Rockies vs. Expos

I was given two free tickets to the Rockies/Expos game at Coors Field today, which the Rockies won 8-6. Helton played very well, hitting a homer and making a couple of clutch defensive plays. My son and I pigged out on Rockie Dogs with kraut, nachos, pizza, and sodas. I figure I gained about 5 pounds in exchange for my monetary sacrifice to the gods of concession.

With the looming strike, that’s likely to be our last game this year. We have September tickets for a fireworks game against my second favorite team, the World Champion Arizona Diamondbacks, but we will probably have to take them in for a refund.

I got notification today that my friend Chuck Anderson, a Denver writer and school teacher, has published a story at Grim Opus. Congratulations, Chuck! You’re an inspiration to us all. (Well, to me, anyway.)

Weddings, Aging and Connectedness

Today I felt the flash of age.

My nephew, Sean, and his fiancée, Jenn, married in a beautiful Scottish-tinged ceremony. The two already have a charming baby named Zachary, and I expect that they will have a happy and successful life together. Sean is partial to lighthouses, so my brother-in-law drew the ancient Pharos lighthouse at Alexandria and gave it to them as a wedding present. It was a touching scene.

Sean and Jenn Carr.  Pharos lighthouse drawing copyright Steven D. Halsey.

The reception was at Karen’s in the Country, and the staff there did a fine job of keeping us all fed and happy. The Victorian decor somehow didn’t clash with Jenn’s father’s kilt. (That was cool!)

Sean, Jenn, and Zachary, I wish you the best. You have all the tools to make a successful life together, and I appreciate you inviting me into your lives. I’m sure my brother would be very proud of you and his grandson.

So, what about that age thing I mentioned at the top of this entry?

While at the reception, I experienced the same giddy, the-world-is-falling-out-from-under-me feeling that I used to get as a kid when I dared to speculate about the size of the universe. It came on me suddenly, and might have been helped by the sangria we drank during the best man’s toast, but it was definitely the same feeling. As I watched my nephew dancing with his wife, and saw the bridesmaid carry young Zachary up to them, I realized that they were living a part of my life that has passed. My son will never be Zach’s age again, and I’m not likely to ever be married again. More than that, I remember the handsome young man on the floor as an infant, and I wonder how he grew up so fast.

Why, then, does this feel exactly like my childhood giddiness? Certainly I wasn’t old then. Perhaps what I’m labeling as age is actually a feeling of connectedness. Back then, as I contemplated how large the universe was, I was overwhelmed. That was partly because of the sheer vastness, and partly because I seemed so insignificant in it. But maybe I read that flash of insight wrong; maybe instead of feeling disconnected from the universe, I was feeling a connection to something vital. Maybe I was getting a flash of understanding about what it means to be part — however insignificant — of the universe.

And maybe, at the reception, I was getting a flash of understanding about what it means to be part of a family.

On Growing Up A Nerd

While heading home from a Superbowl party last night, I became engaged in a heady discussion with my soon-to-be nine year old about the size of our galaxy relative to the rest of the universe. This is the same eight year old who recently brought up the subject of reincarnation out of the blue at a wedding reception. He didn’t know what it was called, but he knew what it involved. I didn’t start either of these conversations, for the record.

It seems he’s headed down Nerd Alley, just like his Dad. He receives the same amount of picking on by kids at school, thinks about things I don’t expect him to, likes playing with Legos more than with other kids, and can’t catch a ball worth beans. His favorite activities involve computers, and he has a frightening capacity for forgiveness and compassion — frightening only because he doesn’t even think of protecting himself from outside hurt. I am loathe to admit it, but protecting oneself mentally, emotionally and physically is more important now than it ever was when I was his age.

When I was a kid, I lived just outside of a small, relatively safe town. I spent more time in my room reading than outside playing, and when I was outside I was on a bike. I didn’t have a lot of friends at that age, mostly because other grade school kids thought it great fun to make fun of my feminine name. My son doesn’t have a lot of friends in our apartment complex, partly because he comes across as “wussy” and feminine. One difference is that he craves friends more than I ever did at that age. I had one good friend in the trailer park I lived in and a couple of friends from Cub Scouts, and that was more than enough for me. This continued, and though I gained more friends, we were all pretty tightly bound into the “Brain” clique. This brought more taunting from more kids, teaching me more and more how good it was NOT to be like them. I continued hanging with the Brains and refusing to learn how to deal with social situations outside my clique.

There are obvious pitfalls to this, and I had to learn to vault them later in life, but I think this was one of the best things I could have done. In addition to keeping my brain exercised, I learned independence from the masses at an early age. This translates to one very important lesson: I didn’t have much of a problem dealing with peer pressure. The dangers of alcohol, drugs and trouble did not present much of a challenge to me because I didn’t need the acceptance of the people who were offering these vices to me.

