All the small things, true care, truth brings

As with most things in life the passage of time either adds a new perspective on things or completely distorts the view of them. So it is with precisely that in mind that I approach the fact that my marriage is now over.

As you know I am extremely passionate and sometimes have a hard time letting things go that aren't right or that have managed to creep under my skin. Take for example the following - You are trying to cook an egg for someone you love. The yolk bursts and the egg in your view is ruined by the fact it is so old and isn't perfect like Nigella's , did you ever stop to think that maybe they were just happy you were cooking them an egg ?

The harder I tried to make everything perfect, the more difficult it became to create the image of how I thought it should all be.

credit http://blog.williams-sonoma.com/simply-nigella-cookbook/

As much as I try I can only see that I missed all the little things that needed to be said or done and focused on what I thought should be done, so by that omission it was this that moved us apart. And it happened so quickly.

The most interesting thing that has come out of the contemplation and soul searching post the separation, is all the things you thought were important - aren't - and the little things that have always been there (but been taken for granted) are suddenly the most important thing.

But I can assure you that as devastated as I am, this is not a pity post nor a raised flag for sympathy. This is is just the state of play, it's the truth of where in 2017 I am. Still a Dad, still healthy and upright - just a different location and surroundings.

Along with new added challenges and a new operating reality we'll now need  to balance the boys between two houses, negotiate holidays, decide which family functions are mandatory attendance and the list goes on. But of course parental solidarity will still be mandatory, although a lot harder , but mandatory nonetheless to continue to allow the boys to continue to grow and mature.

My mantra for at least a little while is going to be, I'm not going to be angry at myself or get down and I will talk to friends and family. In the meantime its on wards and upwards as best we can.

Given its now been 3 years since I posted , it is well time to resume writing and stop procrastinating. It's also well time to do things I should have done and try things that should be tried ( except parachuting, there is never a valid reason to jump from a perfectly good plane with bar service).


And as the Blink 182 songs says

 Say it ain't so, I will not go Turn the lights off, carry me home

Cats in the Cradle

I awake with a jolt.

For a moment I can't move , I'm strapped in.

I'm fine - I'm sitting in a plane, now wide awake with 5 hours flying time to go. Sleeping on planes isn't too hard as long as you follow the routine - Eat the mediocre - high calorie food, watch some mediocre in flight shows ( heavily edited and redacted ) and once they turn down all the cabin lights you should nod off.

And yet here I am.

As noted in the last post - the new job - whilst progressing very well and being immensely interesting, has thrown up some challenges not previously experienced. Which therefore has not allowed me to dip into the bag of Dad knowledge and produce easy to implement solutions, which can be re-created here for your digestion.

This is disconcerting.

I was at the kids Saturday sport once and a parent said - "Love the blog but make sure you keep giving us advice " or something to that effect. (Which proves someone reads this)

So I know that the uncomfortable feeling of not knowing quite what to do will hopefully produce something we can all use....

The most noticeable challenge currently is that the amount of travel that I thought was mentioned in the interview seems to have exponentially grown.

After each trip away - I have found that inserting my self back in to the family rhythm after anywhere between 7 to 14 days away is proving slightly more difficult that I thought. It's not just the fact that you essentially travel alone and apart from meetings and conference calls,  the level of inane chit chat that a family does is greatly reduced.

And compounding this is because you have no one to bounce idea's off you  have these internal conversations that are completely validated by your own perceptions with no external input ( very dangerous)

In the mean time the family have of course continued on doing what they do , minus me. So when I return I'm like an outsider for the first few days fumbling around in my own home trying to adjust to any changes that happened sans me.

And the assumption is now , that I could have to travel again,  everyone thinks in much shorter periods of time , when I am actually around so we tend to try to accelerate the solution / outcome. This seems to be due to a now recognition that the periods of time together to resolve life's challenges are going to shorter than previous and that travel could occur again at any time putting on hold all sorts of things.

