Family

Teaching the Children

By / June 13, 2010

One of the heaviest responsibilities for me as a parent is to make sure that my children are firmly grounded in the religious beliefs that I hold dear. This is primarily important because of what I believe about this life and life hereafter, but it is also important because faith has been an essential tool for me in handling life. When I am faced with things that are difficult or frightening, I turn to prayer, church, scriptures, and personal revelation. These are the means by which I have survived and will continue to survive. I desperately want my kids to have those tools at their disposal. So I take my kids to church. We pray in our home. Family scripture study is the beginning of the day. (At least in theory, scripture study got lost somewhere in the end-of-school craziness and we’ve yet to put it back.) Most of all, I tell my kids how I feel about these things and they have helped me. But all the teaching, shaping, modeling does not guarantee that my children will adopt these tools for themselves. I can demonstrate the usefulness of a fork all day, but until the child picks it up and practices using it, the fork is only a pointy piece of metal. (or a drumstick, or something to fling off the edge of the high chair.)

Many a parenting book or magazine article will tout the importance of “teachable moments.” These are the times when a child is actively curious about a particular topic. It usually begins with a question and sometimes sparks a discussion which expands to fill whatever time is available. Unfortunately these teachable moments arrive on the child’s schedule, not the parent’s. All too often I stay up late at night talking things over with a child because I found a moment where the words I say will really be absorbed. This is particularly true in relation to spiritual and religious topics. My kids know the right answers. They’ve been going to church their whole lives, it would be nigh impossible for them not to know. But there is a difference between answering “prayer” to a Sunday School question and getting onto your knees in real need, searching for answers to your troubles. It is the difference between seeing forks everywhere and actually using one. (The use of a fork is actually a skill, ask anyone who grew up using chopsticks.)

To my joy, I am not alone in this effort to teach my children about these spiritual tools. Howard and I believe the same things and so we work together rather than at cross purposes. That helps. It also helps that all of our extended family are immersed in the same beliefs. Everywhere my kids go, they see loved ones using these same tools. Most importantly the tools actually work. When my children pick them up and try them, then the same God who helps me, helps them in the same way. That knowledge alone lightens the burden of all the rest. I am not alone in this effort. They are His children too.

It is hard to describe the joy I feel when I see my children reaching for their own spiritual connections rather than relying upon me for answers. I love it when they have their own experiences with prayer or scriptures and then choose to share their feelings with me. At such moments I really feel how my children are spiritual beings in their own right and they’ve only been loaned to me for a time. I have a responsibility to teach them, but I do not own them. I’ve had several such experiences in the last few months and I do not have words to describe how grateful I am to be a part of the growth of these amazing people who happen to be my children.

The Schlock Mercenary Anniversary Party

By / June 12, 2010 / 1 Comment

Being a blogger is a serious disadvantage for certain activities, such as planning a surprise party for your spouse. For the last week and a half my head has been full of stuff about which I could not blog. I’ve been chewing my nails looking at the weather, stressing over the fact that the party time was scheduled at the same hour as the book signings of some friends, and trying to guess whether everything would go well. It did.

Schlock Mercenary 10th Anniversary

Howard was pretty sure I had something up my sleeve for today’s 10th anniversary of Schlock Mercenary, but he did not expect a full party. I truly can not take credit for the event. My major contribution was to approve the good ideas of others and to help make sure that Howard arrived on schedule. The big banner and the birthday cake were both provided by Rodney.

Schlock's birthday cake

We even sang happy birthday to Schlock, but Howard was the one who blew out the candles.

Candle blowing

Most of the party attendees were locals, but those from afar were represented by Pi and Kreely who’ve been along for the ride since the beginning and traveled all the way from Washington state.
The plaque

Dave Brady created an amazing plaque built around a digital photo frame. It is full of pictures provided by far-flung friends and fans. He cast the metal for it himself.

Schlock bowl

The decorations were provided by my amazing sister-in-law Rebecca. She crafted the Schlock candy bowl out of insulation foam. I’m glad I took a picture when I did, because this guy spent most of the party looking forlornly into an empty bowl. The kids took off with his treats.

Place settings

She made some awesome table decorations too. But I think the coolest thing was the epaulets.

Epaulet photo
You can see them right above Howard’s shoulder. Most of the attendees were wearing them by the end of the party. I meant to acquire some, but I got distracted talking to people. By the end of the party, Howard’s epaulets found a new home anyway.

Antennae

It was rainy and cold when the party began, but people came anyway. It warmed our hearts that so many carved time out of their busy lives to celebrate with us, even outdoors in the rain. There were enough people that I did not have the chance to talk with everyone. By the end of the party the sun had come out and the world looked brighter. We shared potluck food and many lingered past the ending hour. It was an excellent event.

