It's Hard When It Gets Easier

The evolution of my role as father is more or less as follows:

1. Awkward observer

2. Eager helper

3. Worker bee (drone)

4. Clean up crew

5. Body guard

6. Psychological torture victim (aka "when the female mastered language")

7. Courier

8. Referee

9. Coach

So far the work has been physically demanding, a massive endurance challenge. But the objectives have been straight forward. Get kids to school on time and alive, for example, is a logistics problem with pretty clear inputs and objectives.

But strange days are arriving. Hints of adolecence are upon us. The first "body image" concern was recently expressed. The physical demands have eased. Not getting at least 7 hours of sleep is now of my own doing (Monday Night Football is on late, you know) and almost never because of the kids. Two thirds of them tie their own shoes.

How quaint do such concerns suddenly seem, however, now that reasons to worry have increased (I mean, they're just out in the world, like, doing stuff...without me) while influence is indirect and endangered. I realize "Coach" should have been earlier than number nine on the list above.

Dream Team

Caleb decided to try out for the "Dream Team" of his Tae Kwon Do dojo. This involved all manner of speed, strength, and flexibility tests. And man did he want it bad.

I know how flexible he is. I stretch with him in the mornings (can I say "in the mornings" if we got up three mornings and stretched and worked out?). When they asked him to go a little farther, he was at his limit. But then he just did it, pushing through obvious pain to reach about two more inches. And so on with the rope climb and speed kicks and other drills. Enduring pain to stretch his capacity.

I was proud of him. I might have cried a little in the dojo lobby.

He made the team.

Henry meanwhile, is doing great in soccer, so far as it goes at age five. They play three on three with no goalies and no throw ins. When a ball goes out, the ref just tosses another into the middle of the field. Henry's big advantage is that he never stops running yet never gets tired. Also, he just loves it. Sometimes he misses the ball because he is laughing so hard. Nothing "funny" has happened. It's just that playing soccer makes him laugh.

Unrelated to the sports theme, but funny, Maddie says to me today, "Dad, isn't it kind of weird that a naked baby would be a symbol of love?" It took me a moment to realize she was referring to cupid. Then I realized, yeah, that's totally weird.

Fathers and Sons

I took the boys camping with our church's "Fathers and Sons" activity. During a brief program at a large fire, the speaker concluded with the hope that kids will be able to bond with their dads. Caleb put his head on my shoulder and said, "Yeah, dad, we're bonding."

Later, just before going to bed, I hugged Henry and Caleb and told them how much I loved them. Henry looked up with a surprised expression. "Dad, I love you too," as though making an unexpected discovery.

So that was a good event for me. I hope they liked it too.

In the morning we raced back to Arlington and caught the end of Maddie's soccer game. Then we stopped by McDondalds on our way to Caleb's baseball game where Katie dropped me off with C while she went to Henry's soccer game. After which we raced home and got Maddie showered and changed and ran her over to a birthday party and then hurried to a park for Caleb to meet his friend. And then we thought, we could use a second car.

Jawbreaker

Caleb's torture apparatus is fully installed. We have been turning the crank two clicks every night for a week now. He grimaces, holds out is hands for a while in sort of a "calm-the-waters" gesture, and then says, "I'm good." Not a single complaint.

The day it was installed, he noted his new and distorted speech and commented to the orthodontist, "How will I make new friends talking like this?" The orthodontist teared up. Katie teared up. Guess who did not tear up? Caleb.

In his Caleb way, he asked more as an observation of a new problem to be solved than as an expression of self pity or a request for sympathy (though sometimes he plays that card masterfully to acquire new toys). And he has largely solved the problem. This may be correlation and not causation, but immediately he increased his time spent reading aloud, improving his speech to the point that the impediment is hardly noticeable.

I've always loved my kids. Then, as they got a little older, I liked them as well. Now they are giving me opportunities to genuinely admire them. Parenting is a cool gig.

Summer 2013 Photos: Disney World and Misc.

A little target practice at Merida's place.

Maddie likes the hotel room view of zebras, giraffes, and so forth.

Caleb conquered Everest

Captain Jack Sparrow grants Caleb a pirate diploma

Summer 2013 Photos: Camping and 4th of July

Redfish Lake

Floating Bed Garage

Special thanks to Krisy Wolle for lawn access during the parade!

4th of July in Idaho, therefore camels. Duh.

A Five Year Old Psyche

June

"We're going back to America for seven weeks."

"How can I go to kindergarten in Egypt if we go to America for seven years?"