So how do I adjust for that ? We have a number of communication points in place that the boys can use to reach out to me and of course with today's technology it seems to be getting simpler.

But here's a learning point - Timing.

I've always tried to convince people that in order for clear  communication to take place you are going to have to communicate in way that they feel comfortable in. I now want to add to this - the timing. So for example if you try to communicate with your family at a time of high stress such as getting ready for school - you re going to have a bad time.

This of course doesn't help you if you need a chat because you've had a good/bad/frustrating day and want to talk to the people who understand you the best. So a little understanding will have to come in to play.

In the mean time I'll try to get back in the swing of things with the family and rest safe in the knowledge that we all know deep in our hearts that our families are the one place we are loved unconditionally. We just have to ask politely.....

Hopefully now I can stop waking up with "Cats in the Cradle" in my head......

Well, at least they didn't take that.....

One of the things they don't teach you in school or anywhere for that fact is - about being robbed.

And of course they don't because they assume the best about the world - just like parents who play pass the parcel and ensure everyone gets a prize.
But the reality is that for some of us, it will happen. And for some of us it will happen more than once.

I'm talking here about your house - not your kids under 12 football teams issues with bad umpiring by the way.

No one explains to you that sinking feeling in your stomach when you get home ( or worse wake up in the morning) and realize that - someone you don't know and didn't invite in - has been into your house and not only gone through your stuff but taken things that are yours.

On a side note I've often wondered that if they don't take stuff that you think is  valuable - does that mean it's crap ? I mean apart for photos and the like it's a bit of a blow to the ego if you think about it.

I've had the displeasure of being robbed many times, as I live in a suburb that is a bit of a magnet for people who need money for things that enrich their life ( so their brains are telling them anyway) and have no way to fund this, other than removing your stuff and exchanging it for cash at a significantly lower exchange rate than when you first purchased it.

Nowadays with improved security and an increase in the median house value, that propensity has decreased some what. But it doesn't mean they aren't still trying to get to my priceless odd sock collection.

And after the 3rd time it happens you kinda just fall into a routine - calling the police, the insurance company, the banks etc, but once you have kids it becomes very different. They don't have any experience to fall back on for this new problem.

This experience is new and terrifying. They figured you would keep them safe. They figured you would shield them from the evils of the world. ( they know it exists, just not in their area )

So all of a sudden just like I did when it happened to my parents, they realise they have to go through this.

The last time it happened to us it was a mini home invasion, they picked the  front door lock grabbed all the purses and wallets neatly laid out on the sideboard ( see where being organised gets you ! ) with the car keys and my sports gear and none of us (including Captain Incontinence ) were any the wiser.

I still fail to see the point of a guard dog that can not do exactly that, but anyway. We still live in hope that all the running around the back yard barking at the pigeons in the trees is basic training and will one day transform into preemptive 24hr protection.

If you think that some days your dealings with bureaucracy is difficult - try proving who you are to someone in the government without a single piece of identification. So it went like this - to get a temporary license you need photo ID, but the only photo ID I had was my license I explained to the brick wall.

The funniest part of the whole thing really came when the beloved came to pick me up from a triathlon in the hire car that resembled a pregnant roller-skate.
I basically had to disassemble my bike, fold all the seats flat, shove all the gear in around that and then make the kids walk home.

And then after they declared our much loved 4WD a write off due to " Bio Hazards present in vehicle " it's off we go to find a new vehicle to transport the ridiculous amount of things we seem to need to take when we go anywhere. Buying a car is a whole different matter and more than enough for a separate post.

We went through the whole unpleasant and came out the other side - hopefully - an awful lot wiser.

And I think the boys now understand that sometimes you might get none of your things back and sometimes you get back someone else's size 12 bikini.

At least they didn't take my odd socks, so the search for their lost mates continues........

