The not at all accidental tourist

I can't undo the lid. It's stuck. Has it really been that long ? Finally with an exerted twist the lid comes of the deodorant and with a determined push on the roller I can finally use it.

The holiday is over.

Just like that as soon as it started it seemed to end.

And instead of just posting pictures and comments on activities completed, this time we will critically examine "the Tourist"

image courtesy of  shake-speares-bible.com

Lets start with the driving tourist, their behavior during the holiday is incredible. Why people drive stupidly and do things that during the working week they would never contemplate is beyond me.

- speeding up in the overtaking sections so no one over takes them and then slow back down to 85kph once its back to single lanes
- overtaking in a zone that is beyond dangerous on roads they are not familiar with

You can see the driving holiday tourists everywhere, they are the ones that regardless of the weather their determination to do as much as possible is matched only by their determination to push you out of the way to get then best photo.

Some other more amusing things we noted :

- You should not get your son to go for a run if you are only going to follow him in the car with the dog hanging out the window

- I still don’t know how you can run and chew gum at the same time without choking to death on the first hill

- The attitude of small business owners in small towns ranging from the over friendly to the” I prefer it when there are no people around “

and yes I will charge $1.77 for a litre of petrol because you actually need it.

I was however delighted to see that the speed which kids form new relationships hasn't waned as they grow older. That's one thing I hope the guys never grow out of.

I did note after arriving home from a Farmers market one Sunday morning that once again I had fallen for the "try this it's great - you'll love it" and bought another unusual sauce which will spend the the next 3 years in the cupboard right next to the exotic stir fry oil.

I also realised I was not going to get as much of that stick peperoni  I bought as I discover the kids hacking off large chunks 10 minutes after it arrived home. But at least their palates are going to be expanded.

So as the holiday drew to an end and we all shared our favorite moments, we did discover an interesting fact - that you can deliver bad news to anyone if straight after you burst into the Benny Hill theme.

Go on try it....

Sorry sir you have Hydrophobia - da da da dadada na nana etc......

Am I ready ? I mean really ready ?

As they all march on to the thin stage the spotlights make some of the boys blink and squint out in to the audience to try and see better / someone they know. They shuffle awkwardly and itch at inappropriate places, their bodies caught in that time that's almost changing them into teenagers but leaving their minds still filled with wild imagination fueled fun.
They literally have attention spans that can only be measured by the sorts of equipment required to build the Large Hadron Collider.

As they describe their experiences, in getting to this glorious point, I try hard not to allow my brain to take me back to the same era - Grade 6.
The eldest is going though the last remaining days of Primary School and there is lots of pomp and ceremony interspersed with good advice and re-assurances that support is around, you just have to ask.

Whom to ask and about what is not quite apparent -  but you get the idea.

School is not an easy place, its supposed to be the safest place to become correctly prepared for the world at large. Each child is raised carefully by a combination of the school and the parents with both complimenting each other.

Well that's the theory anyway.

I'm the last person to be preaching this, I was a terrible student. There are things I did at school that still can not be told in public because once it gets out or on the Internet it will get out of hand. I did not fulfill the true definition of school until much later in life.

But now that the eldest has completed junior school he apparently is ready for the next set of challenges.

What about his parents are they ready ?

When they are babies you look at them without worrying about  future problems - that will all come later. When they are babies their needs are simple (well that's how I choose to remember it)

Feeding - Burping - Cleaning up vomit - you get the idea.

The problems are solvable, Do we have enough nappies ? Do we have the house quiet enough for them to sleep ? Is it the middle of the night and do they need comforting ? Is the food in the baby or on the floor and wall ?

See ! All solvable.

Now that he's a teenager it changes.  I mean - I hope he can clean up his own vomit but that's the least of my worries.

Have I kept up with the latest trends ? Do I even know what's cool right now ?

Do I have a computer / console  that will play the latest games? nothing worse than having old technology apparently. And the fact that he has to share it with the rest of us constantly stuns him.

Have I or the beloved ensured he leaves the house dressed at  least semi decently ? No Son that tracksuit and top are not OK you look homeless. You have a wardrobe full of nice clothes , go and try again.

And no you can not eat last nights pasta/rice for breakfast (well not in front of your mother). You have to have a decent breakfast.

All these problems get easier to solve once you have seen them a few times but then - Unexpected ones arise as if he has decided the game is too repetitive and needs new boundaries.
It's like getting up in the middle of the night -  You know you are going to stub your toe , you just don't know when or on what.

So as they all march off the stage, their certificate grasped in their fists, I hope their parents are ready.....

Family functions and time

The table is large and round and the guest are seated closely together, they prod at their meals nervously with chopsticks looking at the contents wondering if they have eaten them before.
The host laughs loudly and they all sort of  laugh, they seem to know each other but at the same time it's just a little uncomfortable.
The owner of the restaurant chuckles when I ask him about the table. It seems it's the hosts birthday and they come here each year. This casts me back to our family functions. We did something very similar - Always went to the same Chinese restaurant for birthdays, mothers day and fathers day.

It really became like a ritual. A big table for the adults and a little table for the kids. Sometimes good conversations and sometimes it all got a bit difficult.

The other holidays were shared around, everyone took it in turns to have Christmas day lunch / dinner and we all would traipse off to our relatives house to spend the day hanging out and catching up. The cooking was mainly done by the host family but everyone pitched in bringing something.

There would be the obligatory cricket match on the road, interrupted by the yell of " Car" to which the stumps would come of with the rest of the kids on to the nature strip until the car had passed and the game could resume.

Lunch would be served and cleared leaving the parents to lapse into afternoon naps or sometimes discussions over a further bottle of wine. The house would then spring back in to life after 5pm and another meal of cold meats and salads would be served along with presents (and more wine). Everyone would leave vowing to catch up " more than just at Christmas".

