Summer Ends

I spent the last week soaking up nature with four lovely women, and occasionally worrying about the most important man in my life, who we left to face his first week of college alone. It was one of those weeks that seems long and mundane while it's happening (though in this case interspersed with moments of sublime beauty), but ends with a shock, and the realization that something has profoundly changed.

My daughters, seven years apart in age, seemed closer than ever during this trip. For the first time in my memory, flawed as it is, I could see a friendship emerging between them. Patience and genuine affection made not only fleeting appearances, but sustained visitations. They appeared to delight in each other's company even to the point that the adults were kept at arm's length for extended periods, the privacy of which makes me hesitate to write about it here. It was clear to me that, for this week at least, they were sisters in every sense of the word, and I loved every minute of it.

This wasn't their first trip without their brother, but knowing that he was at a turning point in his life might have brought them a little closer together. Even though he's still living at home, it's possible that they both sense that his life is starting to diverge from theirs. I think we all felt a little in awe of the fact that Cody was breaking new ground while we were tracing footsteps that we had laid down many times before. And for Maddie, there is also perhaps the realization that her sister is only a couple of years away from heading down the same path as her brother.

Despite any misgivings we might have had about leaving him to face this week alone, Cody survived it relatively unscathed. He is now officially a college student, and seeing his excitement is extremely gratifying, especially in contrast to the abject terror he seemed to be feeling before we left. He seems to be settling in just fine, and as parents, we're settling into our role as auditors (a class cancelled in the first week of school??).

So maybe profound is too strong a word to describe the change this week ushered in. This weekend, after all, has been fairly ordinary. Doing yard work with Cody, making dinner, other chores around the house, family movie night, the usual sibling rivalries back in full force ... all seems back to normal. Something is indeed different, though, which makes me wonder if the change is more internal than external. I can sense that something in our family dynamic has shifted ever so slightly. I can't quite put my finger on it, which is a little unnerving, because if there's anything more uncomfortable than change, it's ambiguous change.

Three funerals and a graduation

My life, or at least the periphery of my life, has undergone momentous change in the last few weeks. Three deaths and a high school graduation are a lot to process.

And yet, on the surface at least, little has changed. My parents are both orphans, and my father is short one brother. My son will start college in the fall. The most profound impact will be on my mother, who is no longer the caretaker of two elderly women and one ailing brother-in-law. On a personal level, however, time just keeps marching on at its normal, uninspired pace.

With so much external change, it seems like something should be happening internally. If nothing else, I suppose a creeping sense of my own mortality is lingering there just beneath the surface, nudged into a less dormant state by these events. Even my son's graduation is a not-so-subtle reminder of the fleeting passage of time. His childhood marks the span of my own passing from young and stupid to middle-aged and perplexed, a period of sublime transformation for him, and an unremarkable progression for me.

This awareness might be more pronounced, but the existential angst one might expect is noticeably lacking. No dread, no panic, no spiritual crisis. If anything (and this is the one thing that scares me), there's more of an acceptance of the path I've taken, and a kind of fatalism regarding the future.

Doing what you love, loving what you do

My oldest child is currently in his senior year of high school. During this very strange time, I'm having difficulty remembering what it was like to be in his shoes. Granted, my son and I are quite different, with his aspirations falling squarely in the performing arts, where I ended up pursuing my adolescent fantasies of being a fighter pilot by starting my college career as an aerospace engineering major in a Naval ROTC program. Nevertheless, with application deadlines looming, I'm more than a little perplexed by his apparent lack of resolve to move beyond high school and embrace this next phase of his life.

Given the outcomes of my own aborted first attempt at college life, however, my feelings about how best to approach my son's apparent apathy are conflicted and nebulous at best. Pushing him into a corner and forcing him to make life altering decisions at this juncture could be disastrous. This is one of the most vulnerable times in a young person's life, a time when fear and self-doubt, along with confusion and the expectations of others, can converge to undermine personal goals and self-determination. This is not the breeding ground of well-thought out, intentional decisions or behavior. It can be the catalyst for a series of irreversible decisions that  alter the course of a person's life in profound and sinister ways.