I am not just a wallet and a couch

As I climb out of bed in the dark and traipse off to the kitchen to put on the coffee, the house is quiet and I realise this is what it's going to be like in a few more years. The house is clean. I don't trip over anything and it smells faintly of vanilla.

image courtesy of www.flickr.com and Terry Trevithick

It's just me and the beloved.
Oh, and that idiot dog who gets up to go to the toilet more times that an incontinent grandparent. 

I'm OK with that , I married her because quite frankly we never stop chatting and we have always discussed what it will be like when we retire , what we will do,  where we will go - because I think that as parents we are going  find it difficult staying relevant as the kids get older.

At least until they need to move back home because they are building a house or renovating and have nowhere to live. (At which point I will have to start wearing pants again…..)

So do they still need me ?

Of course they do - who else is going to pay for the 1.2 kg of Weet bix and 15 litres of milk they go through each week. Not to mention the fact that if I wasn't around the would run out of clean plates and cutlery in the first day. And don't even start on the clothes portion of their lives.

I'm not saying that I'm completely irrelevant I'm just saying that there’s a new phase coming and I want to be ready (You know the Beloved, she'll  want a backup plan for the back up plan) because emotionally it's going to be tough.

When I get home each night from work nowadays, there isn't those two cheeky little grins screaming "daddy's home !" , "daddy's home !" and clinging to a leg each as I greet the house, now the only person happy to see me is the dog, and I think that’s because I bring in the smells of the world with me or at least the vague promise of food.

I remember back when, once I hit 15 my parents were the people “so lame” and it wasn't until I was a 20 something that I realised I really do need them and they weren't just some extra furniture that was handy to crash on whenever I felt like it. And that was when I really started to have a proper relationship with them, you know each side putting in and getting out equally. 

We have set about the kids next phase of their life and are starting to make them independent. We can’t wrap them up in cotton wool ( otherwise they will make terrible husbands and live with us forever) they have to learn how to be functioning members of planet earth. We know this.

But it’s happening just so damm fast. They cab catch trams , make lunch and even breakfast. ( none of this gets done without intimidation effort and prompting and guiding.) But anyway they seem to be grasping some concepts.

So I guess for the time being I'll just focus on keeping my expectations low and focus on being there when they need me.

I was at a Rugby match to watch the Eldest and I swear to you the u/15’s team were still finishing shaving whilst getting out of the cars they had driven to the ground – They look like grown men.

image courtesy of www.albany.edu

I point out to the Beloved that this what we have to look forward to and we share a little wistful glance at our youngest son playing under a tree.
While the rest of the world sees a boy poking a dead pigeon with a stick to see what will happen  - we see a little boy still curious about the world.

Tomorrow morning he can have 3 Weet Bix instead of the 6 he normally has, maybe that will slow things down a bit……..

Tactics and teenagers

This episode is bought to you by the letter T and the number 6

Ever wondered how some parents seem to be able to get there kids to do things and others just seem to be constantly yelling at their kids ( and each other) ?

Picture this - two meth addict parents with a 3 year old in a stroller are at a major intersection waiting to cross. There are probably 15 other people waiting to cross this road as well. The lights change but the pedestrian lights do not and everybody is forced to wait another set of lights change until the green man is presented and they can all cross.

The mother proceeds to yell at the father all the way across the lights about how "All these fu#@%ers didn't bother to fu@$#en push the fu*%^ button to cross the fu*+!@ lights".
"They were fu%$#en standing there the whole fu&#$%en time and not one of them fu*&^%en tried.

The father is trailing behind her and  is profusely apologising the whole time. They disappear down the road with her still swearing that this is the problem with the world today.

I tell you this story because I didn't stop laughing  for about a day and in fact I still laugh about it. The child in the stroller , with her head rotating furiously from side to side in an effort to see her parents arguing behind her was learning.

She was learning tactics for getting by in the world. Now, you and I both know they are entirely wrong but that's what I'm getting at.

I have found that if you just yell at or nag or berate your child to do something then you are probably either not going to get it done or just end up with a resentful situation.

image courtesy of de.wikipedia.org

Tactics are becoming increasingly important in our lives as well , with a teenager (added hormones included ) and a potential teenager lurking behind him - just watching the interactions.