Gradually I noticed less family showing up as the kids got older. Boyfriends and Girlfriends came along engagements and weddings happened and the dreaded  "split day"  discussion would be raised.

This involved both sides of the relationship agreeing on where they would go for the day time meal and the night time meal.

That being said. You absolutely can not invoke Social commitment remorse for any family function. It's not allowed. Family functions in my house were compulsory -  everybody showed up.

We teach both our kids the same. You plan out the day/event like you're invading another country - take plenty of supplies and be prepared for absolutely anything.

I'll still never forget showing up for a lunch (Sunday) and the meal consisted of a roast chicken, potatoes and peas.

For 6 adults and two children. Talk about portion control.

image courtesy of marcwellness.com

And The Beloved and I once went to a wedding way up in the Yarra Valley and then after the ceremony drove two hours back to get to a 40th Birthday of a cousin.

In the same day.

Thank goodness I don't drive.

But what ever the case you attend, pay homage and leave. (After an appropriately waited time) and if you're there too long - Don't worry there is always one relative trying to wrap the party up and shoo you out by cleaning up and trying to finish off every one's conversations.

Recently parties have become a little more broader and started to include past friends. I would say mainly because the milestones are getting bigger - 40th, 50th and even 70th's have started to pop up.

 I do so love people re introducing themselves to me as if I am some sort of altizimers patient - " I'm <insert name>, and when you were little " <insert hand / height gesture here> " I would ...."

I know who you are. You were the Mum who I one day hoped to marry someone just like you or the person who treated me like an adult when everyone else would see me as a child.

You were the Dad that hosted sleepovers and lied to the neighbours that the boys would never do something as stupid as throw wads of burning newspaper over their fence.

So I smile and chat, with all the memories flooding back and hope that this many people will show up when I hit these milestones. Because these are/will be the people that have and will have shaped who I am

And I want them to know that that means a lot.

But I'll tell you one thing for sure - you will get a decent feed.

This Pool Water tastes different.....

I can dimly see my family through a dirty Perspex window. A calm voice counts down 3, 2, 1 and my whole world goes light then dark and then light again. I have no idea which way is up and when I screech to a halt in 2 feet of water I now know what projectile vomit feels like.

So why am I here with a spinal  board style piece of plastic strapped to my body and why did I mortgage my house to experience this ?

Yep ...... School holidays.

That glorious time when we attempt to spend time together without :

a) Killing each other
b) Having to re-mortgage the house 

So as per standard family rules, we try at least once a year to go to a place where we have not been before and try something we have never tried before.

This time we  headed off to a small coastal town near the border of New South Wales and Queensland. Its perfect. Stunning views  and a gorgeous lagoon pool, that has a day time water temperature of 8 degrees, which turns out to be fine because we're from Melbourne and once the outside temperature rises above 12 degrees we pretty much strip off and start running around naked.

The kids had decided that as we were near the Gold Coast (over 60km away) we should go to the theme parks. The Beloved said - only two as they're pretty pricey. So water slides and the opportunity to get our bathers wedged up our backsides it was.

So off we headed to the water parks. The entry fees has set us back well over what Rupert Murdoch earns in an hour and if the line to get in is any indication there is a lot more lining up to come.

image courtesy of therealsouthkorea.wordpress.com

We pay for a locker (cash only of course) and dutifully line up for each ride. The wait time can be expressed as the following :

Wait Time = Length of Ride x Excitement

In other words you are going to line up a lot. Some rides are better than others.

After all that excitement off to the wave pool we go. As I am standing in the calm waters (they only turn the waves on every 10 minutes or so ) a thought occurs to me exactly how much snot would be in these things ?

As I sit there thinking this the waves start up I get I get knocked over and  manage to gulp several mouthfuls of  the pool water which seems to consist of children's pee diluted with a splash of water.

Now it's time to eat. It's important to note you can take your own food into these parks, just not commercially prepared food, which,  as we are on holidays is really all we have access to.

This means we have to buy it inside. So again we line up.

What genius came up with the idea of 3 nuggets, (notice I didn't specify what what type of meat was in the nuggets, that's because it's completely indeterminable) a handful of fries, a coke and and a Krispy Kreme doughnut and said "that's a lunch pack!" ?

And then what led them to the conclusion that we would pay $16.99 for this equivalent of 5 Big Mac's worth of calories and then feed it to an already over stimulated child ?

And as if that's not enough, don't even try to think about the volumes of sugar in the food sold , including a three foot plastic tube of frozen sugar proudly bought to you by your friends at Coca Cola (which of course can be refilled at a marginally lower price that what you originally paid.)

So as the afternoon draws on and I try to digest my "lunch" I begin people watching (when your stuck in a line on a stairwell 20 feet off the ground there's not much else to do). I notice a couple having a pretty intense discussion.
I hear him say " I just can't take it anymore" she is crying. He walks off - she looks lost.

Oh shit - they're breaking up ! Who breaks up with someone in a theme park ? That's like going to Disney Land and walking in the gate and walking out straight away because it looks boring. You just don't do that.

I mean sure - if you are coming down off a sugar high after one of those frozen coke tubes , maybe you could be a bit irrational, but breaking up ?

So as the afternoon ticks on towards closing time and people start to realize the stinging pain of the parts of their bodies they missed when putting on sunscreen in the morning, it's time to go. The obligatory traipse through the gift shop is mercifully painless and we make our way through the car park the size of the Northern Territory towards the car.

As the palm trees along the highway whiz by, the kids are asleep with huge smiles still on their faces, so it all seems worth it.

I think next year we should go somewhere less crowded.

and hopefully nobody is breaking up while I'm there.

Motivating almost a teenager.....

It's a bight sunny day and I look out at the yard knowing it needs a clean and and a tidy to bring it back to its inner city shoe box sized courtyard best. I grab the broom and begin sweeping, but as usual my mind wanders to other things we could be doing. I look back through the window to the boys buried deep in computers and iPods.

