Poop!

Today we experienced an earth-shattering event. Liam pooped in the potty for the first time. This moment has been a long-time coming. After years of gentle persuasion, we have shifted in recent months to desperate measures, and stooped to a number of strategies we vowed to never employ. Attempts to bribe him have included offers of every treat imaginable. But nothing has ever swayed him.

Then Jen cribbed an idea she'd heard about. We went to the local toy store and told Liam he could pick out anything. Anything! But that he could only play with it after he'd pooped in the potty. Fortunately, Liam picked out a Lego rescue helicopter (rather than some $200 scooter). We took it home on Sunday and put it on a mantle. He stared at it all day, wandered in and out of the bathroom, kept asking for it, wandered back to the potty to try again.

I think he must have sat on the potty for several hours off and on when it was all over. But it happened. He's had some serious emotional issues around this. And I'm so proud of him today. Even if our actions will probably get us a write up on ShamefulParenting.com. And it was great to see him so obviously proud of himself.

After the BIG EVENT, I spent an hour assembling the helicopter. Liam simply calls it his Poop Toy. Whatever. Good for him.

Speaking of princess...

Look what's coming to town:

Where do I get tickets?

Princess

Last week, Jen passed along a fascinating piece from Berkeley writer Peggy Orenstein, called, "What's Wrong With Cinderella?" For anyone raising a girl, it's worth checking out here (NY Times registration required, I think. If you can't get in, ask me to email you a copy).

Basically, Orenstein is sounding the alarm over the growing princess trend that's being pushed by marketing agencies onto little girls. There's a lot to think about here. She writes:

Diana may be dead and Masako disgraced, but here in America, we are in the midst of a royal moment. To call princesses a ''trend'' among girls is like calling Harry Potter a book. Sales at Disney Consumer Products, which started the craze six years ago by packaging nine of its female characters under one royal rubric, have shot up to $3 billion, globally, this year, from $300 million in 2001. There are now more than 25,000 Disney Princess items. ''Princess,'' as some Disney execs call it, is not only the fastest-growing brand the company has ever created; they say it is on its way to becoming the largest girls' franchise on the planet.

We've been grappling with gender issues since both kids started in school/daycare last fall. As I've mentioned, Kalian has become a willful little girl. We often catch ourselves calling her "princess" and yet trying to stop ourselves from doing it. Even more, since she's been walking last summer, she's become drawn to so many "girl" things. She's picky about her clothes, shoes, jacket, etc. She's obsessed with her baby dolls.

At the same time, the group of kids in Liam's preschool room tend to be very gender segregated. It's not unusual to walk in and see all the boys in one corner and the girls somewhere else. Lots of people tell us this is typical for the age, but still...It carries on outside the classroom, especially at events like birthday parties.

Recently, at one of the birthday parties we attended, the cake was a giant sculpted "Ariel" from The Little Mermaid. Liam had recently seen the movie and loved it, too. At the party, the girls got tiara's to wear. And the boys got pirate hats. And at the end, there were blue gift bags for the boys, and pink for the girls. The boys' gift bag included a small lego rescue vehild which has immediately become Liam's favorite toy. The people throwing the party are clearly wonderful parents, and their little girl loves mermaid stuff. So why does this immediately set off a mental alarm? Why not just celebrate what your little one loves? Orenstein takes time wondering if she, too, is overacting. Where's the harm? She writes:

On the other hand, maybe I'm still surfing a washed-out second wave of feminism in a third-wave world. Maybe princesses are in fact a sign of progress, an indication that girls can embrace their predilection for pink without compromising strength or ambition; that, at long last, they can ''have it all.'' Or maybe it is even less complex than that: to mangle Freud, maybe a princess is sometimes just a princess. And, as my daughter wants to know, what's wrong with that?

Indeed, what's so awful? The articles raises more questions than it answers, ultimately. And I think that's because there isn't a clear cut answer. We're trying to stick to our philosophy of being gender neutral. But it's difficult.

After reading the article, though, I was curious about the reaction it generated. And the letters from readers hit on some things that we've also worried about:

Actually, little boys have it tougher. When a little girl wants to dress up as Spider-Man, it's no big deal. When a little boy enjoys the thrill of twirling in circles in a pink, sparkly frock, it's frowned upon.

Cara Putzrath

Charlotte N.C.

So true. When Liam first started preschool, and his hair was down to his shoulder, kids would ask him if he was a boy or girl. His favorite thing to bring to school is his baby doll (which he calls Kalian). But we'd walk in sometimes, and some of the kids would ask me why Liam has a doll. "Dolls are for girls," they'd say. "Well, I use to play with dolls," I'd reply (which is true: GI JOE). These days, it's not uncommon for Liam to say: "Boys play sports. Girls can't be firefighters. She can't play with my trucks because she's a girl." We try to be patient in our deprogramming.

Which is not shift the blame to his school, or anyone out here. I agree that this becomes a natural tendency for kids at this age. I guess the question is how -- and how hard -- to fight it?

