Category Archives: family

Is School Making My Child Dumb?

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Lets be honest. My son hates going to school. He complains that it’s making him dumb. And he might be right. It’s not necessarily indicative of a bad teacher (Jones’ teacher is incredible consistent and structured which are both very important for Jones in many ways) neither is it wholly indicative of a poorly run school. Rather more and more I am becoming convinced that the system is just not setup well for children who don’t fit the mold.

In Jones’ words he says that…

I just sit all day, I’m not allowed to ask questions, I can’t think for myself, and they just want me to be like everyone else! It’s too hard when you could be playing. You’re just sitting in side where you can’t really do anything. If I were outside I’d love to play with Legos, listen to books on tape more…My teacher makes me angry sometimes.

On his first day of school Jones refused to say the pledge of allegiance, he’s kind of always marched to the beat of a different drum, and school is no different.

Don’t get me wrong, he is learning. His reading skills, for example, have developed in major ways. But the things that we love most about him: his creativity, his different view of life, his scientific mind, his critical thinking skills, etc. are things that do not have much space in school as it currently exists. Jess and I grieve the situation as it is and we eagerly anticipate us figuring out how we can be agents of improvement (not necessarily in the system but with regard to our children).

You’ve probably seen this video, but it struck me again now that my child is in first grade just now true it is.

Welcome Back!? Chemo, Surgery, Ambulances, Mangeld Toes, and More

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We got back from Hawaii late Tuesday night. Wednesday was a whirlwind of excited (and jealous) kids. Thursday was filled with meetings, appointments, and general catching up.

then.

Friday hit.

Friday morning Jess’ sister had surgery (second in a month). Friday night I started chemo. Friday night India got her toe smashed under my parents front door. Her and Jones were playing and chasing each other when next thing we knew India was outside screaming. From the window next to the front door my dad could see India laying flat on her back with her toe wedged in the shut door. The only thing we could think to do was to rip the door open. The girl was in pretty extreme pain and the toe was mangled to the extent that the four seasoned parents present were awkwardly shook up. To make a long story short, by Saturday and after a trip to the hospital (our wonderful medical care does not have urgent care nor are they able to do same day or, as it would seem, same week appointments), India’s toe was “simply” mangled and bone bruised but not broken (they don’t think).

Saturday and Sunday consisted of chemo, a housewarming party, our regular Sunday Community meal, Jess taking care of her post-surgery-sister, a kids birthday party, and India’s hospital visit for her toe.

Monday morning at about 8am as India was laying in bed something popped in her neck. She cried and screamed for about forty-five minutes and did not move her neck (literally) from that moment until this morning (Tuesday). Not knowing what happened nor the extent of the damage we were instructed by the advice nurse to not move her and that she needed to be seen by a doctor. So we called an ambulance. The paramedics were able to discern that it was most likely nothing having to do with the spine and was probably muscle pain. They were able to get her to wiggle her head just a bit, enough to give us confidence that she didn’t need to be shipped via an ambulance. We decided to give it some time, if it was just muscular in nature then we figured a kinked neck didn’t necessarily need hospital treatment. Then we started reading about tetanus symptoms (remember India had just had her toe shaved off by the metal flashing from a door and has not had a tetanus shot) and decided that maybe we should take her in! On the way to the ER we called our naturopath to get some advice and even though it was his day off he had us meet him at his clinic. At the clinic Dr. Zeff checked her out, gave her some magic homeopathic stuff, and ruled out tetanus. Still unable to move her neck and still in incredible pain we at least re-confirmed that it wasn’t some catastrophic bad thing. That night we took her into a chiropractor (he stayed after hours in order to treat her!) where he spent about an hour and a half working with her, helping her understand what was going on, and trying to help her remove some of the pain and gain back mobility. We couldn’t have been more impressed with him (we’ll see him again today).

The good news is that India woke up this morning with better movement, less pain, and more energy. Mom and dad on the other hand…woke up this morning exhausted and ready for a vacation. Hawaii anyone?

Here’s India’s take on the whole thing:

Once I hurt my toe it was so bad I cried and cried. And they had to lift the door up to get my toe out and pull it open and some of my skin pulled off. And umm once my neck got hurt as I was rolling in the blankets. And I thought it popped but it just automatically got hurt. The end.