No longer do mindless incentives work

Pleading does not work

Berating does not work

If / then statements do not always work

However parental unity is still working ( I think this is a fundamental underpin of the universe , so I'm confident it won't change any time soon). As long as we both stay firm with the decisions the desired result is achieved.

I'm finding we have to get to the solution and  make him feel good about himself that the choice is right and he was involved in the trip to get there.

It's delicate as the pressure from being in Year 7 has quadrupled from Year 6 and it's a jungle out there. New kids in the class along with all the other kids jockeying for position. Getting around a larger school area and all of a sudden timing is important as well as having all the right books and equipment.

So no matter how much you prep your child for senior school sometimes the shock of the vastness of the whole thing can be just overwhelming

But we won't tiptoe around it , he has to learn that sometimes no matter what - you have to push on as I don't want him to be afraid of a challenge and I don't want him to grow up risk averse. i.e. if it's too hard or someone tells you its too difficult they give up with out even attempting.


It's the same way we let him let him do what some parents would class as dangerous now days like catching public transport by himself.

Just as you're tired from school / sport it is the same as if you're at work and tired, there are deadlines and expectations.

This of course can be dangerous - its kinda like balancing a hand-grenade on a knife- you know its going to go off you just don't know which direction and when. Especially if you're tired or not 100% focussed on what you doing with them at the time.

And as tempting as it is to tell them how everything will end up or what will happen when the do something you know that  you can tell them until they're blue in the face but until they learn themselves.

On the flip side we have learned that you can, with some degree of success, put 2 minute noodles in a bagel and eat it.

So where do the letter T and the number 6 come in ?

T is for tactics, get them right and you on a winner.

The number 6 is the current number of times you have to ask to get him to brush his teeth and put deodorant on.

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.....

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.

The Etiquette of staying at someone else's house

As I walk home past the park full of children football playing in the twilight I am reminded that it will soon be Spring and that brings about the prospect of holidays. As an evangelical proponent of family holidays and driving holidays for that matter, it's inevitable that you are going to have to stay at some point in someone else's home. After all travelling and not visiting any friends in the area would be a little rude, not to mention embarrassing if they find out. (And yes we found out )

Having been on both sides of this delicate coin I can tell you it can go wrong really quickly and really spectacularly. So to avoid this we have developed a couple of strategies.

Staying at someone else's houses really requires a bit of chameleon like behaviours from everyone as you are going to need to assimilate yourselves in to someone else's routines. Not to mention the acceptance of their idiosyncrasies.

The first thing to do before arriving is shopping. No -  not for shoes or clean underwear, they should already be packed. You need to bring food.

In saying that showing up with 36 eggs and 2 kgs of bacon may be interpreted as  "We're concerned about what you are going to serve us for the rest of the day so were filing up early."

Its also not a great idea to request meals other than the one being prepared. It's not a restaurant eat it or don't eat it, I don't care. I'm not meaning to sound rude about it but if you're on holidays the last thing you need is to spend hours in the kitchen.

And no I am not separating the components of stew to only the bits you like, so don't bother asking.

As good a cook as you are , you should only intervene in cooking if the dish/meal is in real danger - of catching on fire.

image courtesy of accessnorthga.com

And of course the golden rule - never touch another mans barbecue unless invited. Even if he severs part of his arm during the cooking - wait until invited as he may choose to cook on through.

In regards to sleeping arrangements, be prepared is my motto for this. When people stay with us we have spare mattresses everywhere, but not everyone has this or the space to accommodate them.
I never have laughed so much at the kids starting out on a nice inflated bed only to wake up in the morning as part of a giant blue child sandwich.

If you have a favourite pillow or have paid more than $10 for the pillow you currently use, by all means take it along.

Cleaning again is something that you should only help where you can. Unless you have the wording of a  career diplomat I would avoid telling someone you are going to mop the floors as this may just come across as a criticism of their current living conditions.

