Dad Entry #137

We’ve been busy. I’m at a Starbucks in Beijing right now. That sounds a little self-important, but that’s my intent: to impress my audience. Maybe it's the adult versions of my subjects. I hope my kids are proud of their parents the way this kid’s proud of his. Working long hours and traveling isn't easy for anyone. But Sara and I get it done; my kids have shoes. I think. They grow out of ‘em so bloomin’ fast now.

First grade is not on Megan’s list of favorite things. Yesterday she said, “I don’t wanna go to school. We can only do what Mrs. Palm says. And she tells us what to do all day.” I thought, Oh Honey, you have 15 more years of this. But Meg’s adjusting. It’s a longer day now, plus an earlier one. The longer part was all I recognized at first, because I’m slow. (Meg was only in class from 12:50 to 3:20 last year, 2.5 hours.) But the earlier part is a change too, and girls – even little ones – get all fancy-pants about hairdos, outfits, accessories, shoes! Meg has to complete this checklist by 8:30 now! Even so, I hope her complaints peter out soon. I still laugh when I think of Michael’s first grumble about school: “Mrs. Kravitz is kind of bossy.”

Michael’s pretty awesome but he’s no paragon of spotlessness (to steal a phrase I just read in Sports Illustrated). Sharing is a difficult concept for him. Destined for Wall Street? There are worse places to work. I mean if ethical pitfalls are a concern. Washington DC, for example. To be honest, I suspect Michael shares generously with everyone except Megan. But I don’t have a shirt that says, “I love everyone.” My shirt says, “I love Megan.” So we have a problem. Both kids have a scarcity mindset sometimes. They hoard and guard things like stickers and pencils, things that just seem undeserving of so much protection and accumulation. Michael will bristle when Megan reaches for one of his markers. If he complains, I say, “Dude, can’t you share your markers with Megan?” He might very matter-of-factly answer, “No.” I say, “No? Are you joking? You have a thousand of them.” He doesn’t disagree. He says, “But Megan has her own markers.” And around we go. Although sometimes, since reasoning with a mind that’s very bright and logical – and wrong! – can be so arduous, not to mention fruitless, I just give Megan all of Michael’s markers for a while and that’s the end of it. Parenting is not a license for tyranny, or some lifelong imperious regime, but it’s no democracy either. I tend to forget this. I don’t have a gold and bejeweled throne to remind me. I only have a ceramic one. Two, actually. That need frequent cleaning. It all makes sense now.

The kids did so much this summer! There was constant swimming, biking, sport-playing, movie-watching, art-creating, and pillow-fort-building! There were birthday parties, parades, fireworks, and bonfires with marshmallows. There was ice cream! And lots of fishing, boating, festival-going, and traveling (to Prior Lake, Olathe, Iowa City, Omaha, Bettendorf, Clear Lake, Battle Creek, downtown Chicago, the Wisconsin Dells… to name a few).