A couple of weeks ago, I sent a link to Steve Jobs's well-known commencement speech at Stanford University to my son. I don't know if he watched it, but my hope was that he would take to heart Jobs's message about the importance of finding what you love to do and then doing it well. My son is in the enviable position for a 17-year-old of knowing exactly what he wants to do, and already being quite good at it. Which makes it all the more frustrating on some level that his ambition isn't translating into a concerted effort to find the right school and do everything in his power to make sure that school is within his reach. Then again, another point Jobs makes with something short of subtlety is that a traditional college education is exactly what he didn't need to find his niche and make his mark on the world. So maybe my son intuitively understands what it took Jobs several semesters at Stanford to discover. I know I'm grabbing at straws, but if there's one thing I have come to realize about my son, it's that I can't presume to be either smarter than him or, in some areas, wiser than him.

So how do you guide your child at such a precarious and potentially costly turning point without the whole scenario blowing up in your face? I'm a firm believer that our children need to be allowed to fail, but I also believe that our children can and should learn from our mistakes (or can they?). I guess the best thing I can do at this point is share my own experiences with my son and then let him draw his own conclusions. The key is I have to have a heart-to-heart with him, and soon ... before it's too late.

Prezi project completed

My final project for the Instructional Systems Technology certificate I received from Indiana University:

The Senior Project Capstone Course at Millikan High School on Prezi

Dogzilla

 

Maddie @ Universal Citywalk

Palm Springs

Palm Springs,
originally uploaded by mademcod.

One of the highlights of our Palm Springs trip in May.

Well, we did it ... we're a month into our remodel, and it's coming along nicely. We're adding over 700 sq. ft. to the back of the house, and as of last night, it's all framed in. We were actually able to walk through the addition from room to room and really get a feel for what it's going to be like when it's finished. Very exciting!

Yes, adding on is a stressful business, but I'd still recommend it to anyone who loves their neighborhood and their house, but just needs more room. The thrill of seeing something you designed come to life before your eyes is well worth the endless decisions and the unnerving aspects of trusting someone else to run the project. Hopefully I'll have some pics up on Flickr soon.

Change or Die: "The paradox holds that big changes are easier than small ones. " There's a truism I can vouch for. I can't manage to drag my ass out of bed a couple of hours earlier each morning without some form of external motivation, or sit down to write a page or two each night, but I can quit drinking with relative ease. Excellent article all around.

See how old she's getting?

I'll take an apple martini,
originally uploaded by mademcod.

And this photo was taken a couple of months ago!

Last night was an eventful one in my household. First, my youngest, Maddie, went peepee in the potty -- woohoo! Then, she decided she was too big for her crib, and proceeded to get out on her own. What a nice surprise to hear the pitter-patter of her little feet coming down the hall. So, she got to sleep on the living room floor on the mattress from my son's top bunk. I have no idea what time she finally got to sleep. I guess it's time -- as my wife has been telling me for a couple of weeks now -- to take down the crib.

My oldest, my son Cody, turned 11 yesterday. Only 2 years away from being a teenager! He's been having a good week ... party on Saturday, dinner with my parents on Wednesday, lunch with Mom and Grandma yesterday, ice cream last night, and dinner this Sunday night with the whole family. I don't remember turning 11 being such a big deal for me! I'm glad so much focus is being put on him, though. It's driving his sister Emilee crazy.

The getting home early is working out pretty well. I think Tammy is much less stressed out in the afternoons. I have to be careful not to add to the chaos and stress instead of alleviating it, though. I caught myself yelling at the kids quite a bit the other day. They were driving me nuts with their complete lack of attention to keeping the house clean after Tammy had worked on it all day.