Movie Night...

We're just wrapping up another movie night and Liam is off to bed. Tonight, "Madagascar" was in the DVD player. I took the kids out to ye olde Blockbuster to get a couple movies, and to get them out of the house for a bit while Jen did some studying.

Movie Night has become a regular feature of our time here in Cambridge. And we've watched enough so that I'm running out of ones that we'll all enjoy. And picking out kids' movies is tricky. For instance, this last week, I put an oldie called "The Yearling" on our Netflix list to watch with Liam. Yowza. Has anyone else seen this G-rated bloodbath? I vaguely remember it, but like so many things I watched as kid, I had forgotten how violent "kids" movies could be.

The set up for the Yearling sounded innocent enough. A family living on the frontier. Their 11-year-old boy, Jody, is lonely and longs for a pet to care for. He adopts a baby deer and raises it. What could be sweeter, right?

Except, of course, living on the frontier means everyone carries guns. So that was problem number one. Then we learn the reason Jody is so lonely: His parents had about 30 different kids, but they all died. We learn this as the camera pans across the numerous gravestones behind their home. ("Daddy, what are those?" "Well, those are gravestones because people are buried there..." "Why...?" "Well...").

But the real kicker was the way Jody came to adopt his deer. Jody's father discovers their pigs have been stolen by their hillbilly neighbor, Clem. So he grabs his gun and Jody and they set off to get them hogs back. As they're walking, Jody unsheathes the 8-inch knife he's carrying. But as they're tracking through the woods, dad gets bit by a rattlesnake on his hand! So dad takes out his knife and starts hacking off the skin so he can suck the poison out. Jody's freaking out. ("Dad, don't die...!) They get up to run for help, when dad spots a momma deer. He whips out his shotgun and blasts the deer. Then he tells Jody to carve out the deer's heart and kidney.

Jody runs over to the deer, kneels down and digs right in with his big honkin' knife. Next thing, he's running back to his dad, with a heart in one hand and a kidney in the other, both hands dripping with blood. Dad puts the organs on the wound because they apparently suck out the poison. (Who knew? Holistic medicine frontier style.) Then he tells Jody to run for help. Jody runs screaming for the hillbilly neighbor. Except, just as he's about to run, he sees the baby deer, and immediately realizes they just whacked its mom. Later, when dad lives, Jody lays on the guilt trip and convinces his dad to let him raise the baby deer. Soft focus shot of happy boy. Cue the swelling music....And fade out...

I asked Liam if he understood what had just happened. And he said, "That baby dear is sad." And then he said, "Daddy, I want a pet." "What kind of pet?" "A baby giraffe." "Well, we'll have to see when we get back to Oakland..."

Fortunately, Liam didn't wig out. And that's a big shift because Liam went through an extended period of being terrified by just about any movie or DVD except Blue's Clues. ("Ya gotta find another paw print, that's the second clue...!") A couple years back, we tried to go to a movie theater to see "March of the Penguins" and he was so terrified, that it wasn't until recently that he was even open to the idea of viewing anything remotely resembling a movie or DVD.

But starting last fall, he became more open to the idea. We rented "Mary Poppins" and he loved it. And he loved "Willy Wonka." At the time anyway. Now he keeps asking me if I'm chewing gum and says that gum scares him. ("Daddy, I'll help you...I'll take you to the juicing room."). And along the way we've watched the standards: Toy Story, Nemo. We even went to the movie theater over the holidays and saw "Happy Feet." Stressful moments that used to send him scurrying out of the room now don't seem to faze him much. In fact, now he laughs hysterically through movies like "Madagascar." The current favorite, though, is "Curious George," which Liam quotes liberally throughout the day. ("You're going to want to put those cucumbers back..." "You lost me at lost...") Strangers, of course, just look at him like, "Huh?"

Diaper free

As I noted recently, the diaper free thing has been going great. Kalian often goes to the potty on her own. She insists on doing everything herself. Going in, pulling down her pants, wiping, and then dumping it all in the big potty. Not bad for 20 months old. But my favorite thing is what she now likes to do while she's going to the potty:

My daughter is now a 50-year-old man. Sitting on the potty. Reading the newspaper.

Back to School

The blog went on hiatus for a couple weeks because I did, too. Jen started her Spring semester yesterday. The two weeks before that, she was on extended break. I got some much needed rest and relaxation. And of course, I only got a fraction of what I wanted to accomplish done. But there you go. Isn't life always like that? I'm packing my schedule with other crap when I should be taking it easy.

The time off was good, overall. It included a trip to Western Mass. to Kripalu, a yoga and meditation retreat. Jen has a big entry on this over at her site, so I won't bore you with more details. But it was a fabulous time, other than it being sub-arctic temperatures. Organic food, some great yoga classes, a little meditation. And a pretty setting. We came back Friday and already, Jen was gearing up for the start of school over the weekend.