What I really want them to have is the motivation to get them off the couch and from behind their technology.

It seems like only yesterday that I look down at his little hand tugging at mine and his pleading cries :

"Come on Dad lets go to the park !"

"Come on Dad lets chase those bloody fat pigeons out of the yard !"

image courtesy of slate.com

Now they hide from me.  In the couch or around the house because they know I want to go out. Having pre-teenagers certainly is different from toddlers. Gone is the enthusiasm for exploring the world. Gone is insatiable appetite for destruction.

I mean who hasnt' gone into another room to do something and come back to find a kitchen cupboard completely unpacked on  to the floor by an ever smiling toddler.

I really want to keep going out and do things together.

Problem is I probably make them feel awkward, kids nowadays don't really want to be seem with their parents I guess.

And it was different when I was kid, both my parents worked full time so we were forced to do somethings by ourselves. But thanks to  random unrelated "bad things" that happened to children, the media made us terrified of letting the kids do the same stuff we did. By the time the beloved was 13 she was catching a train from Mt Waverley to Hawthorn each day by herself.

Now days you would probably get reported for letting that happen. But I'm telling you we have to get them used to doing things for themselves.

I keep banging on about we have to get the kids to make decisions every day so they don't get to their first party - get offered drugs and not know how to give the correct response with out losing face in front of their peers.

*steps off soap box*

Anyway if I can get them convinced to come out side with me, it always goes well. Once they get out and start the activity you can't wipe the smile off their faces. I still remember begging, cajoling , pleading to go for a ride with the Eldest. Finally we head off and bugger me if after not more than 30 secs of riding he is whistling and smiling like he's just discovered the greatest thing ever.

After 10 minutes he proclaims " Wow I have no idea why I didn't want to come for a ride I'm having such a great time"

I almost fell off my bike.

So I finish sweeping and firmly step inside to get everyone ready for some time in the park. The living room is deserted. It seems they can read my mind........

Not Safe For Children

I need a filter. Maybe even a seven second delay button just like the one they use on radio. Just enough for someone to hit the dump button as I say something that whilst probably true or correct should not be spoken aloud in front of the current audience.

I'm like the Internet ask me something and I'll tell you and whilst it may not be totally accurate or quite what you expected, I'm going to tell you anyway, some times with out even pausing to think about who is standing nearby or listening.

I don't do it to be annoying or even just to see what the reaction will be. I just believe that, if you ask me I'll tell you. Especially if the little dudes ask. I don't want them subjected to the same urban legends that went around when I was a kid.

You know the ones - McDonald's thick shakes are really rendered pig fat or Mentos and Coke mixed in your stomach will kill you.

Or that kids going down water-slides used to stick pieces of razor blade to the slide with chewing gum for the next person coming down.

The best part about my two dudes is they are fanatical about MythBusters so they are pretty switched on anyway.

I can't stand the fact that people dress things up or try and soften it up for kids. They are people and deserve our respect. Plus I'd rather set 'em straight than have someone at school with an older brother or sister tell them in a Chinese whisper fashion. Within reason of course.

One of the challenges I have is that I have an opinion on everything, I love market researchers when they call. Mainly because I will take their call and discuss with them my opinion. So I tend to enjoy reading a lot and by default gather all sorts of facts and snippets and file them away for a rainy day.

The beloved even once bought a T-Shirt for me just like this.

So as you can now begin to see that it will all start out with a conversation innocently enough but some how ends up in a place we shouldn't be. I'm not trying to start trouble here but just set the boys straight.

I humbly submit the following as an example :

So the eldest is trying to be cool and throws the word porn into a sentence. So I stop and I say to him. "Don't say that"
Any way I go on " Porn is just like films, it isn't really real . They are all actors and are paid "

Now of course I should have stopped there.

Should have.

But didn't.

I went on "Yeah you know, they have make up, lighting experts, camera experts etc. Just like films. And they have to wax you know".

My brain catches up .02 milliseconds later.

The silence is deafening. He then gets look on his face that belies that blinding realisation where they wax. I yell at the youngest " Go upstairs now !" He scuttles out. The Beloveds head is buried deep in her hands. It takes another 3 minutes to extricate my self from the conversation and get it back on an even keel.

I eat the remainder of my dinner in silence.

All I was trying to do was set him straight. That what he thinks it is is actually not true. People don't behave like that in relationships.
And somehow ended up way past the point I was making.

Now I know why the saying "The road to hell is paved with good intention" is apt.

It's fine he's 9 ish.....

This reminds me of the old days that seem so far away. Helping calm crying babies. Staying out of the way of crying babies, you get the picture.

I'm lucky. My kids are old enough now to :

1) get their own breakfast
2) not require round the clock surveillance attention.
3) manipulate articulate what they want

On the flip side they're old enough to probably burn down the house with a wayward piece of toast.

Anyway after recently attending an adolescent talk provided by the school, delivered to ensure we are appropriately terrified of the oldest sons future behaviours, I was fondly remembering all the fun we had when he was younger. Don't get me wrong he's still fun but just punctuated with random bouts of surly teenagerness (yes that is a word). It's like a little peek into what's ahead.

And I still have the little one ( 9 yrs old  trying to be 12) and thankfully he still needs me for all sorts of things. I did however notice that I kinda just do things for the little guy as if in some vain hope that he will just be always this way.

Whilst I'm supposed to be assisting him to begin to make decisions for himself, I'm just having trouble letting go right now.

So I'm off to tie his shoes laces and make sure his lunch is packed, because he is only 9 ish and he needs his Dad.

And no amount of comments will dissuade me otherwise.

People take Football very seriously

I watch the cameras being tested and focused, the camera men making sure all the angles can be covered and nothing missed.
I watch the coaches and assistant coaches with magnetic boards in deep discussion with football managers and other support staff on final player positions.
I watch intently as the players complete there drills and warm ups and move into their final huddle before the game.