That being said if you have just finished a meal with children and there is more food on the floor than the table it may be OK. Unless they have a dog or a baby- both of which are viable alternatives to vacuum cleaners.

image courtesy of allcouponcodes.info

One of the odd things we noticed has been our/other children travelling in kids travelling in someone else's car to destinations. Nothing is quite as odd as children deciding which car they are going to drive in. This is made all the more amusing when they choose a couple without children. And by amusing I mean for the couple as the children divulge all manner of private conversations about you and your daily routines.

I'm now almost home and the evening sky has started to show some stars and the smell of dinners cooking is creeping around the quietly parked cars. I know that for the time being, I wont have to adjust my routine and that - for the moment - is just the way I like it.

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.........

"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........

A new pot and and the break up

This weeks culinary post involves change in our lives. The (now ritual) Sunday night cook up with the youngest son has branched out nicely with such dishes as hand made gnococci with 4 types of mushroom sauce and even a lasagne with 7 types of roasted meat in it. In the search for new dishes, new authors are sought out and this week a Chinese dish was presented for production.

Regardless of how you view me, at heart - I'm Lazy guy.

This means if I can only use one pot then all good. If not I will immediately invoke the " I cooked you have to clean" rule. This is especially true if it was a messy dish that required every pot and pan in the house.

So the idea of a one pot meal has intrigued me greatly. The main problem is I have never had a "one pot"

Its something that has eluded me until now. I was admiring an earthen ware pot in the store near me, the sales lady called out to me from behind the counter " Very good pot, can do everything" then I thought what the assistant then said was "one is in Chinese and one is in English, you need the English one" So I started sorting the boxes in to piles of Chinese marked boxes and English marked boxes. Turns out what she actually said was " one side is in Chinese and the other side is in English just turn the box over"

Now I have to throw out something out because the cupboard is full and because clutter is not good
As per this post you need to be organised you can't keep everything. Problem is I'm chicken.

I don't know which item to move out in the cupboard to make room for my new baby.

So I delegated the task. I left the pot on the bench above the cupboard and waited. And as per standard operating procedure, the beloved cleaned the cupboard and found room for the pot. The mere fact that something did not have a place was just too much for her to bear.

So now I don't have the guilt of having to look at the pot or item that was discarded and say " Thanks but it's time we broke up as I need to use other pots "

Its essentials a win / win situation.

I'm just to soft when it comes to this sort of thing.

Anyway on the the recipe.

2 Brown onions chopped
50g ginger
some coriander stalks chopped
3 cloves of garlic
60ml oil
1.25 kg of shin or brisket cut into 4cm chunks
2 tsp Chinese 5 spice powder
6 star anise
1 tsp peppercorns
1/2 cup of brown sugar
1/4 cup light soy sauce + 2 tsp dark soy sauce
2 tsp tomato paste
700ml beef stock

Jasmine rice to serve.

Preheat the oven to160c

Grind up the ginger, coriander and garlic in to a paste ( I used the mortar and pestle because it's fun )

Heat up the pot on the stove top with the oil, cook the beef for 3-4 mins in batches and set aside.

Lower the heat to about half and cook the paste you made with 1/3 of a cup of water for 3 mins. Add the star anise, five spice and peppercorns, cook for another minute and then add the soy sauces, sugar, tomato paste and the beef. Sir thoroughly and then add the stock so it just covers the beef. Bring to to boil then put on the lid and transfer the pot to the oven for 2.5 hours.

It will look like this - sort of a stew

Remove the beef from the mixture with a slotted spoon and set aside in a warm spot. Boil the remaining sauce on the stove top until it reduces to at least half the volume and thickens up a little.

Put back in the beef  and you're ready to go. Serve with the rice.

I just can't do jail - I'm way too soft

It's decided then.

Jail is just not a place that I can be.

The police are not polite, the guards don't like you, everybody shouts at you all the time and the food is an absolute disaster. Jail is just not a place that a polite middle aged man like me will ever survive.