Our weekend included a trip to the art museum, this time with the whole family. We were invited by a new friend, Francesca, who we met at Kripalu who does some work there. The museum had a kids' event Saturday morning which included mimes. The event was great, but as our friend, Francesca, noted, it may have been planned for kids by people who don't have children. To wit, the breakfast included two roving mimes. The mimes mainly seemed to be scaring the crap out of the kids. Is there anything freakier to little kids than mimes and clowns?

Liam had a great time. Toward the end, a sketch class full of elementary school age kids came into the gallery where we were sitting. The museum had given us a goodie bag with a little sketch pad and crayons. Liam pulled them out, and then wandered over to sit with the group and try to draw the statue they were studying. And then he kept showing his sketch to the teacher, who welcomed this little interloper. Given all the challenges we've had with Liam's development, it was great to seem him just jump right into the group and try to follow along. Even better to see him take an interest in something arts and craft related, something he's doing more often at home, too.

And so, Jen started school yesterday, which went fine on the home front. Though Kalian has clearly gotten re-attached to momma. We went grocery shopping in the morning. And when we pulled into the drive way, Kalian just kept pointing to the house and saying, "Mommy?" "No mommy," I said. And then the wailing began. It went on most of the afternoon. Though she was more relaxed today.

Time, as they say, is flying by. We've been here seven months now. We go back to Oakland in a little more than four months. I'm spending a big chunk of my free time applying to preschools for Kalian. It's an odd feeling, having one foot back in the Bay Area, at least in a mental sense.

Kalian is starting to spit out all sorts of words. And she's become increasingly independent. Today, after lunch, I was washing the dishes. She walked into the bathroom on her own, pulled down her pants, and went poop. Not bad for only 20 months. I've groused about the diaper free thing, but it has definitely worked it's magic.

As for me, I've been trying to put some time into thinking about my own career. After a year at home with the kids, what do I want to do? Officially, I'm on leave from the Mercury News. But when I go back, what do I want to write about? I have an idea for a blog, but do I want to live the blogger lifestyle (posting like a madman at all hours)? And so many people have the Merc since last summer...Sigh.

Well, stay tuned...

Don't cry for me, Argentina

I feel I need to stop here, "for a second," as Liam likes to say, and note for the record, that I'm doing fine, and that the past few months of being a stay at home dad have been some of the best of my life.

Based on various reactions I get from people who read this blog, the sense I seem to be giving folks is one that is quite grim. And that's not the case. I'm very happy, and having a great time. However, I also want to be candid about my frustrations. So for those worried about my mental health: Don't.

One of the other spouses in Jen's program asked me a couple weeks ago if I was counting the days until the semester is over and we go home. She said that apparently, many of the other spouses she meets in the program are.

I had to think about that. Which tells me, of course, that I haven't been counting the days. As of now, we've been here six months, and we'll be back in Oakland in five months. But as part of my role out here, I've invested quite a bit of energy in meeting folks, building a community, getting the kids involved, and learning about this area.

So yes, I'll be excited to see folks back home. But at the same time, it's weird to think that in five months, I may never again see many of these folks who have suddenly become so vital to our daily lives. And that makes me a little sad.

The good, the bad, and the ugly...

The past two days have encapsulated the full range of my experience as a stay at home dad. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

Sunday morning started off rough. Liam, of late, has been opposed to leaving the apartment. Ever. Whether it's morning, or afternoon, he wants to just play here. No parks. No museum. No library. So getting him dressed and out the door has become an epic undertaking. And it's hard not to get frustrated.

With Jen back in school for a couple weeks and gone all day, I was determined to get the kids out and doing...something. The weather, improbably, was sunny and headed to the 60s. So there was no way I was going to sit in the apartment for 10 hours. Fortunately, Jen was still around to get the kids dressed. I threw them in the bike trailer and just took off. I figured I'd at least ride a bit and find a park.

Rather randomly, I decided to head over to the Museum of Fine Arts. I hadn't had a chance to visit yet, but I remember it being a great museum. This is one of those moves that was ripe for disaster. Two toddlers in a museum? But instead, it was great. One of those parenting moments that crystallizes why being a parent can be so great.

We had lunch when we first got there ($13 for a salad! Are you kidding?). And then headed upstairs to the galleries. Liam was incredibly interested in everything. He stood quietly and examined several paintings and statues. We started in a room full of late 19th century impressionists. He had fun trying to guess what those fuzzy pictures were supposed to be. And Kalian was gazing, pointing across the room to paintings she wanted to check out.

We wandered around for almost two hours. Liam was our tour guide, pulling out the museum map and telling us where to go next. When they were finally getting tired, I threw them back into the bike trailer and headed home. After getting back, Liam said he wanted to do some painting, which is rare for him. We painted for a about 30 minutes, made a huge mess, and had a great time.

That night, we had movie night after Kalian went to bed. On the DVD player: "The Muppet Movie." If you haven't seen this in awhile, check it out. It was even better than I remember. Very adult and childish. Liam was transfixed, though we had to explain certain things. Like when Mel Brooks, playing an evil German doctor, tries to hook Kermit up to a brainwashing machine. (Me: "Well...he's a bad man and he's trying to get Kermit to do something he doesn't want to do. And that's not nice." Liam: "I'll knock him down.")