July

"Is Idaho our new home."

August

"Can we go home."

"Well, we can't right now because of the evacuation. We don't know when we will be going back."

September

"It's the last day of summer vacation!"

"Yeah. We can finally go back to Egypt and see my, I mean our, cat."

"No, buddy, we have to stay here. We're going to school here."

"But how we will find each other?"

Saw VIII: The Orthodontist

The gym of the Amman Marriott has treadmills equipped with small television sets right in front of your face. They automatically turn on when you step on the treadmill. I've run on them approximately 84 times, but still can't figure out how to change the channel or even turn it off.

So one morning this past July, my most recent Jordan trip, I stepped on the treadmill and was presented the choice of running while watching a supremely distasteful horror gore bloodfest movie, or not running. My commitment to the run won the day, but at a high price. I don't watch horror films, ever. Hate them. This opinion was confirmed.

Fast forward to yesterday. Katie is explaining to me the details, with photos and charts, of what the orthodontist is planning to do to Caleb's mouth. It was like a flashback to the treadmill. I've seen this movie before!

We have to turn a crank every day that slowly splits his jaw in half. What kind of sadistic torture is this! Then they say, all casual like, "Bone and cartilage will eventually just fill in the gap we create in the roof of his mouth." Wait, what?

I've often wondered why these terrible movies even have a market. Now I know: Orthodontists.

Who Misses a Flight to Disney World?

We were on vacation anyway when the evacuation was announced. In fact, we were in the Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho and didn't even know of the "counter revolution" until three days after it happened.

We were in the midst of a typically Tim-Hart-overplanned summer fun extravaganza, mapped out in five minute increments for each of 18 days (I exaggerate only slightly). This meticulous and glorious detail included these ill-fated numerals: 0700 (yes, I plan in military time as it is way easier when up to 8 time zones are involved).

On the morning of our IDA to MCO (yes, I travel enough that I now think in airport codes, so to translate, that's Idaho Falls to Orlando) we were casually driving to the airport at 0600. As we neared the airport, Maddie said, "Cool, look at that plane taking off."

There just aren't that many flights out of Idaho Falls. It took about one second to realize this was bad. Suddenly the scales fell from my eyes and I saw clearly. I remembered the emails received one day prior: "Check in online now for your 6:00 am flight." Oops.

Funny (I use that word because otherwise I get too mad at myself) that writing 0700 on my master schedule created a confirmation bias so powerful that when I received that email, I understood it as "Check in by 6:00 am for your flight."

In any case, there remained the problem of not that many flights departing IDA. We couldn't get to MCO for two more days. Tears were shed. We began making alternative plans to just rent a car and drive to Disneyland that very day.

Ultimately, at the expense of time with Papa J (which had been scheduled to follow five days at Disney World), we were able to push back all Disney reservations two days to spend the same time there.

But seriously, who misses a flight to Disney World?

The Cairo Game

We could be going back in two weeks, in which case this two bedroom high-rise apartment is perfect because it is right at the metro stop and in the heart of shopping, restaurants, and entertainment. Or we could be going back in 4 months, in which case three kids in one room and constant fighting over who gets to push elevator buttons is just not going to cut it.

Two weeks: rental car. 4 months: buy a reasonable old car.

Two weeks: claim $600 evacuation allowance (once claimed you cannot have any items shipped). 4 months: have up to 700 pounds of our stuff shipped to us. Once shipped, it could take up to a month to arrive, by which time we could be back in Egypt, where we would wait up to a month for our stuff to be shipped back to us. Note that because we were on vacation when evacuation was announced, we have with us only what we took on vacation.

Not complaining, mind you. The evacuation per diem is generous. Just smiling about the quirks of the situation.

Idaho Trip Special Moments

Found a computer, had to get these out before I forgot.

Caleb, while a panoramic x-ray was being administered at the dentist: "Are you sure this isn't a mind control machine? How do I know I will still be me when this is over?"

And during his eye exam: "First of all, I'm going to need to know what all these weapons are for?"

Then Caleb and I conquered the roller coasters of Disney World. Maddie didn't want to. Henry was too short, and I don't suspect he really wanted to either. Caleb had been afraid of Space Mountain, but decided to try it when we saw no line early one morning. He was proud and thrilled when it was over. So then we conquered Expedition Everest. As a token of his bravery, he bought and wore proudly a pin representing the ride.

And then we just kept riding the "mountain rides" over and over. Each time he would say, just before the ride started, "Listen, dad, I'm not even going to scream."

More later.