As I did last year, again this year I have participated in the White Lion Bailout,  to raise much needed funds for disadvantaged youth in trouble and help support the programs that assist them in getting their lives back on track.

As a father of two young men on the way I am keen to help other youngsters find their way in the world without the problems and distractions that come at us  from all directions

Anyway once we had raised the requisite funds through a series of sausage sizzles, lolly sales and raffles we were ready to go.
That's the difference with this event - In order to participate you have to raise the required bail for each team member.

And I have to tell you in this day and age raising funds for charities has become guerrilla warfare. You need to be doing something different to attract donations not only for your charity, but even for your event to raise funds for your charity.
Everyone seems to have " wallet fatigue " for the huge number of charities trying to continue on with the work they do. It's sad that you can't help them all, but you simply have to decide what you are going to do and support and stick to it.

So after being processed (finger printed and photographed) it was off to the holding cells. As you can see they didn't seem to search us too well.

The toilets are not appealing at all, so you just hold on.

After all our time in the slammer we had our day in court.

I know its all light hearted and that they are creating an experience for us to remind us that these are kids in real trouble, but at some of the stations the message is particularly difficult.

When they began to show us how drugs are created and where they are hidden it was very clear that I will never be able to be a drug user.

The hardest stop is the padded cell in which they recreate a troubled girls life who didn't show up to her court appearance - because she is dead. The question left with us is - Who let her down ? The answer just isn't clear and raises many more questions in my mind.

So armed with the little bit of insight on how easy is is for kids to stray on to the wrong path and knowing that the things I do will contribute to how they make those decisions. I will be back next year to continue to help in any way I can whilst I try to raise two boys into two men  - who, like me are completely un-suited to jail.

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

Being Average

When people use the word average to describe somebody or something it tends to be used in a negative way. If you come back from a restaurant and say the food was average everyone you say this to will immediately not go there. This is because with food their expectation is that when they go out to eat that they will be "wow'd" or taken somewhere their taste buds didn't expect. Average just won't cut it.

So how on this green earth did this cross over to our kids ?

Nowadays for some parents if your kid isn't super bright or super stupid you're told or lead to believe that there is something wrong. I'm serious.

Being average is becoming a stigma. But let me tell you - Average people succeed all the time.

Take for example the below list of people you would all know -

Walt Disney - Average student
Henry Ford - Average student
Milton Hershey - Only had a 4th grade education and look at his company Hershey's Chocolate
Mahatma Gandhi - Apparently was thrown out of Medical school because he kept failing.

and who can forget Albert Einstein, who was removed from school because they said he was "slow". It was his mother who insisted that he keep trying different ways of learning.

Why isn't average ok any more ? When did we wake up and say "oops that's not working".

What's worse is parents bragging about how much help their child is getting to stop being average.

I read this (quite lengthy) article forwarded on to me on how to put your child in therapy , so you can see how easy it is to get it wrong just by over doing it.

image courtesy of blog.pwnthesat.com

But I'm still confused as to how average became bad.

I blame the way we look at the world today, we only look at the top and the bottom not the middle. Only the really great and the really bad are of interest. It's this middle where most of us are and maybe it's because of our new found short span of attention that has led us to believe that the middle just isn't interesting any more.

Try this test on yourself - try remembering the last time you were watching a You Tube Video that went for more than 6 minutes and you watched all the way to the end. (By the way, apparently the average You Tube video is 4 mins 12 secs long)

So to all of us averages - I say congratulations on being the majority, I am an average guy. I'm not super smart and I have an average job and I'm actually really happy with that. In fact, I'm actually very happy in general.

And to those aspiring to be above average - I say to you -  stop it you're just making it harder for yourself, and not only that your going to be constantly unhappy looking for it.

So be happy with what you have and more importantly use it to your advantage.

Now if it's ok with you I'm going to make my self an average cup of tea in an average cup and enjoy the rest of the day.

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