Back from Hawaii and back to blogging

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I keep putting off writing this blog because I want it to be perfect. In some way I want to effectively capture with pictures that have been edited and with stories that have been shaped well enough to capture how wonderful our time in Hawaii was. But that ain’t gonna happen! Turns out when you’re gone for eight days life continues to move forward and quite a large pile of things to do builds up! Writing the perfect blog is losing out to other necessary and good things that top the to do list.

For those of you who do not know, Jess and I were surprised by her family with a trip to Hawaii (Oahu, where her brother is stationed). It was a last minute affair where we had less than two of awareness before we flew out. We spent three nights at a secluded resort on the rural/tropical side of the island where we were surprisingly upgraded to a room with our own private deck that overlooked the bay. Each morning we sat on our deck serenaded by roosters, splashing fish, and tropical birds of a thousand kinds. We spent those three and a half days on that side of the island and the older North Shore side. We ate lots of good food, watched sunrises together, shopped randomly, and even went to bed by 5pm one night (don’t judge me). Next we transitioned to staying at my brother and sister-in-laws home where we were able to spend time with their family. They took us snorkeling with sea turtles, we toured Pearl Harbor, we ate more good food, spent some time in Waikiki, and enjoyed being together.

Honestly I didn’t ever think I’d be a “Hawaii guy”–you know, the dude that comes home and always raves about it and talks about how he wants to go back…but, yeah, it was pretty fantastic. More than anything I got to spend time with my wife. If you called, texted, or facebooked me you were completely ignored (at least for the first four days). It was our time. No kids. No doctors appointments. No work. No hospitality. No housemates. No housework. Just us…and a lot of chickens and roosters (seriously, they were everywhere!).

I could tell you lots of stories and I hope they emerge over time. Stories of Jones’ jealousy, stories of my awkward buoyancy, stories of sunrises at garbage filled beaches, stories of monsoons, of scattered and dissolving medicine…good stories.

For now, here are a few quick and unedited photos from our trip. Glad to be back and I look forward to writing again.

Peace.

 

This is where we went snorkeling. So much fun! (aside from all the cuts on my legs from the coral! One of the pains of not having feeling down there!)

Good picture of the turtle...not a great picture of Jess...but come on, we swam with frickin' sea turtles!

The view from our deck!

It was nice to be able to kayak any time we wanted right in the bay at our resort

Stop Being Spineless and Get Organized

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I’d like to say that I can’t believe that I never realized this before but that would be disingenuous because it’s fairly common for me to not realize things about myself. I shouldn’t really be surprised by this fact anymore.

Jessica and I often lament the fact that we don’t do routine well. All we’ve ever wanted for our family and for ourselves is to be people that are consistent, that live by a healthy set of rhythms, and that have a handful of specific (fun) patterns that shape our lives. Instead we often find ourselves scattered and on the go, random, and a bit all over the place.

Often when we get rid of the kids for a day or two our ideal time together is to go to Storables and figure out what we could buy that would better organize our lives. Maybe its just a matter of having a better calendar, a better app on our phones, or better shelving in our closet…or maybe the problem is just us.

It’s not all bad though. The thing is is that some of our best qualities as a family and as individuals exist in juxtaposition to a routine and organized life. We’re spontaneous, we’re relaxed and easy going, and we’ll generally scrap any plans if it allows us to spend time with people.

Here’s the awkward realization though…I am a fairly organized person and I am a very routine driven person. I shower the EXACT same way every morning, I put on my deodorant, brush my teeth, take my medicines, put on my clothes, etc. in virtually the exact same way every single day. I keep my backpack in a specific way, keep my computer files organized in a specific way, put my keys in the same spot every day, put the same three things in my pockets every day, blah, blah, blah, etc. etc. Routine is actually quite important to how I function as a person.