These are all the things that we love about AFL football. That pre-game excitement.

Then - the bell goes and the ball is bounced.

What ? What do you mean it's a siren and not a bell ?

You know I'm talking about under 9's footy right ?

image courtesy of blog.smilebebe.com

Confused ?

And all of those things described above actually happened. Not from our team of course.

Picture this, there's a coffee gently warning my right hand and my jacket is clutched firmly in my left as I look out over the field. It's Sunday morning and time for footy. The Youngest and his team are peppering the goals with footballs and the parents are chatting away on the sidelines.

Yet the opposition team seem to have an entire support team to rival any AFL teams, busily preparing for the match.

But I digress. Watching these kids play is great because -

a) They're outside and in running around in what Melbourne mostly passes as fresh air.
b) They're playing a team sport which is forcing them to work together to get an outcome.

I can not ask for any more. Well I can, I need decent coffee. But as Grandpa on the Go always said - "if you want it done right then you're probably going to have to do it yourself. So I now make my own coffee in a travel  sippee cup.

The Youngest has been put in the mid field which seems to mean anywhere on the ground the ball is. It also seems to mean go where ever all the wettest and stickiest mud is and tackle people there.
He does well, except for a couple of moments where he skips around a bit looking like he is having way to much fun.

image courtesy of jeffdowsing.wordpress.com

I'd say the opposition will have to edit that bit out of their very serious post match review, before the other kids find out.

Anyway despite being a few men short and facing a difficult slope in the ground away from the goals they notch up a win.

They march off the ground arms around each other singing the club song at the same decibel level of air-planes taking off, smiles wider than the grand canyon.

There is a post match game discussion which seems to be more about giving out chocolates and footy cards than the serious business of post match dissection. But everyone gets praised and all achievements are duly noted - including The Youngest attempting to ride the full back like a donkey head first in to the ground.

We wrap him up in a towel and off we go home.

And next Sunday I'll do it all again, because after all this is bloody serious you know.........

Toilet roulette and road trips

We all know how fond of road trips I am. I see them as the last great travel method (apart from trains which I love). When I think about the road trips I've taken I always have a smile on my face. Don't get me wrong, there are portions of these trips I am sure that my brain has deliberately suppressed- the mind numbing stretches of straight road and more recently the kids niggling each other as we get close to the 10 minute concentration span they currently possess. So we have developed different ways to pass the time in the car  to ensure my blood pressure stays at a reasonable level.

Before I do that lets picture this  : Grand Pa on the Go and the family driving through The Death Valley into Nevada and to keep us entertained ( there were no radio stations) constantly re playing  Sesame Street cassette tapes that we could sing along to.

All 9 of them. Over and Over. Here's an updated version of one of these little treasures

How my parents stayed sane still mystifies me to this day. I see this as the true definition of hard core parenting.

image courtesy of  freefoto.com

If you wish to avoid this and are not interested in an in-car DVD's (or hard core parenting ) you need car games. Here's just two that we use :

The test of Patience - See how many games of eye spy you can play before you lose it completely.
The Crudity test - How many number plates you can turn into words before you resort to vulgar or slang words.
You get the idea.

Many years ago Grand Pa on the Go decided that we were all going to go to Noosa Heads. He was to attend a conference and we would stay on for a while as a family holiday.
This was back way , way, way before it became the thriving Mecca for tourists it is today.  The plan was simple we would drive up the Newell Highway on the way there to arrive quickly and come back along the coast on the way home.

Imagine my delight when I was told I was to sleep on the couch in the living room. Right in front of the TV.  Nothing can go wrong, its bolted to the wall - right ?

I'm sure my disappointment was evident when he trotted off to the car and produced a set of spanners, unbolted the TV, wheeled it into their room leaving me alone in the dark. It still ended up a great holiday and due to the very large pile of beach towels strategically placed between my sister and I by our wise parents the trip home was fine and by now we had graduated to the soundtrack of Grease - The movie.

One of the other treats of the road trip is discovering things. Like discovering that the red food dye in skittles made the Eldest break out in hives. A short trip to a doctors and some anti-histamines rectified this and we soon were back on our way.

Toilet stops are an inescapable part of the travel. You can say 100 or even 1000 times to your children - "take it easy and don't drink that 600ml Coke/Big M/ Gatorade all in one go"

 OR you could just not let them have it.

But for a father of my considerable experience , that's just the easy way out. I like the challenge of the roadside toilet roulette.

image courtesy of abc.net.au

There is nothing like pulling up to a toilet like the one above and opening the door for the first time and in that split second working out  how bad you really have to go. The beloved has passed on many occasions.

The reality of these trips is you will see more of Australia than you ever will by strapping yourself in a giant steel tube and allowing some guy you don't know hurtle you through the air at in-human speeds, to then bounce your way to another place.

And with all the global turmoil and strife sometimes the simple act of taking a photo of the kids, standing next to a roadside marker that was left behind by Bourke and Wills, and the expression on their faces expresses the true gravity and boredom excitement of the moment, is sometimes just priceless.

"Hey can some one help me with this ?"

As your children start to progress through the schooling system the level of output required grows. The schooling system set challenges that carefully measure the child and the learning stage that they are at so as to ensure they are ready to progress to the next level (actually its about ensuring they fit on to some bureaucratized bell chart , but that's a separate lecture).

I'm referring here specifically to the classic school project.

When did school projects get so complicated ? When I was of a schooling age the project was on something like Ancient Egypt  or a major river system and off I would go to procure a  large piece of cardboard and map out in pencil what I was going to do. Then came the cool part, I was allowed to cut up National Geographic magazines for the photos. Finished of with some neat penmanship on faint pencilled lines and the job was done.

This was held up by two students while you walked the class through you research and subsequent learning. If it was judged to be of worthy quality it would be stuck up on the wall for all to see, with the rest deemed unworthy sent home to be retired quietly.