The next morning was also great. Liam went to his occupational therapy session. And while he claims not to like them, was clearly having a lot of fun.

After that, I took him to preschool for the day. Then I took Kalian to coop. Today was the Coop's annual party to celebrate all the kids' birthdays. It's truly a great group of folks. One of the moms wore a bear suit and sang songs, which alternately amused and terrified the kids.

But later in the day, things went south. I picked up Liam, and rather than take them home, I took them to Target. Part of a mission to keep them occupied and out of the apartment at any cost. But both kids went bonkers, jumping in and out of the cart, running around the aisles. So I abandoned the cart and got back in the car.

When we got home, the kids were totally wound up and running around like crazy. I was praying that Jen would suddenly decide to come home early. As I was starting dinner, I heard the kids jumping on our bed. And then...a crash, and a scream.

I ran in and found Kalian face down on the table next to our bed. She had a one-inch gash just under her right eye, and her face was covered in blood. (The doctor said facial cuts tend to bleed a lot.) I rushed to dress both kids and get them in the car, freaking out, and rushed over to urgent care. Jen met us there.

Turns out that while the cut was deep, Kalian didn't need stitches. But she does look like she just got off the set of Rocky 6. Of course, by Tuesday morning, she was her old chipper self.

Liam turns 4...

Liam's official birthday was last Saturday. And as Jen noted, "Can you believe we've been parents for four years?" Uh, nope.

Because Liam's birthday falls on New Year's Eve Eve (dec. 30), we decided to have the actual party today, when more folks were likely to be around and back from the holidays. As I noted in a previous post, we've taken Liam Candlepin bowling a couple times in recent weeks. And so when asked what the wanted to do for his birthday, he said, "Bowling."

So we booked several lanes at Sacco's Bowl Haven in Somerville. We were delighted that so many folks were able to make it, and that they truly seemed to have a great time. Sacco's is a total throwback, an old family owned place where just about everything is made of wood, and you keep score on paper scratch sheets. The old timers hanging around looked like they've been sitting on the stools since 1950.

Liam immediately took charge, reminding his friends that they needed "special shoes" to bowl. He was bouncing from lane to lane explaining to the other kids how to push the reset button. It was great to see him truly having a great time.

My cousin Tom came down from New Hampshire, and besides being great to see him and his little boy, he was a huge help, as experienced bowler. Here are Liam and Kalian with Tommy, Jr.:

It had been a bit crazy for us putting it together at the last minute, as Jen is back in classes. I was up the night before making quesadilla's and putting together our "gift bag," which in this case was a narcissus bulb in a pot with planting rocks. But it was worth it, of course.

Given that Liam's pre-school room was set for kids who were older threes and young fours, the past four months have been a kind of birthday-palooza for us. I'd have a hard time even listing the number, location and details of all of them, just because there have been so many. While we strive not to get into a competitive mode over these things, it's tough not to want to impress. I think just about every party offered a gift bag, and so we did, too. And while none were overly ostentatious, or lavish, it's tough not to let yourself start comparing and mentally tallying what this or that must have cost.

One thing I'm glad we did: Ask folks not to bring presents. Of course, a couple folks did, and that's fine. But a little goes a long way with Liam. Which is great. My aunt got him an electric helicopter, which he won't let out of his site. And someone got him "The Little Engine That Could" which he refers to as "my present" and has insisted on bringing to bed with him.

Oh well. In any case, I think all but one birthday is behind us. And because it's been such a big part of my social scene on weekends -- one parent joked that he'd see me soon on the "birthday circuit" that means I'll have more open weekends this coming semester.

And for those who care, the full set of pics from the party are here at Snapfish.

Stay At Home Dad = MBA

Little did I know that my year as a Stay At Home Dad is quietly preparing me to run a Fortune 500 Company. Or so says the New York Times. And who am I to quibble? At this point, I need the money.

From the NY Times on New Year's Eve:

Under New Management
Among Your Qualifications, an M.B.A. at Household U.

By KELLEY HOLLAND
Published: December 31, 2006

AS many a Kodak commercial makes clear, child-rearing involves plenty of cuddles, angelic smiles and moments of treacly sweetness. But parents know that raising children also involves those other times — when the bowl of oatmeal overflows in the microwave while you resolve a sibling quarrel, when your knuckles whiten as you grip the dashboard for your teenager’s first highway drive, when you try yet again to encourage a child who is struggling with the intractable mazes of geometry.

It is all very different from business school, or even from an office. But many parents — including famous ones like Nancy Pelosi, the incoming House speaker, and Ann Crittenden, the author of “If You’ve Raised Kids, You Can Manage Anything” — know that the experience of raising children and managing a household is not just maddening and delicious: it can also serve to develop skills that are central to successful management.

Apparently Home Depot is looking for a new CEO. And the last one got fired AND got a $210 million severance package. That would be a slight increase from my previous job.

