Clara's Mid-Summer Bucket List

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A parental suggestion courtesy of my wife:

Yesterday, with about half of our summer behind us, Elysha asked our six year-old daughter to create a bucket list of summertime activities that she still wanted to do. 

The list is great, and best of all, it's entirely doable.

Backyard picnics. Sleepovers. Trips to playgrounds and beaches.

Not only do we know exactly what she wants to do, but as we check each one of those items off the list, she will feel better and better about her summer.

And we also learned that our daughter isn't a selfish, materialistic jerk face as well. She's content with the simple things of life. Playgrounds and beaches and sleepovers.

Also a great thing to know.   

A mid-summer bucket list: An outstanding idea courtesy of the great Elysha Dicks. 

A note to my children regarding the shame and embarrassment of 2015

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When you read about the year 2015 in the history books, little ones, please remember this:

Yes, it’s true. It is still perfectly legal in much of the United States in 2015 to terminate a person’s employment because he or she was gay.

But please know that many of us – and perhaps even most of us – are nothing like the bigoted, cowardly elected officials who allowed such laws to persist.

I don’t know a single person who supports this form of discrimination, little ones. I know these bigots exist. I see them on television from time to time, holding up grammatically incorrect and poorly spelled signs and expressing their support for the predominantly old, white men who either believe in this form of discrimination or are too cowardly to stand by their own convictions and oppose their constituency.

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The country is changing fast, little ones. Same sex marriage is now legal in a majority of the states and for the vast majority of Americans. Ten years ago, there was just one state where same sex marriage was legal. The shift in attitude has been profound.

I have no doubt that by the time you are my age, the ability for an employer to fire an employee because he or she is gay will seem as archaic to you as Jim Crow seems to me. And like Jim Crow, a large majority of Americans opposed those laws at the time, too. But changing the law is oftentimes more difficult than changing attitudes and beliefs. 

Thankfully, the country is changing more quickly than anyone would have ever imagined. Just not quick enough if you are gay.

Legitimate complaints about the toilet

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My daughter had a tantrum this weekend when told that she had to try to use the bathroom before leaving the house.

Amongst her complaints:

  1. There's nothing to do but sit there.
  2. It's not my favorite thing to do.
  3. I don't want to wash my hands because that's not fun either.

Tough to argue with the logic.

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I proposed that we place a book or two in the bathroom to keep her occupied while she is sitting there. She’s in kindergarten, but there are plenty of books that she can read.

Her response:

“Are you crazy? Read on the potty. That’s ridiculous.”

Future CTfastrak spokespersons

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Connecticut recently opened CTfastrak, a dedicated roadway for buses only with stations stretching from Hartford to New Britain.

The construction of this roadway and these stations has been going on for as long as my children have been alive, so we have spent many, many days watching construction vehicles moving earth and diffing holes.

CTfastrak opened last week, and for the first two weeks, rides are free. There is a station very near our home, so my wife took my son on a ride last week and sent me these photos.

They had so much fun that they went again yesterday with friends.

Based upon the photos, it would appear that they are applying to be spokespersons for the bus line.

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One is the loneliest number, even if you’re an American Girl doll.

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Our six year-old daughter wants another American Girl doll.

Given the price of these dolls, we said no. Her grandparents bought her the first doll, and her aunt and uncle gave her an American Girl doll baby, plus she has a hand-me-down baby from a friend.

When it comes to American Girl products, my daughter is set for life.

“You know, Mom,” Clara protested when she was told that there would not be a second doll. “One is the loneliest number.”

We have no idea where she gets this stuff. 

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Little routines by little people that mean so much to me for reasons I can’t explain.

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Every morning my son runs down to the hallway from his bedroom to this window at the top of the stairs and takes in the landscape of the day. He looks for sun or rain or on this particular morning – snow.

It’s not much. A simple routine by a two year old boy starting his day. But when I’m able to catch it, I’m so happy that I did. 

Last week I caught it forever.

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13 thoughts upon seeing my son trying to be cooler than me.

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I walked into the living room and this is what I saw. image image

The thoughts that instantly ran through my mind:

  • Who the hell does he think he is?
  • This dude is a little too relaxed.
  • Is this the way a two year-old is supposed to be watching Little Einsteins?
  • Who the hell does he think he is?
  • My son might already be cooler than me.
  • There’s no way in hell that my son is going to ever be cooler to me.
  • Who taught him to sit like that?
  • Is this what “chillin’ like a villain” looks like?
  • Did he arrange that pillow like that or find it that way?
  • Who the hell does he think he is?
  • Honestly, I could not look as cool as he does sitting like that.
  • How did this happen?
  • Who the hell does he think he is?

The blend of happiness and sadness, pride and envy of the working day is easy on some days. Impossibly hard on others. Also, my son needs to get himself a job.

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It’s not uncommon to hear about my wife’s day home with our son or the times that they have spent with friends at a coffee shop or a playground or a gym class and feel incredibly jealous for this time that she has enjoyed at home with our kids.

It’s an odd tug, to be honest. Part of me is so glad that we can do this for her and our children, and part of me is so proud of myself for cobbling together my teaching and writing and speaking and storytelling and DJ and tutoring careers together into some semblance of an income that has allowed us to continue to pay the bills and keep our heads above water while one of us is not working.

But there’s always a part of me that knows that even if my next book is a huge bestseller or my last book is made into a blockbuster film, or even if we win the lottery that we never play because lotteries are for suckers, I will never get this same chance to spend the kind of time with my children that my wife has had over these past five years.

That time is gone forever. Clara is in kindergarten. Charlie will be in preschool next year. Even if I become a stay-at-home dad someday – which may actually happen at some point in the future – it will be a quieter, emptier, far more organized house. There will be chances to volunteer in classrooms and walks to school, but those lazy mornings in bed or those afternoons in the sun are not in my future, no matter what happens.

That blending of happiness for my children and my wife and sadness for what I can never have and pride for what we have accomplished is easier on some days than others.

Some days it’s easy as pie. Some days it’s a stone on my heart. 

But I really shouldn’t be jealous of my son for his time at home. He’s only two years-old, and yet, when I see photos like this, of my son playing in his big sister’s bed, while she and I are off at our respective schools, I can’t help but think that he needs to get a job.

He’s just having way too much fun.

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