Parenting

Growing up, from the time I was a teenager to the time I was in my mid-twenties, I never thought that I would have a child to raise. Once I was faced with the reality of this important responsibility, it caught me unprepared. I was one of those people who was not particularly comfortable around children. Now I had a daughter of my own. From that point on, I suspect that I proceeded along like many folks, just doing the best that I could, trusting on instinct and love to get me through. Now that my daughter is a teenager, most of my time with her seems like a blur. I don't know what I did or how I did it, but I do know that I am very proud of who she is and how she carries herself. I think that so far, given that I had no game plan or set of strategies or any trace of parenting experience, I have been exceedingly lucky and overwhelmingly blessed. But I also fully conscious that my job is not over, and I still have many important things to pass on to give my daughter the best chance to be independent, confident, and successful as she navigates her own future.

When I came across Charles Swindoll's book, Parenting - From Surviving to Thriving, I felt that it would be a worthwhile read for me. At its heart, this book is about raising your children in a Christian home and demonstrating for your children precisely what that means. Swindoll begins from the following key mission statement on parenting:

The job of a parent is to help his or her children come to know themselves, grow to like themselves, and find satisfaction in being themselves.

He then takes us through some key scriptures that provide biblical insight to support this statement, notably in the books of Proverbs and Psalms. He also gives specific examples from the biblical narrative of important lessons to be gleaned from several of the Old Testament patriarchs and from parables told by Jesus in the New Testament. I used this book as part of my devotional time and felt that it was time well spent.

iTunes Latest - 5

Back in December of 2011, I finally discovered iTunes on my Mac. This service has really helped me to reconnect with my love of music. One of the things that I really like about music is that so often a given song has a strong association with a time or with a moment in my life. So, I thought that I would share my latest five downloads and a bit about my history with each song.

• I Kissed A Girl - Katy Perry (2008) - I know what you are thinking on this one. Why? For some reason this is just such an in your face, infectious joy ride of a song, with more than a subtle hint of titillation, that it just puts a smile on my face.
  
• Go Insane (Live) - Lindsey Buckingham (2008) - I am a big fan of Fleetwood Mac and of Lindsey's guitar playing. This live, solo guitar piece has an entirely different quality than the keyboard driven single from 1984, but it is haunting and lovely.
  
• No Sugar Tonight - The Guess Who (1970) - This song is definitely my favorite release from this group. Burton Cummings, the lead singer on this work, sounds like what a rock star should sound like.
  
• Long Cool Woman - The Hollies (1972) - Another oldie but goodie. I have always turned the radio up when this one came on and have more than once belted this one out while pretending that I was up on a stage in front of a sold-out auditorium.
  
• This is My Night - Chaka Khan (1984) - While I am not a fan of Chaka Khan's music, this one pulled me in when I first saw its video on MTV. I like the message and feeling of empowerment that this one throws out there.
  

Mirror, Mirror

The other day I was rummaging through the junk drawer in my kitchen. As I was pawing my way through the massed odds and ends, the overhead light reflected back a flash that sent me into a wonderful daydream. All triggered by the sight of a small black-framed mirror, the kind that you clip onto the visor in your car. I got this mirror initially when my daughter was a tiny baby so that I could keep an eye on her. But it stayed attached to my visor all the way up to the time that she was in elementary school, when she finally moved up to the front passenger seat of the car.

I used this mirror for many years so that I could look into my daughter's eyes and she into mine whenever we went anywhere in the car. I believe that real connection happens between two people when they can look into each other's eyes. I didn't just talk to the windshield and she didn't just talk to the back of my headrest. We shared so much through that mirror. Even now when I gaze into it I still see the reflections of all the stages of that young girl who always looked to me for connection, for company, for support, for security, for a sounding board, and for sharing her dreams.

After I pulled the mirror out from its internment in the bottom of the kitchen drawer, I decided that it shouldn't go back there. It should be put somewhere where it can continue to help me reflect on those old and treasured memories in my life.

Crisis

The following anecdote is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

(Sound intro)

6:00 a.m. - A torrential rainstorm moves over the modest residential house of a respected middle-aged man.

6:45 a.m. - The rainstorm shows no signs of abating. The man starts to get nervous that his yard is flooding. This sets him into an irritable, edgy mood.

7:25 a.m. - The storm continues to dump water from the heavens at an ever-increasing rate. The man's yard is under 6 inches of water, a level that has never been seen before. A new concern is that the man's pool is getting dangerously close to the overflow stage.

8:30 a.m. - The pool is less than an inch from overflow. The man makes the decision that he must empty water out so that it does not get behind the pool liner, potentially causing thousands of dollars in damages.

8:45 a.m. - The man enters his cramped pool pump house and is instantly swarmed by blood-thirsty mosquitos. He is already soaked to the skin just from the short walk out there. After extending the drain hose into the back of his yard, he engages the pump to start draining water from the pool. Immediately the hose ruptures.

8:52 a.m. - After frantically re-attaching the hose to the outlet pipe, a task nearly impossible to pull off with wet hands, a second attempt is made to turn on the pump. The hose ruptures again.