The story continues:

Parents need to master various skills, including quick decision- making in a changing environment (what to serve in two minutes once oatmeal is no longer an option), negotiating (coaxing a young child into snow boots in time for the school bus), and synthesizing information (if a daughter goes to gymnastics, her brother has to be dropped off early for soccer so the grocery shopping can be done).

They also learn to motivate teams (let’s have a playroom cleanup game!) and to multitask (doing laundry while the chicken roasts and soccer practices are coordinated). And they praise real effort at any level, whether it’s a toddler’s painstakingly balanced tower of blocks or a preteen’s carefully drawn poster for a school election. Communication, time management and analytical skills can also be honed at home.

Raising children is “a developmental experience and you gain workplace skills from it,” said Marian N. Ruderman of the Center for Creative Leadership, a research and training organization based in Greensboro, N.C. “If you can negotiate between two kids when you’re driving, you can negotiate at work,” she added. “There’s no question in my mind about that.”

So there you have it, I just need to figure out how to blend that into my resume or my next annual evaluation and demand a hefty raise. Wish me luck.

By the way, the full story is here.

My Life is Never Like This

I was reading the New York Times last week, and I stumbled across this ad from Canon:

And I just thought, Whoa! They've discovered my secret life. Really, I'm sitting at home everyday, while Liam quietly plays on the floor. Kalian bounces on my lap while I sip some coffee. And all the while I'm free to get some work done on the computer. The Secret is OUT! Isn't this what's it's like for all stay at home parents with two kids?

Thank you, Canon. Thank you.

It's beginning to look...nothing like Christmas!

One day after Xmas, all is merry, all is bright. This holiday was different for us, than in years past, for many reasons. The most obvious is that we find ourselves three time zones away from home. Oddly enough, we're getting just the kind of weather we'd expect if we were back in Oakland: moist, chilly, unpleasant. But no snow! I'm not sure weather to sing Hallelujah! for the mild winter, or ask for my money back. The area has experienced record temperatures all month, and now the debate has turned to weather there will be any significant snow this winter.

But back to Christmas, the truly big change was our financial picture. With zero income, and substantial debt piling up, we decided to forgo the usual orgy of present giving. We told family members a couple months ago not to send us anything, and that we would not be sending anything. What little money we had, we planned to save for travel.

I was a little bummed, at first, about the prospect. No matter what anyone says, Christmas memories have always centered around that mad tearing open of wrapping paper Christmas morn. But, as the month wore on, I began to feel, well, liberated. As I chatted and emailed with friends out here, they inevitably were talking about how stressed they were, dashing to the store every day, rushing to the post office, stressing about the money. And it occurred to me, "Oh yeah, I don't have to worry about that this year." What a relief it was.

By coincidence, the New York Times ran a column along the same lines on Dec. 16:

BASIC INSTINCTS; Skip the Stress And Donate To Charities
By M. P. DUNLEAVEY
EVERY year during the holidays, you hear the same old shop-worn advice for avoiding financial stress. Set a strict spending limit for each person and stick to it; plan ahead so you do not shop impulsively; coax your family into a modest exchange of gifts; hunt for bargains online, and so forth.

Here's a radical suggestion: how about a gift-free holiday season?

Some people will always revel in the spirit of receiving and spending that descends this time of year. But many others are fed up with dashing through the mall, spending more money than they have on loads of stuff other people may or may not need or want.

Sorry to put it so bluntly, but when I hear that shoppers spent over $18 billion the weekend after Thanksgiving alone -- a small slice of all holiday sales -- and that the average consumer takes three to six months to recover from her holiday spending hangover, I wonder if anyone is connecting the dots.

The article continues:

Patricia Danser, who runs a private animal sanctuary in Deming, N.M., says that she and her husband have done a number of things to ''avoid the massive materialistic frenzy of the holidays'' -- including delivering presents to children in a nearby Mexican town and donating money in honor of friends and family to an organization that protects manatees.

Ms. Danser does not see her efforts as a way to cut costs, but it does make her happier to know that the money she spends will do some good in the world.

GIFT giving has become such an entrenched part of the holidays that many people are reluctant to suggest alternative ways to celebrate, for fear of appearing Scrooge-like. Sheri Schmidt, a lecturer on racial studies at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, says ''it took a bit of bravery and persistence to break the cycle of obligatory gift giving'' in her family. But when she finally suggested a moratorium on holiday gifts to her three brothers, ''they were so relieved,'' she said.

For the last few years, Ms. Schmidt and her family have given presents to six needy children, in lieu of their six more affluent nieces and nephews. It is not that they spend any less money, she says, ''but we have so much fun picking out the toys for those kids, knowing what a difference it will make to their Christmas morning.''

Indeed, it will be hard to go back next year. Instead, it's easier to imagine going further away from it. Yes, the kids will make it tougher. But on the other hand, Liam was just as excited this year that we gave him a floor puzzle and spent three hours building a fire truck from an erector set as he was about anything else under the tree. So, maybe it won't be as hard as I think.