Unexpected Evening at Home

By / June 11, 2010

I planned my whole day around the fact that I was going to escape my house and hang out with adults in the evening. It was all arranged. Kiki was going with Howard. Link would babysit. But then the scout camping trip changed locations from a campground somewhere to my neighbor’s back yard. Link heard the news and suddenly switched from being glad to miss it, to being excited about going. I could not look into his bright, hopeful eyes and say “No you can’t camp out with your friends, you have to babysit.” (The fact that a resentful babysitter is not a particularly good babysitter also played into the decision.) I gave permission and Link gleefully ran off to camp while I canceled my plans. Since Link being excited about camping is the far more rare event, I know I made the right choice. But I still wish I were headed to Salt Lake right now.

This story could be a lead-in to a discussion on parental sacrifice, or a personal pity party. I don’t really want to go either of those places. Loving someone means that sometimes you put aside the things you want for the things that they want. This is true for any loving relationship, not just parent for child. In my case, the kids have had to miss lots of things they wanted because of the needs of the business or the fatigue of their parents. It is only fair that I take a turn sometimes. This need for sacrifice is true in a larger sense as well. I often find myself attending or planning events that I’d rather skip because I value the organization or people involved. I think everyone does this at times. The trick is to do so with my eyes open, knowing that I am giving a gift of time and effort. Like any gift, I need to make sure that I give it with an open heart, not resentfully. And so I am glad to stay home so my boy can camp, even though I’d rather be elsewhere.

Short updates

By / June 10, 2010

This week I have been focusing on getting myself and the kids out of the house more. It is working. We’ve been to a park, a church activity, and gone swimming. I’m beginning to fulfill the promises I made to the kids about how this summer would go.

This week I am also prepping for shipping. Janci and I sorted invoices. I’ve got all the t-shirts and will be folding them tomorrow too. I even placed my first orders for shipping supplies. Next week there will be more invoice sorting. Things are lining up so that we can do the shipping in mid-July.

Howard is working hard as always, trying to rebuild the buffer that took a hit from finishing the book and multiple convention appearances. We’re headed into the home stretch on the current story arc and Howard is placing himself under significant pressure to get it right. I have every confidence in him. I recently re-read the whole story and I kept being amazed at all the little details that he kept track of and brought back around. I was there with him the whole time, reading scripts as he finished them, but I frequently get confused or forget details. But the story really works and is going to be a good book. It is also going to be a really big book.

Our summer life rhythm is creaking along, not perfect, but more-or-less functional. The chore lists need to be tweaked because I can see which jobs are not on anyone’s list. Speaking of chore lists, house chores need to figure more prominently on my to do list as well. After that I can figure out how to give myself quiet spaces in the day. The trip to the park last Tuesday gave me some hints. We were there for two hours after dinner, and for most of it I sat and wrote on my laptop. Evening trips to the park may become a staple of this summer.

Patch and the bike

By / June 8, 2010

It seemed like a good plan to send the kids out to ride bikes. The only trouble is that Patch felt himself too big for the little training wheeled bike, but had not yet had time to learn how to ride on two wheels. I was distracted by the piles of invoices on the kitchen table. So I barely paid attention other than an absent admonishment to Link that he should help his little brother. It did not go well. Link wanted to help, but did not really know how to teach someone else to ride a bike. Nor did he have the strength to hold up a bike while Patch attempted to pedal. Howard came to the rescue, but Patch was already convinced that the two wheel bike was too big and that he needed something in between the two bike sizes. He tearfully clung to this assertion and no amount of cajoling could convince him to give the bike another try. Kiki tried to help too. When I finally went outside Patch was seated on the bike, feet dragging the ground, collapsed limply over the handle bars, while Kiki steered the bike around. I declared bike time to be over and carried the sobbing boy into the house. It took him a long time to calm down.

I had to return to invoice sorting even before Patch had regained full calm. I felt bad about the whole thing, but by the time I realized that I needed to set aside the business stuff for a few minutes, it was already too late. People can not learn things unless they’ve got their attitudes correctly adjusted. My business schedule is so tightly packed right now that I couldn’t afford to reschedule the invoice sorting completely. But I thought about Patch and his bike while I shifted pieces of paper around. I thought about him long after he had calmed down and run off to play a game with Link. Patch is like me. He plans ahead creating mental pictures of how things are going to work. Also like me, he gets very upset when his plans have to be adjusted without advance warning. In his mind he was just going to jump on the bike and go. When that was not the case, the whole thing felt impossible to him. He had to stomp and cry a bit before he could really address the issue.