8:53 a.m. - The man begins muttering words that would instantly turn a bottle of ultra-pure spring water jet black. In his rising anger he hits his head on the shelf in the pump house and badly skins two of his fingers trying to fend off the increasing mosquito swarm.

9:21 a.m. - A third attempt at attaching the drain hose leads to a third rupture. The pool is beginning to overflow. The man rips the hose stub off the outlet pipe and begins chewing on it and screaming at the top of his lungs.

9:47 a.m. - The man throws his hands up and heads back inside, throwing a hissy fit in his garage that would make a two-year old envious.

10:35 a.m. - The man heads back outside to try again and notices several holes in the remaining hose stub and no further attempts can be made. He begins screaming like a rabid idiot. The rain abruptly stops and the world did not, in fact, come to an end.

---

This man clearly showed how not to act in times of crisis. Can you spot where he went wrong?

Chunk O' Change

There are lots of folks who, if you give them the slightest opportunity, will blather on and on about the joys of owning your own home. They will throw out specious arguments like what a great investment it is. But this statement is pure nonsense as you can't spend a dollar that is packed with all of your earthly belongs including your rare LP collection of Barry Manilow recordings. They will then try to counter by telling you that you get all sorts of tax breaks. Again this is the prattle of a cretin. Spending $1000 to get $1 back still leaves me $999 in the hole. I think a child of three could even understand these economics. Finally, they will try to tell you that money that goes into a mortgage is not lost like money that goes to a landlord. My response? You're a quarter short of a nickel! For every two dollars that I pay in mortgage, half goes to pay the interest on the loan. Then there is the joy of insurance, property taxes, home upkeep fees, llama surcharges, etc, etc, etc. Plus you had better set aside huge piles of cash to pay for the unexpected. Such as new heating and air conditioning units that either die without 30 days written notice or are so ineffectual that it is actually comical.

The above photos show the before and after of the work the HVAC crew did in my house recently. I took a photo of the workers as they were carting away a wheelbarrel filled with what was once my hard-earned cash. They were singing and whistling like the seven dwarfs as they left my property. The memories were too raw on this one, so I will save that picture for another post. As I was laying in the fetal position on the floor trying to recover, I could swear that I heard the shingles up on the roof whispering in clipped and hushed tones something about a revolt. I am going to need a bigger wheelbarrow for that one.

The Kingdom

The final book in Bryan Litfin's Chiveis trilogy is entitled The Kingdom. This part of the story picks up on the heels of the second book The Gift. Through a very trying and painful set of trials and ordeals, our intrepid heroes, Teo and Ana of the kingdom of Chiveis, have at last recovered the New Testament of the Bible of Christendom. These stories and teachings had been lost for hundreds of years due to the actions of dark and powerful forces. Those who had been seeking Deus have finally started to understand who the suffering servant was and that he was one and the same with the triumphant king. The second great commission begins to move out from Rome into the surrounding kingdoms. Yet unspeakable suffering is being plotted against all who call on the name of the God of the ancients.

Teo and Ana, now with a version of the complete Bible translated into their native tongue, begin to travel back to their homeland. A return that should be marked by victory and hope is overshadowed by a powerful alliance of followers of the underworld god Astrebril. The armies of darkness have been marshalled in direct response to the growing threat posed by those who follow Deus. New believers are being welcomed into the ranks of the blessed and the numbers are becoming too large to discretely handle. A final showdown is inevitable, but despite the seemingly hopeless odds of the believers, their triumph is assured.

This was a very enjoyable series to spend time with. I thank my online friend Bill at Cycleguy's Spin for the suggestion to read this trilogy. It was very interesting to consider this version of a futuristic Earth and to travel with these compelling protagonists as they learned to trust a God they were only just getting to know.

Listen

When my daughter was quite young, she eagerly looked forward to me coming home from work so that she could share everything that had happened to her that day. Nothing was held back - funny things she heard, plot lines from videos she watched, songs she had made up, treasures she had discovered, and all of her big ideas. She just bubbled over with excitement relaying all of the things that she had stored up to tell me. Today, our conversations are noticeably different, neither deep nor wide. Our exchanges are limited mostly to lite and forgettable fare - comments on the weather, commentary on our TV program, the plans for dinner. Moments after they are uttered, they settle to the ground forgotten. How did a loving relationship get to this point?

The other day my daughter and I were watching television. She was sitting on the couch in the living room and I was in the kitchen putting away the dishes from our lunch. I took the opportunity to slip into my bathroom. While I was in there, I could hear her talking. As she still thought I was just behind her in the kitchen, her voice assumed a conversational tone. I knew that she was speaking, but I just could not make out the words.

That got me to thinking about how many times when we have actually been in the same room and where she said something that didn't register with me. Perhaps I was too focussed on the TV, too engrossed in my book, or just lost in my own thougths. I wonder how our communication would be today had I made a concerted effort not just to hear her, but to really listen to what she said. Would it have made any difference? Would we be in a different place than we are now? Will things ever get any better or is the die already cast?