Nowadays, that would simply not do.

Oh No, the projects are hideously complicated and involve multiple outputs and mediums. They also come with a university level marking sheet for each component that you have to follow nor risk losing valuable points.

Nothing shocked me more than watching a recent project come together that involved watching TV ( this still baffles me ) a survey and a written report and thinking it was done, when he announced  "So now we have to make a video " ! " Can you help me ?"

Wait a what ?

Really ?

But what I have noticed is that once again competitiveness creeps in.

No - not from the kids.

From us. Yes us the parents.

Take for example the bridge building project. It's a bog standard project for Grade 3 children. You The child is expected to take items from around the house and construct a drawbridge. The rules are simple
1) No Lego can be used.
2) You have to be able to carry it into class ( no bricks or concrete)

It's heaps of fun and uses all the old toilet rolls and tissue boxes you have around the house. However when you arrive on the day of judging at school you can clearly see which parents are in it to win it.
Perfectly engineered bridges that look like they belong in an art gallery are abound.

I mean some of the bridges were clearly designed by engineers. Oh yeah that right half the parents are.

And don't think this is just a localized problem., I was reading a worried parent blogging (  Yes I read other parents blogs, don't look so surprised ) about her son competing against all these other bridges with clearly assisted builds. The comments field quickly filled up with other parents sharing the same dilemma.
Do you help or do you just let their imagination run wild ?

What kind of message does this send to the  kids who are standing there with their pride and joy constructed of paddle pop sticks, string and toilet rolls, all covered in every color of the rainbow ? ( thankfully The Beloved has great color co-ordination for our bridges ) while the others stand there with bridges they don't really understand.

image courtesy of  activiblogkidsactivities.blogspot.com

So after we assisted with the filming of the video, I forceably removed myself from the project. Because after all, I have decided that they will just have to deal with the fact that you don't win everything and you have to learn to do things by yourself.

And I just wanted him to be proud of what he could achieve.

Otherwise the kid will wake up one day and they're 40 and still living at home with you.

And that my loyal readers just aint happening on my watch.

Get out of the way please - I want to hug your mother

As a child I watched my parents do all sorts of exciting things as a married couple. I also watched them continuously attend / deliver all the myriad of activities we excitedly embarked on, from French horn lessons through to breeding Siamese cats.
When you move out of home (much to your parents relief , especially if you are less than 30 years old) you set off to explore the world and find someone to spend the rest of your days with.

If you are lucky enough to find such a some-one, when you first get married it's announcing to the world that not only are you ready and able to look after yourself but that you also believe you have the ability to shoulder the responsibility for another.

When the first child is born suddenly that's all that matters and every thing else is re prioritized. It's like some one hit the Go switch and you're off and running with a vague idea of the route but no map.

You cease to be the couple and immediately become the  parents. You try and try to still be a couple but you get consumed in the hustle and bustle.

Gone are the romantic camping trips .

image courtesy of aber.ac.uk

Gone are sleep ins and slow brunches

Gone are the long dinners and discussions of what the future will look like, because it's here right now - you are in it.

Now that our two are almost teenagers we realised that in the not too distant future we will be retired and will need to spend large volumes of time alone together so we had better get back to basics.
It's so easy to get caught up on the hustle and bustle of being parents that you easily forget about your partner and more often that not yourself. So here is what we are going to do.

Set aside time to be a couple and remind ourselves why we got married and had kids in the first place. (Because lets face it my original idea of raising the kids to be our little slaves has NOT worked out at all.)

We have decided to keep it keep it simple, a little like the army reserve - one night a month and one weekend a quarter.

As a side note date night the first time we tried this our date was over in 30 minutes because we did all the things we would do with the kids :
1) Pick a restaurant that serves entrees, main and desert all at once.
2) Pick a noisy place with service so fast, the food must have been flash fried

So as we walked home we planned the next date a little more carefully.

image courtesy of pureluxury.com

Anyway we figure getting away once a quarter or so should be fine as getting the kids baby sat and planning a night away somewhere can resemble a military campaign.  But I can happily report that after the first effort, I am indeed looking forward to the next one. Even though a) I played Golf and b) It was played in the pouring rain and gale force wind.

So utilising all my knowledge gained from my online amateur psychology degree (that's still in the mail) - I issue the following instructions :

1) Stand up, walk away from the computer.
2) Push any small children / distractions away from your partner (they'll be fine)
3) Give your partner a hug

Repeat as often as required.

Now , I'd better stop messing around here on the Internet and prepare some conversation cards for the next date, I can't afford to run out of stuff to say........

As a Dad you're probably going through something simliar

I often sit and wonder why I'm the only Dad with challenges in raising my kids. I understand there's going to be challenges, that's what makes being a parent so great. But why all the other stuff ?

After all, I was a perfect child who never gave my parents a lick of trouble ever, so why  do mine ? *

image coutesy of themomsbuzz.com

Simple things like getting them to clean their rooms through to complex things like putting more effort into school assignments seemed to be a never ending source of debate  and discussion and you start to wonder  - I am even doing this right ?

And after having another heated discussion with The Eldest son about levels of effort in his homework, I was feeling pretty down. Some days just seem like a never evening military campaign to illuminate the locals and set them on the path of economic freedom. Let us win your hearts and minds or we'll burn your damn huts down, sort of thing.

I wasn't the greatest student so I want to ensure my kids don't make the same mistakes I made and I'm keen to not let them suffer through some past misadventures that I should have definitely have been warned about.

Now the Beloved and I are a fearsome team. We are absolutely on the same side when it comes to the minions. But sometimes being a Dad is kinda like being a light house keeper - You know your job is important, but you never really know if you are doing it right because it's just you.

So what to do ? Who do I talk to ? It's been previously discussed on this blog about the difficulties faced when meeting / talking to other Dads. You certainly don't want to go around exposing your issues to all and sundry.