"Yeah, we shoot!"

I took Liam to preschool the other day as usual. We got there a bit late and many of his friends were already there. He saw a boy he has become particularly friendly with and ran up to him. This was when I first saw a new game they had invented:

"Yeah, we shoot!"

Liam and the other boy ran into the corner and each grabbed two, long cardboard cylinders that slid all the way over their arms. Then they started pointing their arms at each other and yelling, "Yeah, we shoot!" The scene filled me all sorts of feelings that all seemed to be in conflict.

Liam has had a challenging time connecting with the other kids in his class. In part, he's just the new guy. And then there's his speech challenges, which can make it tough at times. So on one level, it was great that he seemed to have this connection with this other boy, that they invented their own game, and they really seemed to have bonded over it.

But did it have to be guns? As I talk to other parents and teachers out here about it, they are probably right in pointing out that this sort of thing is just part of being a four year old boy. In the past few months, Liam has suddenly become interested in things like superheroes (Superman! Spiderman!) even though those things are never in our house. Okay, I watched Superman Returns one night after he went to bed, but still...

Earlier this week, Liam had a play date at this same boys house. Now don't get me wrong. This is a wonderful little boy. And Liam is clearly quite fond of him. The boy's nanny occasionally hosts this "boys play dates" at their house. The boys from Liam's preschool room go and play trucks, firefighters, and construction. Liam couldn't be happier. Still, I went to pick up Liam at the end, and he was standing on a mound of dirt with this other boy. The boy was digging away with a shovel. Liam had a shovel in one hand, and a toy sword in the other. I'm not sure he knew exactly what it was, because I think he thought it was some sort of construction tool. And yet, part of me couldn't help but be a pit, well depressed.

I had no illusion that I would shield him from guns and swords and all that stuff for his entire life. At the same time, it's made me appreciate our little Oakland-Berkeley hippie cocoon that we live in. Both Liam's former preschool, but also our general group of friends and community. I feel confident in saying that I can't picture the kids and families we knew letting their kids play with that stuff. Again, that's not a judgment against the folks here. It's just to say, I guess, that I realize more than ever how fortunate we were with our friends back home.

Candlestick bowling

We had our first sub-artic chill today. So what better to do than to take the kids bowling? Why, take them candlestick bowling. In a past life, I was an avid and above-average ten pin bowler. But I have fond memories of visiting Boston as a kids and being taken candlestick bowling.

For the unitiated, candlestick bowling uses a ball about the size of a shot put. You get three balls each frame. And the pins are straight, rather than the pear shape of ten pin bowling.

In any case, I found a small, 15-lane bowling alley in somerville and trucked the kids over. Liam loved it. Even Kalian rolled a couple balls (with dads help). Liam came home and wanted to play bowling the rest of the night.

 

Liam's therapy...

Today was a tough day. And long. We had two big meetings related to Liam's therapy.

Liam stayed home from preschool today because he had an appointment with a speech therapist who is a renowned expert in stuttering, of "dysfluency," as it's called clinically. His stuttering has been up and down of late. But he continues to be a trooper about all of it. Still, at times he grimaces, purses his lips, and really works to get a simple sound out. While many therapists say it's typical for kids to go through periods of developmental "dysfluency," the grimacing and such things are usually considered signs of a more serious problem.

We drove about 20 minutes out to Lexington. Liam was his usual, upbeat self, excited that someone wants to play with him. The therapist played with Liam for about 45 minutes while videotaping the session. She didn't offer any conclusions at the meeting, but instead will meet with Jen and I in a couple weeks to go over her evaluation and her therapy recommendations.

In the meantime, we had Liam's "IEP" meeting with the Cambridge schools officials. The Indvidualized Educational Program is a bureaucratic way of saying "therapy program." As many of you know, about two years ago, Liam was diagnosed with sensory integration disorder and oral apraxia. In a nutshell, while Liam is smart, he has trouble processing and regulating his sensory intake and output. The result is that he had a hard time learning to speak, he remains somewhat challenged when it comes to things like running and climbing, and finds it a struggle to fit in socially because it's hard to keep up with his peers.

We'd been pretty optimistic for the past year or so with his progress. But he seems to have regressed a bit since he's been out here. His preschool is a tough environment for him because his classroom is big and loud and most of the kids are a bit older than his previous preschool in Berkeley. He reacts by withdrawing. His teachers have been great, but still...

And so he's been getting speech and occupational therapy through the Cambridge public schools. Except about 6 weeks ago his speech therapist had to take a leave of absence and they've not found a replacement yet. But they proceeded with their annual evaluation, the IEP, anyway. And no matter how positive they try to be, or how optimistic, it's a difficult thing to sit through. In essence, they run through long lists of things that Liam has a hard time doing, in often great detail.

In many cases, parents go to these meetings and find themselves fighting to get services. In our case, they concluded that Liam's challenges were so great, they increased their recommendation for the amount of therapy he is eligible for. And along with speech and occupational therapists, they assigned a third person to work with him, essentially a socialization expert to help him learn how to interact with kids.