In a way, I hope my son continues on the nerd path. It will teach him how to say “no” to peer pressure and will increase his self-confidence as long as he doesn’t wallow in the lonliness — that is a real danger for him. With the gang violence and drug problem in the schools now, these skills will be more important to him than they were to me. It is vital that he know when to say “no” and when to let his compassion pour forth. The more he exercises his mind, the better equipped he will be to handle that. I don’t mean that I want to make my son socially inept (as many of us nerds were,) but given the alternatives, I would rather see him grow up to be capable and careful than gullible and people-pleasing.

Parenting

The title of this essay was going to be “Kids.” I was frustrated with the interaction of my stepson (16) and son (8), both only children until they were thrown unexpectedly into sibling life in a two-bedroom apartment last year. (Parents, don’t try this at home.)

I was prepared to outline all kinds of annoyances about both boys when I realized (for the thousandth time) that I was the one being annoyed and they were just working through a situation that neither of them had predicted or asked for. That’s when I decided to shift the focus from ragging on them to examining my own viewpoint.

Recently, a man in Byers, Colorado, frustrated with the incessant crying of his baby boy, threw the child against the wall and ceiling until he stopped crying — forever. Whoa. Is this where it leads when we, as parents, don’t monitor our own reactions?

Both my children realize that they can annoy me easily, and they (by virtue of being kids) will take advantage of that. That appeals to them, perhaps unconsciously, because it is a way for them to control the actions of someone who is usually trying to control their actions. And that’s where the difficulty comes in for me as a parent. I am somewhat ashamed to admit that I sometimes want to control their lives. I don’t want them hanging around certain people or doing certain things, I want them to have stronger interests in creative endeavors. I want them to be more independent, but I don’t want to give them the freedom to do so.

Somewhere, there must be a line to follow. As a parent, it is my job to guide (not necessarily control) their actions so that they can go into life armed with the skills to survive. It is also my job to protect them and care for them. However, too much “protection” fosters rebellion, especially from teens. Rebellion itself is necessary for them to form their own self image, and is helped (perhaps less significantly) by identification with what they like. Yet, at times I must put my foot down so they know where the lines are drawn. How do I identify when I am pushing too hard? If I am careful, and watch the signals from the kids, perhaps they will let me know.

A person whom I respect greatly once told me that kids “pretty much turn out okay no matter what you do.” That was heartening when I heard it as a 21 year-old, but I think there were some conditions implicit in that statement that I didn’t detect until several years later. First, you must be involved in your kids’ lives. If you don’t show interest in what they are doing, they will look for that attention elsewhere. Second, you must not be so controlling that the kids can’t develop their own personalities. I remember that this parent placed few restrictions on his kids’ coming and going, but he always knew where they were and when they were expected to return. Third, be consistent. Don’t change the rules on them without reason. When disciplining them, make sure the punishment fits the crime; don’t ground them for a month when they come home twenty minutes late. I’m sure there was more unspoken advice in his simple statement, but he was wise enough to know that I was not ready to hear or understand all of the baggage.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m ready even now. Myriad are the times I have reacted first and then realized that perhaps I should have handled a situation differently with my kids. How important are those slips? If I am to believe what I tell the kids, they are very important, just like every decision we make (or refuse to make). Even small acts can act as catalysts and start larger events in motion. It follows that it would be of utmost importance to think through all interaction with your children before it happens, or at least before you act.

Yeah …. Right.

There are at least three problems with what I just wrote. Number one, whether we like it or not, occasions arise where emotions cloud our sense of rationality and bring the issues out of focus. There are also occasions when we do not have the luxury of time to consider our “proper” course of action. Secondly, even when we do have time to consider, we rarely have all the information in a given situation. Even decisions that seem to be good at first can come out harmful in the end (and vice versa.) Finally, we will go neurotic if we let ourselves get so far out of balance as to think we have to be infallible with our kids. I think this is the true core of what my friend above meant. It was not so much a statement about the kids as it was the parents.

In a nutshell, I guess my best option is to do the best I can with each individual circumstance. When I have the luxury of reflection, I will use it. When I don’t have that luxury, I will try to see past the emotions and make rational decisions based on what information I have. And, occasionally, I will be wrong.

But if I make an effort to follow my own advice, maybe they’ll turn out okay anyway.

New Year’s Day

New Year’s Day

My name is Edward Andrew, and I’m six years old.

You lie in the wheeled bed, puffy and pale
Riding the waves of morphine
(or is it Bartlett Lake?)
I help the illusion along.

Howdy howdy there, friends and neighbors!
This is El Monte Slim f’m El Monte Slim Chev’rlet …

A cough chokes you back awake,
Fear and confusion cloud your eyes
No, don’t speak; I point to the tube
You say goodbye with your eyes.

… I wait for delivery each day until three,
Oh Lord, woncha buy me a color TV?

A simple flick of the switch and my decision is final.
A few shuddering, spasmodic breaths and it is done.
You expire at my side, hand in my hand, my
Tears exposed in the glare of my own inadequacy.

See ya at the beach, Bro.

— Stace Johnson, 1997