And I can't talk to Grandpa on the Go about it. The issues he faced with me were different. Or is it just me wanting that to be the case - it's all too hard, so don't worry just keep going .

image courtesy of belleamiemotherofthree.com

What an eye opener it was when I accidentally had lunch one day with another Dad and he confessed to me about having an argument with his son. It was exactly the same argument over exactly the same piece of homework with his son that I had had with mine. We ended up chatting for the entire lunch about these challenges and swapping war stories.

And with that small piece of revelation I started asking questions at every opportunity. Listening and realising that we were all going through the same thing.

Too much {insert video game name here} not enough homework.

Arguing over Internet usage.

Getting them to do chores around the house. It went on.

I  like to see myself as a pretty easy going guy and I try not to be an overbearing Dad. But you have to teach (boys especially) that their are boundaries and limits. And now that I know we can't solve every challenge / crisis but at least there are other Dads with some advice or at the very least a sympathetic ear, I'm back on track.

So now I attend the dinners with other Dads. I'm even thinking about setting some up. And I listen and ask questions every time.

So let me give you one task to do this week - Go find another Dad with similar aged kids to yours and talk to them and even more importantly - Listen.

Who knows you might just be surprised.

* May not be accurate statement

Don't be so quick to judge

Well here it is - the 100th Dad on the Go Post. What a journey it has been ! Thank you to each and everyone of you as loyal readers and followers readers who have supported and encouraged me. And a huge thank you to The beloved whose constant support and regular beatings feedback, have made this blog what it is today. Anyway enough guff lets get on with it.


judg·ment

 

noun

1.

an act or instance of judging.

2.

the ability to judge, make a decision, or form an opinion objectively, authoritatively, and wisely, especially in mattersaffecting action; good sense; discretion: a man of sound judgment.

3.

the forming of an opinion, estimate, notion, or conclusion, as from circumstances presented to the mind: Our judgment as to the cause of his failure must rest on the evidence.

4.

the opinion formed: He regretted his hasty judgment.

One of the harder things to teach your children is not to judge people. It's hard because - well - we do it all the time. It's not hard to do. Look at some one - decide who they - are and what they represent and bang you're done.

In fact we're encouraged to judge people.

Were encouraged by the media to do. They have entire TV shows around it. Look at the Top Model shows, What not To Wear and don't get me started on Masterchef. How they managed to suck the fun out of preparing meals for people beggars belief.

image courtesy of articles.nydailynews.com

The tabloids spend all day telling you how guilty people are and how bad they are even before you have time to get to know them over a cup of tea and 2  minutes on Google search. They specialise in ensuring you form judgements in their prepackaged descriptions of events and people.

Sometimes it can even catch up to you later on.

The beloved was painfully reminded very early on about judgement, when the little fella was in kindergarten and one of the other Mums came in and he exclaimed loudly :

"Look mummy , look at that lady, look she's really really fat ! Mummy look !"

So now we keep our comments to ourselves during The Biggest Loser.

I know its so easy to do, take for example the supermarket car park. As you know from this post it's a tough place. So it's very difficult not to scream out judge, when people are searching for a car park completely oblivious to all the cars behind them that are building up into their own car park.

They stop look and wait. Then repeat that 3 or 4 more times, trying to find the perfect park.

And then when they do find a park, in they slowly go. By now you would have completely worked out who they are and what other ills they have brought to the world during their annoying existence.

How quickly you retreat from your judgement, when they finally get out of your way and  two little old ladies exit the car, whose average age resembles an inner suburban postcode.

And what about when you are walking along the footpath, knowing exactly in your mind where you are going and what you are going to do when you get there- when all of a sudden the person in front of you stops right in the middle of a footpath with out checking who is behind or what the impact is.

Snap judgements form instantly in your mind not to mention the annoyance that you now have.

If you want to see how sensitive to judgement we are - try this little experiment. Next time you are walking down the street pick a person coming the other way toward you.

Got em in sight ? Ok - now look at their face and then at another part of them with out any expression on your face.

And now back a their face and hold their gaze.

See how they self consciously check themselves are draw their coat or jacket around their body or check that their hair is fine. It's because they think you are judging them.

So as I try not to yell and keep my patience I also now have to add not judging people as well to the list of this I have to do. After all I can't have the kids screaming at little old ladies in the car park now can I !





.

Keeping your patience in a modern world.....

Patience (or forbearing) is the state of endurance under difficult circumstances, which can mean persevering in the face of delay or provocation without acting on annoyance/anger in a negative way; or exhibiting forbearance when under strain, especially when faced with longer-term difficulties. Patience is the level of endurance one can take before negativity. It is also used to refer to the character trait of being steadfast.

image courtesy of gregory-g-allen.blogspot.com

Try doing the above now days and see how that goes. The entire modern world is completely set to test the patience of everyone a Dad. It can be as simple as your son getting a gift that requires some time to set-up and once this lengthy process is over he/they proceeds to break it in the first minutes of getting it.

I'm blessed with moderately intelligent children so why do they keep asking the same question a thousand times  ?
If I gave them the answered the first time, I am not,  under a weltering barrage of the same question, changing my mind.
I've now started to pretend to think about changing my mind and watch the little spark of hope grow , only for me to stick to my original answer.

It's the same with their homework. I have to count to 100 each time between the insistence that they do their homework to a reasonable standard whilst they maintain "that's all the teacher wanted". That is not the point, I patiently explain while grinding my teeth down to their roots.

And it flows on further to why should I expect them to not questioning you when you ask them to do something. When I was a kid it was simple your parents asked you to do something and off you went and did it. No questions.
Now days you need a full description of why , what the outcome will be and a range of viable options to get your kids to do anything !

I blame myself.

I have to accept that modern society has taught all of us to expect everything instantly. Take Instant Messaging for example, it was invented because people couldn't wait the 7.51 seconds it takes an email to be delivered.