All these folks were very well meaning, and we think they will be a tremendous help to Liam over the next six months that we are here. Still, it's hard not be discouraged when confronted with such an extensive breakdown of his issues. And it's at times like this that I miss our community of friends in the Bay Area more than ever.

Oh Mickey, you're so fine...

We had a wonderful visitor from the West Coast this past weekend. And it gave me a glimpse of how life here could be so different.

Mickey Ellinger arrived on our doorstep last Friday, fresh from a red eye from Oakland. Among the many wonderful things that happened to us after Liam was born four years ago, Mickey became an important force in our lives. For those who don't know of this magical being, Mickey has held a Friday night sleep over for the kids of various friends for many years now. During the past couple years, Liam has spent the night at Mickey's for the majority of Friday nights, bonding tightly with the handful of other kids who stay over. There are many things we miss about the Bay Area, and this ranks right up there.

So Mickey tumbled in Friday morning and Liam was ecstatic and could barely contain himself. Here he is just a few minutes after Mickey arrived:

 

Jen took Mickey that afternoon to see Stephen Colbert speak at Harvard. The next day, I had to do some work at Kalian's Coop. Jen and Mickey took the kids for a hike and then we met at a playspace for a birthday for one of Liam's classmates. We came back that afternoon and were all playing and I literally started to fall asleep while playing with Liam. Mickey tapped me on the shoulder and said the words that I have fantasized about everyday for the past five months: "Why don't you go take a nap and I'll play with the kids?"

So I did. I woke up when Jen came home. Thanks to Mickey, once again, we were having a big date night. The Kennedy School had its formal and Mickey was watching the kids for us. We had a big tapas dinner and then dressed in our finest went and partied at the Harvard Faculty Club. It felt very elitist and patrician and high school prom-ish all that once.

The next day, Mickey and I took the kids on the T into Boston. And boy, what a difference an extra adult makes. As I wrote before, I'm proud that I've taken the kids on so many outings. But I've avoided things like the train because it becomes so stressful handling the two kids, a stroller, etc. But it was a breeze with Mickey. We went to Faneuil Hall and Quincy Marketplace, walked over to the docks, and then wandered back to Quincy Market for lunch. I had done a similar outing on my own over the summer and it left me so traumatized that I've avoided the trains with both kids ever since. But this time, we had a ball, it was quite enjoyable.

Mickey took off that night, and we missed her immediately.

Snow!

We had a little of the white stuff this morning, as predicted. For me, it was one of those wonderful parent moments. While we were all getting dressed, Liam looked out the window, got a big smile on his face, and said, "Hey, it's snowing."

Both he and Kalian couldn't wait to get outside. And in the car this morning, he couldn't stop talking about it and asking questions. It was one of those pure moments of wonder that makes you see the world through your child's eyes.

Let it snow...

The moment I told Bay Area folks back in May that we were headed to Cambridge, the first reaction I usually got was something snarky about how cold it would be. I'll admit to being a bit, well, concerned about how I'd hold up and whether I'd be wimpering like a little puppy at the first freeze.

Well, the first snow is reportedly about to commence over night. But I can't complain. The weather thus far has been glorious. How wonderful? Consider this story from Friday's Boston Globe:

"Not long before Boston officials lit the city's Christmas tree in an annual seasonal rite, the area broke a 125-year-old record for the high temperature for the date yesterday when the mercury hit 69 degrees at 1:43 p.m."

Yowza! I've been out riding the bike, carting the kids around in the bike trailer, and basking in some sublime, "crisp", New England days. All that ends tonight, I fear. But it's lasted far long than I would have expected. So I'll refrain from whining about the cold. For awhile.

Kids Coop Cambridge

A big part of my life in Cambridge since September has the Kids Cambridge Coop. We heard about it while we were still in Oakland, and got a spot off the waiting list in August. It's been an incredible experience that, of course, also has had its share of frustrating moments.

The Coop is a true coop. It is run by the 15 families who are members. There is no full time staff, or director. Everyone gets to send their kid three mornings each week, from 9 a.m. to noon. As a member, you work one of those mornings as a caregiver, taking turns either bringing a snack, planning a craft, or cleaning the space. Each day, there are 10 to 12 kids there, with ages ranging from 15 months to 3.5 years. It's given me immense respect and insight into the lives of people who do this kind of work for a living.

In addition to working once a week, every member has a job. My job is to be a member of the coop's board and its secretary, which means I take the minutes for each monthly meeting. Fitting, I guess, given my background, though the jobs are more or less randomly assigned. Since every decision either needs to be made by consensus, majority, or two-thirds vote, depending on the topic, the meetings can often be a tribute to the excesses of democracy. After three hours debating whether CPR training should be mandatory or voluntary, I was longing for a dictator to make swift decisions for me.