I’ve been feeling very “stomp and cry” about a lot of little things lately. There are these things that I can’t see how to fix, or that I can only fix in ways that I don’t want to do. I can pay someone to come take the lawnmower away, repair it and return it, but I don’t want to spend the money. A similar application of money would fix the oven, but I haven’t done that yet either. There are some ongoing business negotiations which are pending and I’d like them resolved. Our big shipping day needs to be prepared for, QFT needs more layout, lots of small family and community events require my planning effort. And I am dragging my feet, crying, and feeling like it is all impossible. But it isn’t. If I can just calm down I will be able to see the resources all around me. The solutions will become very clear.

This evening when the invoices were sorted and the afternoon was cooling down, I borrowed a bike handle from my neighbor. It is a long curved handle which attaches to the back of a bike and is specifically designed for an adult to help a child balance and learn. Once this aid was installed, I called Patch back outside. He smiled when he saw the handle and ran to climb on the bike. Suddenly he could picture it working again. He got on while I balanced it, then he began to pedal. Within three steps, I let go of that handle. 10 steps later, he wobbled so I grabbed it again and we stopped.
“Awesome buddy! Did you know I let go?”
“You did?!” Patch grinned. The first solo ride was done.
Rides 2-10 were much wobblier because Patch kept trying to turn around to see if I was still holding on. I was. But after that, he gained confidence. He stopped checking, and I let go more. Inside of 20 minutes I stood in the middle of our cul de sac while Patch rode in circles around me. Same bike, same day, same cul de sac, but the boy had changed. He was given the right support, the right tool, a little bit of confidence, and what had been impossible became accomplished.

I haven’t solved my problems yet. There are still tools and confidence that I need to acquire, but I think maybe these tools exist and I can figure it out.

Short update, Second week of summer

By / June 7, 2010

I’m having trouble finding my writing head space. Partly this is a normal effect of having the kids home all day. It is also due to the fact that my laptop still refuses to speak to the internet. I’ve got a friend coming to help trouble shoot later in the week. But for now it leaves me blogging down in my basement office. I much prefer to do my writing in a room with windows.

We had family home evening tonight. Its the first time in weeks. It is the first time in even longer that Howard and I did not veto Tag as the activity of choice. So we ran around outside with the kids. Miraculously we did not have a single tantrum. There was much laughing and running. Everyone got a turn to be It. Then we came inside for pudding. The choice of snack was somewhat ironic since the subject of the lesson was “Eating Healthy.” But a good time was had by all, and it was a good start on my intention of putting family stuff on the calendar this week.

Tomorrow I get to have my annual blood draw to check my thyroid levels. I also get to sort invoices. Then the kids and I all run away from the house to do something elsewhere. We’re not sure yet where.

Sprinkler Rainbows and Cottonwood Fluff

By / June 6, 2010

I stood at the kitchen table and announced plans for next week, which included a day trip to Salt Lake and a swim day. The older two kids nodded, but the reaction from the younger two kids was to lament that we did not go swimming this week. It was the first week of summer and I’d promised we could go swimming once per week, but we had not yet actually gone.

I felt frustration and anger with their reaction. I spent the whole week a a dead run, scrambling to adapt to a new life rhythm while still getting all the business work and the family stuff done. At the end of that crazy week, I finally had a feel for what was working and what was not. Part of what was not working was finding time to fulfill my commitments to summer activities. Hence my announcement, making sure the kid stuff got onto next weeks schedule before anything else.

The perspective of the kids was different. They burst into the summer of freedom, eager for the adventures to come. Instead they were answered with a seemingly endless stream of “I need to think about that” and “Not today.” So they began to wonder if any of the promises will materialize or if it is all just a mirage. In their ears “next week” sounds remarkably like “never.”

I stood, frustrated, as my kids filled the air with “what about this? Can we do this today?” I closed my eyes, trying to hang on to calm. Trying to see their perspective around the edges of mine. Knowing that it falls upon me to keep my cool even when they are unreasonable in their requests. At 6 pm on a Saturday it is in not fair to throw a tantrum because I won’t immediately pack up and take them to a swimming pool, but kids do not check their desires for fairness before asking. Then Gleek’s lament passed over the fact that I had not yet taken her to the school playground so that she can show me her recess tricks. It was a small outing, small enough to fit into the hours of remaining daylight. My evening was clear. So I said the words the kids had been longing to hear all week. “Yes. Let’s go.”

In the end only Gleek and Patch went with me. An elementary school playground was not all that attractive to them and they were content to wait for the larger activities next week. For two hours Gleek showed me her tricks. Patch Demonstrated his monkey-bar skills. The sprinklers came on and the kids got soaked chasing rainbows in the spray. Then they dried out while catching cottonwood fluff from the air. Each running step sent whirls of fluff up off the grass to fly again. The grass itself looked as if a few clouds had spread out for a summer afternoon nap. Cottonwoods are not popular trees anymore, exactly because of this fluff,. In fact the school yard used to have dozens of them, but they were cut down several years ago. I was glad to find this one remaining at the edge of the field. I sat on the cotton fluff frosted grass and watched my children.

