. During a nordic ski race our daughter had a crash and had her proverbial “bell rung”. Concussion awareness is a big deal these days (see the NFL lawsuit and the new NHL protocol for examples in the pro sport world), and I’m grateful that the learning is yielding some positive steps for recovery. This is a far cry from when I was a kid and literally used smelling salts and a swig of water to get back on the ice or on the field of play.
Today, through the Return to Learn protocol, we have a structured step by step plan to follow. Once this has been achieved the Return to Sport guidelines will be followed. Bookmark these sites because they’re excellent. While I hope you never have to use them, they’ll be there should you or someone you know, need them.
While following these steps we noticed there is precious little to do for the modern tween or teen. No screens? Heavens above. After a couple of boring days we stumbled on the winning concept – audiobooks. Thanks to the good folks at the public library and our trusty internet connection, entertainment that is free of cognitive challenge is readily available. Add in a comfy couch by a window, a warm blanket and a pair of sunglasses and you’ve got yourself a decent recovery activity with some quality literature.
This is classic stuff. When kids get hurt they let you know, right away. Usually with volume. As they get older and we as parents get wiser, we wait a little bit to ensure the ailment is legit otherwise we’d be rushing off to the doctor every half hour. When the complaining has lasted long enough and is loud enough I’ll make the appointment and off we go. Inevitably, we’ll get to the doctor’s office and everything that was wrong has been magically fixed. This puts me in the wonderful position of looking like an overly stressed, suffocating hypochondriac who twitches at the sight of a runny nose. So it was, at a recent appointment that when our kindly doctor did ask why my son was seeing him, my boy turned to me and asked “Why did you bring me here?”. Sigh.
Ahhhhh kids, winter weather and clothing. My wise friend (who said he’d heard it from someone else but I’m crediting him anyway) said: “There’s no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothing.” And he’s right. I fear it’s a rite of passage for all teens (and soon to be teens) to forgo the down-filled jackets, sheepskin lined mittens and micro fibre wicking toques, and to brave the elements for all they’re worth. I did it. I’ll bet you did it. The only difference now is that we’re the ones nagging because we know we’re the care-givers that have to be there for them to make chicken soup, take days of work and nurse them back to health when the inevitable happens. (And we haven’t even hit the -20’s yet!)