The coop is located in the basement of the St. James Church, a big sprawling space that dominates Porter Square, about 5 minutes drive from out apartment. Now at this point, I'm going to show you a little video I shot of the space, I'm still trying to learn how to do this, so bear with me if it doesn't work. Feel free to shout at me, or give me a feedback. I've tried YouTube, but the quality is crummy. So I'm trying it on my own.

In any case, here's a little tour of the space:

 

So there it is. We spend the first two hours in there, doing free play, then a snack, circle time, craft. And then march outside to a playground behind the church for the last hour. I'm usually totally exhausted by the end of the day. And on a purely economic basis, Coop probably doesn't make a lot of sense. If all goes according to plan, I get about 5.5 hours of free time each week. When I add up the time I spend attending meetings, writing up minutes, working at coop, well, I'm sure I could hire someone to watch Kalian a couple mornings each week.

On the other hand, at least this way, we're not spending any money on daycare. And on the plus side of the ledger, the Coop folks are a wonderful community. Without stereotyping, they are probably a lot closer in spirit and outlook (and economic status) to our friends back in the Bay Area. Not Berkeley crunchy, but certainly at a different spot along the spectrum from the folks who we've met through Liam's elite preschool. (Though those folks are wonderful, too.)

Beyond that, it's been a great thing for Kalian. She is at that age where she is just starting to play with other kids. Most of her life has been being dragged around to hang with kids that her brother plays with. But Coop is her thing, and her friends. And it's unbelievably cute to see some of the younger kids, who are just learning to talk, shouting her name across the room or playground: Kay-nan! Kay-nan!

Here's a clip (probably too long) of Kalian playing with her friend, Freya:

 

As for me, I've learned quite a bit about the kids, and myself. Getting 12 kids to sit still for 10 minutes of circle time ("Heads, shoulders, knees and toes...knees and toes, etc.") can be a Herculean task. And when you succeed, it feels like an epic achievement, even if it is just a small triumph in the scheme of life.

This may be the only time in my life when I have opportunity to do something like this with the kids (unless that Lotto ticket pays off). So for now, I'm going to cherish it.

Overload

I'm worried that I may be falling into the trap that I had hoped to avoid when we came out here this summer. Namely, letting myself be seduced into non-kid work projects. When I would tell folks that I was taking a year off from being a reporter, their immediate reaction would be, "Oh, are going to do some freelancing?" This made me bristle, because the implication seemed to be that staying at home with two kids wouldn't be enough to occupy me, or be a worthy enough endeavor.

Given the way things went this summer, I'm glad that I avoided career-related work. As some of you know, I was a finalist for a journalism fellowship. And while I was disappointed not to get it, I can't imagine life out here if Jen and I had both been in school full-time together. The transition was tough enough the kids, especially with Liam missing his friends, and us missing out community. But if the kids had been stuck in a new place AND been in full-time school/daycare this fall, I think it would have been a truly miserable experience for them, and for us.

In general, I've been trying to focus my energy on being present, and calm with the kiddies. And really trying to celebrate this incredible time I've been given with them. It is a time and opportunity I may never have again, as frustrating as it can be sometimes. And it's made me realize that as involved as I tried to be back in Oakland, working outside the house full-time meant that I missed so many great moments in their lives. This is my chance to do things like working in day care coop with Kalian, learning how to keep the house running, getting dinner on the table, keeping the floors picked up.

But the mind is never still. In my quiet moments, I've found myself contemplating the various directions my career could take when I resume it, whenever I resume it. For now, I've been writing a column once a week for the San Jose Mercury News about Silicon Valley insiders selling stock. I've started keeping track of the columns here.

Beyond that, there's an idea for a business-related blog that I've been mulling over. And the Nieman conference inspired me to focus on writing. There are the ever-present book idea floating around. And now, I've improbably volunteered to write a grant for The Chronicle, the college newspaper where I had worked at Duke University. The latter is manageable, I hope, and something that has been stuck in my mind ever since I attended a Chronicle alumni event in Durham, N.C. in mid-October. An idea struck me, that I haven't been able to shake, and so I've jumped right in. With the Chronicle possibly building a new home, the question is: What should a newsroom built for the next 50 years of journalism look like? It's a great opportunity for Duke and The Chronicle, and hopefully the funding will work out.

The problem is that these become the things that are foremost in my mind, rather than the kids. That if I'm obsessed about writing a blog posting, or grant, or book proposal, and I become attached to things like needing Kalian to nap at a certain time, or Liam to do something in a particular way so I can get "work" done, then I'm just creating more tension and stress for them.

And I don't really need to be reminded how much they need my attention right now. I spent an hour today answering questions from yet another caseworker who wanted to take a history of Liam's developmental issues. All stuff we've answered a hundred times, but everyone insists on doing their own history. She was part of the new team at Cambridge schools who are reassessing Liam's therapy needs. We have a formal meeting with that group next week, on the same day Liam is seeing a stuttering expert for an evaluation. He's also got a vision screening, hearing check, and a neurology exam all coming up in December. With all that coming down the pike at him, he certainly doesn't need me adding my stress over "work" stuff to his life.