They were joyful, completely occupied by each activity. That complete immersion in NOW is something I need to find in myself more often. I’ve realized it before and I’m sure I’ll realize it again, because I spend much of my life observing rather than participating. I love observation and thinking, but there art times when I need to get myself out of the house to go chase fluff in the air.

The return home had some crankiness. I had to scold when they did not listen. That was unpleasant and the knowledge that it is likely, often keeps me from wanting to go out. I don’t like to discipline my children in public. But a day later, I remember the beauty of the sprinkler rainbows and the fluff filled air. I remember the joy of Gleek running full-tilt through puddles. The sharp words fade. A joyful evening is worth some inconvenience and unpleasantness. I need to remember that.

Endless Saturday Afternoon

By / June 4, 2010

So far the summer feels like one endless Saturday. This is because all the kids are home all day, just like they are on Saturdays. So I float anchorless through the week, continually surprised to discover that today is in fact Friday (Or Tuesday, or Thursday). Sundays are anchored by church, everything else floats.

Despite the drifting nature of the week, I am still getting lots of work done. This is good and necessary. Every day brings us closer to book shipping, GenCon, and AussieCon. Each of these events has piles of necessary associated tasks. I’m working my way through the lists, keeping careful notes to make sure nothing gets forgotten. Of course things do get missed, but I try to make sure they are small things.

My focus on all things merchandise and convention has crowded writing out for now. This will change, but at the moment it is necessary. Writing in the summer is always hard because I have so few empty spaces in which to contemplate. All the spaces are filled with children. These children are all loving the relaxed schedule of summer. They are adapting admirably to the lists of chores on the wall, and the house is getting incrementally cleaner every day. This makes us all glad. Yes, the kids are glad too. They like having clean places to play.

June is a month which will mostly be spent at home. This is good. We need time to stabilize. Howard needs time to build up the buffer. Because at the end of the month the books will arrive.

Observations on June 3rd

By / June 3, 2010

At 11:30 last night I was falling asleep on my feet, but I did not want to go to bed because the house was so quiet. I was in need of quiet. So I lay on the couch and dozed off while Howard played Oblivion. He woke me at 12:30 so I could go to bed. I shambled up stairs, changed into pajamas, collapsed into bed, where I found myself awake and fretful. I realized that the QFT preliminary layout was looming in my mind and making everything else feel impossible. So I got out of bed and spent the next 3.5 hours getting it done. Birds were chirping when I went back to bed.

I am very tired today, but I can tell that it was the right decision. I had a solid block of time to concentrate that was completely un-interrupted. There are still QFT tasks to do, but I’ve been able to hand off materials to two people who were waiting on me. That feels really good. Now I need to be at least moderately effective today, until I can crash at bedtime.

***

Yesterday Link moped around all day and I nagged at him constantly to get his chores done. He finally did at 6 pm. Today Link was up, dressed, smiling, with all his chores done by 10:30 am. The difference? He took his medicine today after being off for a few days. Having the chores done is nice, but the I-can-handle-anything smile is why I know that the hassle of medication is worth it. Medicine does not change who he is. He is himself, he feels like himself, he is just able to plan ahead and accomplish the things he wants to do.

***

I have magnets. They are sorted and bagged. I have ordered shirts. They will be in early next week. Prints will be done tomorrow. Slowly but surely I am gathering the necessary merchandise pieces to fill all of these orders. Next week there will be invoice sorting.

***

Some days the kids are nice to each other. I like it when that happens.

***

I am very tired.

Third day of summer, par for course

By / June 2, 2010

Remember how on Monday I said that maybe I’m getting the hang of this summer schedule thing? Yeah. Not so much. It is really hard to have work time all mixed up with family time every hour of the day. My kids are home. I want to take them to parks and museums. I want to run off and play. But I have piles of work to do and I want the kids to go away so that I can get it done. These two desires battle in my brain and make focusing on anything very hard. I’ve got to figure it out.

The actual physical schedule with meals and chores is still working fine. It’s just the inside of my head that is noisy.

Also I wish things would just work without requiring maintenance or repair. The mower stopped working and the grass is about 6 inches long. Link was ready to rejoice, but I made him borrow the neighbor’s push mower. He really likes it, but the lawn looks like a blind person tried to buzz cut it while riding over a bumpy road. So the mower goes onto the list of things that I have to troubleshoot along with my laptop’s internet connection and the sound card on the Kidputer.

So. Feeling tired and kind of grouchy. Which really is par for course during the first week of summer. Things settle in as we progress. This morning was actually fine. It is just afternoon which went skewampus. Hopefully I can get everything back on track tomorrow.