Jessica is driven by anticipation, by the next fun event. She moves through life looking for the next party or defining experience. She’s an incredible visionary because she has a knack for seeing what does not yet exist, she’s incredibly fun to be around because she’s excitable and entertaining, she’s passionate about moving forward and about growth. But her challenge is valuing the moment enough to live in it (rather than in anticipation of the next moment). So organization and routine do not fit who she is very well, it’s taxing and a great challenge to who she is. I, on the other hand, am driven by creating peace and stability in my environment. I want/need things to be chill, to have few extremes, and to be balanced. My tendency is to change my opinion solely based on whether or not I think it will create a more peaceful environment around me. So I’m easy to be around but I can be potentially spineless and can painfully undermine people’s feelings (if you’ve got an extreme feeling, valid or not, I’ll want to neutralize it in order to make things safer for myself).

The reason WE have a hard time being organized or living by a certain set of rhythms is that I choose not to bring who I am to the table all the time. I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose, I wouldn’t want to unsettle anything in a person or system around me by trying to make changes or hold others to something that I think would be valuable would I? That might shake up the peace…the peace that I crave so desperately.

So, yeah, I’m the problem. In life in general I’m learning to grow a pair, I’m learning to step out and own my own opinions, I’m learning to value others’ seemingly extreme emotions (and to even value my own), I’m learning that peace is valuable but not at all costs, I’m learning that to shut myself down is to be dishonest. I’m learning…at least I hope I am.

Bastards, two dads, unplanned pregnancies: the Birth story of Jesus

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What a crock! Have any of you paid attention to the lyrics to “Away in a Manger”? Really? Jesus didn’t cry as a baby? Have you ever bucked hay before? Try sleeping in it! You ever see a baby that never cries? That song is just one example of how we have romanticized and thus taken away some of the power of Jesus’ birth story.

How cool is it that Jesus was the bastard child of an unwed teen mom? How cool is it that Jesus has two daddies? How strange is it that Jesus was poor? That he grew up as an illegal alien? That he spent his formative years in the ghetto? That he pooped his pants as a baby. That Jesus had to be potty trained. Potty trained!

The story of Jesus’ birth is not a romantic pretty story of God coming to meet his subjects. No, it is a story that completely captures the experience of humanity in so many ways. When we dull it over we ruin the reality of the story. We miss the beauty of the gift.

Here’s the Christian birth narrative–

A divorced God* decides the only way to bring hope and restoration back to humanity is to work within it. So he sends himself in Jesus as an unplanned pregnancy to a poor teenage mom. He was a child who had to not only hold the tension of having that stigma but he also held the tension of having two dads, one was Joseph and the other was Yahweh–both fathers, both real, both belonging to him. He was born in a barn ’cause apparently daddy number two wasn’t on good speaking terms with his family in Bethlehem. Their impoverished family soon had to flee to Egypt where he grew up as an illegal alien until he was able to return back home to Nazareth–a place that you NEVER want to live and always want to be leaving. It’s the ghetto, it’s Detroit (sorry Detroit).

We’ve missed the story and I think we’ve missed out because of it. Christmas season should propel us to reorient our lives not only around the ideals of the Kingdom of God but around the manner in which that Kingdom was brought to earth. Single moms in our neighborhoods must be cared for! We can’t give them the ugly eye when their kids act up with the store, we must extend grace! The ghetto can’t be avoided as a place too dangerous for us in the burbs (or wherever you live) because Jesus grew up there. That’s his hood…and I  if I were you I’d try to go where Jesus goes ’cause I think he was on to something. Whatever we think about gay marriage maybe we should have space to honor any two individuals regardless of gender who want to love on a child–Jesus seemed to do alright. Maybe we should be gentle with those who come across our border because like Jesus it’s quite possible they’re running from hell on the other side. Maybe the Christmas story is even more than just a season of giving (though that’s pretty frickin’ important and totally fits the story too) but it’s also a season of reorienting our view of humanity because of how Jesus chose to redeem all of it…even Detroit.

 

* All throughout the Bible a metaphor is used referring to God as a jilted lover. As someone who has given his bride (us) everything only to have us turn our backs on him and demand a divorce. Even though he repeatedly says that he hates divorce (’cause divorce so often sucks. We know that) he, in fact, within the metaphor (and everything when talking about God is in fact a metaphor isn’t it?) is a divorced and hurt groom still waiting for things to be made right. God totally gets divorce and thinks that it sucks.