So you see - No one has to wait - you don't have to have patience any more.

Watch what happens in a line for anything where someone is standing behind the person in front who can't decide what they want. You can literally see their patience wear out.

And don't get me started on road rage. Just walk along any street with traffic and watch people safely ensconced in their shiny metal capulses spluttering in apoplectic rage at each other for no apparent reason.

So what do you do. How do you not go postal over the little things ? I do exactly that. I treat them like little things. It doesn't mean I don't get frustrated or angry - I still do that . But over time I just learn to let the world go about its business because I don't want to be the angry old guy yelling at kids to get off his lawn.

I also take the time to be thankful.

image couresy of happyclippings.com

I'm thankful that I can walk out of the house in the morning and the wife has to get the kids to school via the traffic and inter car debates.

I'm thankful that the beloved has a spreadsheet list for shopping, as nothing can quite explain watching people without a shopping list in the supermarket.
It's like babies in a room full of toys, they go one way then see something shiny and rush the other way only to be distracted again by something red.

So as you make your way through this day and the next, look around and you will be surprised to see people losing their patience.

Just try not to let it be at you.........

image courtesy of djibnet.com

Dads and supermarket shopping

On the weekends in Coles, Aldi and Wooloworths around this great nation of ours you will often see Dads who would normally not go shopping with their child/ren in tow. I would hazard a guess that the normally patient mother / spouse has given the remaining members of the house a list and sent them packing, in order to get some much needed peace and quiet. So off to the supermarket they traipse, going though the pain of dealing with supermarket car parks and loading / unloading kids.

image courtesy of goodmenproject.com

So how have I reached this grandiose broad sweeping statement ?

Well they are pretty easy to spot. They have a couple of "tells" that give them away.

So here's a quick field guide to the species:

1) Identification - They are carrying a basket not a trolley, clutching a list like it's the 10 commandments and looking around nervously. To assume that anything else besides some bread, milk and a couple of other small items will fit in the basket is where the problems start. Trolleys are a trap and a blessing - it's good they hold so much but this results in you / others being able to add things and not really notice.

2) Environment - They will look pretty lost in the aisles. Not being a regular in the supermarket means they will often wander up and down several aisles looking for one thing before proceeding to the next item on their list. In trying to look like you know what you are doing, the exact opposite is usually conveyed.

3) Behavior Patterns - They will keep checking what the kids are doing or actually looking for the child/ren. When they find the actual listed item they are looking for they will spend an inordinate amount of time trying to decide which brand or price point they are supposed to choose. Then will often display confusion as the child/ren may offer suggestions like " that's not the one Mommy buys ! "

4) Checkout - At this point they are feeling a cross between stressed and relief that the end is in sight. A few more looks at the list to re-assure themselves that all is well. They will often miss the chocolate / treat free aisle that assist with the inevitable " daddy can we have.....". That always takes a few minutes to resolve.

image courtesy of parentsask.com

And then off they toddle with bags and kids in tow to the car park and out into the bright daylight that signals freedom.

As a regular supermarket shopper I feel for them. I remember the first time I was allowed to go by myself. I think I came home with $200.00 of "stuff " and most it was not on the list I had been supplied with. Over time I was trained in the art of shopping for a) the budget and b) what we would actually consume.

I really feel fore these guys. I can assure you that no where in "What to expect when you are expecting " or any book in that series does it explain or even hint at this kind of stuff.

And when I see them struggling, I just  want to take them gently by the hand and show them that the Pecans are in aisle 5.

So I never laugh and never sneer in derision when they don't know.

I just remind my self to drag out the minions and show them how to shop to live well.

Use it or lose it

I first  heard this statement when I was very young. It seemed such a "throwaway" line that could apply to almost anything.

Did it mean that if I didn't play with every one of my toys my parents would throw them out ?

Did it mean that things that sat in the corner of the house never being used would disappear ?
The whole thing just didn't make sense.

When I was in my teens , it seemed to be more a saying just for old people who sat around all day or office workers who sat behind their shiny Commodore 64's, after all  I was an over active teenager doing everything.

When I was in my twenties I was fine with it as I was still relatively active. My social life was taking off, so I was still doing all sorts of stuff. In fact I barely even thought about it.

When I was in my thirties I thought I was doing fine. But the when I look back at the photos - I was a big guy. Too much of a good time was being had.

And certainly very little activity was going on.

The Beloved and I got married and along came the kids and I started to get active again. After all try being sedentary with two boys and see how that goes.

So I've always tried to get some activity in to what ever were doing even down to simply trying to ride or walk to work.  We even try to ensure holidays encompass some physical activity. But when its 3 degrees outside and raining, the urge is somewhat lessened.

And how many of us have set out the training gear the night before and mentally decided what we're going to do, gone to bed only to wake up in the morning and have no difficulty saying  to ourselves - tomorrow.

So when I discovered this article This is the full study I was impressed. Somebody had actually taken the time to look at the old adage and see if it was true. A simplified version can be found here This is the Explain it like I'm Five version and it fuelled me on to continue being active.

Which leads me to why I am at the start line of what is arguably one of the more difficult things to do on a Sunday - a Triathlon.

The start line is at St Kilda beach and I have to really try not to worry about swallowing any water as it will probably kill me with all the crap that's apparently in it.

image courtesy of jenius.com.au

I'm wearing a fluoro orange bathing cap and seem to be the only person not wearing a wetsuit. There's a lovely southerly blowing ensuring I'm not only the coldest person there but also the whitest.

I'm sucking my stomach in and hoping that the others around me with chiseled abs are doing the same thing.

The waves on the water look little but the groups already in the water ahead of me look a bunch of black socks in a washing machine.

An hour and a bit later I'm done.

And I mean done.

Individually each activity is fine, but when you put them all together in one event the whole dynamic changes.