Life is very strange. I was up 'til after midnight last night talking to my wife about our relationship, and I felt like we were really talking for the first time in years. I always thought that I would be the one who was closed off to other people. It turns out that she's been shutting me out for I don't know how long. I guess part of me knew this, but it's still hard to accept. There's something she's not telling me. It's clear that she doesn't trust me enough to tell me. Hell, can I blame her?

She told me that what she wants out of me is a partner, a "companion". Do I know how to do this? It's a huge responsibility. I've spent much of my life avoiding companionship. Can I change that?

How does anyone find inspiration to write at 7 0'clock in the morning?

I started reading Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning last night. Here are some questions I having going into it:

• How is Frankl going to reconcile extreme tragedy and extreme cruelty with the existential optimism he promotes?
• How did he survive the loss of almost his entire family without succumbing to bitterness and defeat?
• Is there a philosophical or religious foundation to his pscychological theories? If so, does he believe that it is necessary for proponents of his theories to share his personal beliefs? What about people who aren't really "deep thinkers"? Are they excluded?
• How does Frankl's humanistic view differ from Robinson Jeffers' inhumanistic view?

I'm looking forward to reading this book. I read a book a while ago that supposedly applied Frankl's principles to work, and I wasn't terribly impressed. I suspect that the writer portrayed an overly simplistic view of Frankl's ideas, so I'm looking forward to hearing them from the source.

the sunset...

the sunset...,
originally uploaded by Esthr.

Just testing. Amazing photograph, isn't it?

My 10-year old son beat me at chess last night, and I'm not quite sure how to feel about that. Yes, it was luck, and a stupid mistake on my part, but when it comes down to it, I left a door open for him and he made himself at home. I wish I could say I felt only pride, but mingled in with that was a bit of panic that my son might become a better player than me. Kind of an odd sensation ... I expect it in most of my relationships outside of my immediate family, but I don't usually feel it with my kids, or my wife for that matter. I'm not sure if I feel threatened, but there is definitely something discomforting about the sensation.

There was pride, though, and it was gratifying to see him so pleased with himself for finally beating me. Scary, but it wasn't more than 2 weeks ago that he beat me for the first time at Stratego, which clearly gave him the same sort of satisfaction. I guess I need the practice as much as he does (or more).

I don't have much time before my battery dies, so I'll try to be quick. Which shouldn't be difficult, because I don't really have anything to say. I read something about journaling last night. Why is it so easy for some people to write about nothing and everything? I don't get it. All I write is crap, because I can't think of anything interesting to write about. Sure, after years of writing every day, something is bound to float to the top of the cesspool, but who has the time or the inclination to wade into it in the first place?

B.E.S.T. Practices Repository

Just watched the Nick Berg video for the first time. Gut-wrenching doesn't quite capture the feeling of watching it. Dehumanization taken to the extreme. Got to admit, though, that the conspiracy theorists out there, while perhaps grasping at straws in trying to point out discrepancies in the video, have picked up on the fact that the government has a whole lot to gain from perpetuating the brutality one-upmanship that that this video seems to reinforce. Lots of sick shit in this world.

Well, it's been a long time since I posted anything to this blog. Not sure that I have anything worthwhile to say now, but I'll give it a shot nonetheless. I tell you what, there's nothing less motivating to bear your soul in writing than to read a series of freshman comp critical responses. I'm being unfair, though. There were a few responses that were thought-provoking and perceptive, but man, if I have to read one more reference to an essay as a "story" or a story as an "essay" or an essay as a "book", or see Mark Twain referred to as "Mark" ... well, enough ranting. There's really no point.

With my long absence, I guess a bit of news is in order. I am currently the proud father of a 4 month old beauty named Madalynn Rose. She's my third child, second daughter, and quite a handful. She smiles all the time now, and today I think I heard her laugh for the first time. We got out the Johnny Jumper today and put her in it for the first time. She loved it, for a little while at least, and we got some great video of her in it. Once again I have a little angel in my life reminding me what it's all about.

I'm having trouble keeping my own eyes open, let alone yours, so I'm calling it a night.