I did learn a couple of things along the way such as :

- You can't eat a muesli bar whilst riding a bike at 35 kph. Which is probably why they make everything for athletes in that disgusting, easy to consume "gel". Oh and by the way its not gel - its more like really thick snot.
- Always organise someone to pick you up from your event. It's very, very difficult to ride home afterwards.

So as I lay out my bike gear for the next days exercise, I wonder what the early morning discussion in my brain will sound like.......

Go
or
Not going..........

Dealing with Loss

I don't deal well with loss.

There I said it.

I really hate it when I had something and then I don't. Or worse when someone else had something and now no longer does.  ( I'm glaring at the moment at the other occupants of the house ). I know I'm not alone.

Nothing frustrates me more than when someone loses something of yours. And don't get me wrong I'm not just focusing on the cost of goods now days. Even though thirty years ago you could by 20cents of mixed lollies and they would last the walk home.
Now you have to by $20 dollars worth and hope the 8 lollies you get, last the drive home or an inter-car boxing tournament will break out.

No - I'm talking about caring. I think that if you're upset about the loss then you care.

Image courtesy videosonar.com

I once had a physical altercation with the refrigeration because I though it had lost my squeezy bottle of Dijonaise (you know the one Adrian Richardson advertises ?) Why , because I care. Plus that stuff is awesome on sandwiches.

It's quite frustrating seeing that look of  "Oh well I'll have to get another one " just drives me nuts.

It's not OK. You lost it.

Think about when you were at school. At the start of the year you are given beautiful fresh books, a set of pens, paper,pencils coloured pencils, Textas and an array of sharpeners erasers etc.

But by the middle of the year whats left ? 3 Half chewed HB pencils, 4 Textas with no lids and some of the coloured pencils.

Image courtesy of mypigeonpair.blogspot.com

Now I get why my Father would get so cranky about me leaving his tools around the yard. He expected that if I would use them then I would afford the tool the usual courtesy of returning it to where it came from.

The issue is for a long time I was under the impression that if I left something in a certain spot that was because I would know to go back there to get it.

Let me illustrate how it works :

I get home and I want to change out of my "good " clothes into something comfortable ( for a long time this was just my jocks ) so I take of the good clothes and leave them on the floor. Exactly where I will be able to find them again later.

Why ? Because that way they will be where I could find them when I next need them.

Now let me illustrate how this all fell apart:

When the beloved first moved in she had commented that my "filing system " of on the floor was not suitable. I took this as "advice " ie It wasn't a set in stone rule. After a few more mentions, I had left clothes etc on the floor and then gone out to work. When I came home my clothes and other items left on the floor were now in the yard under a sprinkler.

The system was abandoned in favour of the new "advice".

So now I patiently try to teach the Minions that yes you can use my stuff and no you cannot leave it where ever you think you will remember it.

And I wonder how my Father put up with it all.......

The hidden Squirrel in you.

When something breaks nowadays you probably throw it out as it usually can't be fixed ( well at least it can't be fixed for less than what it initially cost you). Or you just shove it in a drawer or cupboard to get to later.
It wasn't always like this, you used to be able to repair things. In fact it was a mark of your ability to be able to be a useful husband / father in the future.

Like a peacock displaying it's feathers to gain a suitable mate, husbands/fathers to be must be able to demonstrate a working knowledge of everyday repair capabilities. This list examines that.

In order to repair things however, you need to build up a store of parts which often means just hanging on to some really broken stuff to strip for parts. It's a fine line because you don't want to keep everything - that's something different- but just enough to be useful.

Image courtesy of aricsherbie.blogspot.com

Hoarding is a listed medical condition. It is more often listed as Pathological collecting and is best described as the excessive acquisition and inability or unwillingness to discard large quantities of objects that would seemingly qualify as useless or without value. Compulsive hoarding  is also apparently associated with health risks, impaired functioning, economic burden, and adverse effects on friends and family members. I would say that's because you have to put all that stuff somewhere. 

When I was a kid I began to learn that my Dad kept a lot of stuff, he never seemed to throw anything away. I'm certainly not saying he is a compulsive hoarder and if I ever wanted to build/fix something he seemed to have a part of the things required.

But........

I did notice a couple of odd things

There seems to be eight  broken washing machines hidden under the house along with the half used cans of paint when he painted the house - 20 years ago.

He has a hobby farm that is liberally bursting at the seams with odds and ends. We once bought a pile of scrap iron and steel at a clearing sales because it had the one piece we needed. Mind you straight after the sale was complete a lovely lady came over and bought a bucket of horse shoes from our pile, for $5.00 which coincidentally was the price we paid for the whole pile !

Dad was for ever reusing stuff such as re-straightening nails to use again, picking up stuff from the hard rubbish collection in the middle of the night (which drives Mum nuts). My current lawnmower was on a hard rubbish pile and was "saved", refurbished and now works like a charm - if taking 30 minutes to start and making the same amount of noise as a Formula One car and blowing smoke constantly is counted.

When we were pulling down our old house he kept the whole lot to re-use the timber somewhere else. He still has some of it.

I assumed that I was fine and that I would not wake up one day with washing machines under the house. However when The Wife to be  first moved in I had 100's of drink coasters I had collected, which was a worry as I don't remember why I was doing that or when I had collected them.

I also started picking up discarded things from hard rubbish piles that I had decided could be fixed. Now I actively stop myself. It just got too hard to hide it all from the Beloved.

And don't think you're all perfect , we've all got "that drawer" or cupboard that is full of everything and everything, that we're always going to "clean up one of these days". It has all the things we have hoarded collected over the years and it's usually in the kitchen or in our case also under the stairs.

image courtesy of learning2coupon.com

You know why you haven't gotten to it yet -because some times it's just to hard to decide what should stay and what should go.

So now when I approach something that is going to have to go , I silently say to myself  "What would Dad keep?"