Adjusting the Dream

To be honest, I came into this expecting a simple conflict of time: How do I balance demands at work with responsibilities at home? But it took me under 4 days at a law firm to realize it's more complicated than that. During orientation my head was spinning. Not only was there a ton of paperwork to fill out for taxes, parking, insurance, retirement, etc., but there was a parade of pro-work presentations. The message was simple: life at the firm is challenging, fulfilling, and fun, if you put in the time and effort. This included not only billable hours, but firm involvement, business development, community involvement, and pro bono work. Not only that, being new, we know nothing. If I don't spend much of my own time getting myself up to speed on the law I'm practicing, I'm no good. Ultimately, we rely on other attorneys to give us work, and they stop giving work to those who say "no." So, though I met get over subscribed, I need to get over it. I need to be willing to put in the time. During one of the final presentations, my head was spinning, so I finally asked, "How do we do all this and still have time for our families?" The partner, a member of the executive committee and someone for whom I have great respect, responded, "Your family always comes first. Work comes second. But make it a close second. I have two daughters. I never missed an important event in their lives. I wouldn't." I still didn't quite see how it was possible, but I knew he'd been through it too. So, dreams of family dinner every night, time to play every night, Saturdays and Sundays off, buying a home, etc., well, they need to be adjusted. What's really driven the point home was the fact that if I don't grow in this business, my student loan payments, 401(k), preschool tuition (which is ridiculous), etc., will eat away my discretionary income. I need to move up. I need to do what the partners want. But I'm finding there is a way. I won't make it to all family dinners, but I can make it to some or most. I can go in early, a great time to focus and buckle down, and leave around dinner time, then go back if necessary. My wife and I discussed my designating two late nights a week, to be used when the partners needed. We realize Saturdays may get used up. But these sacrifices will preserve our Sundays. We can move the dinner time, playtime, and bedtime schedules back slightly to give me a longer day. We can rent an apartment that is closer to work. It may be smaller, but it has a pool, which the kids love, and the commute is great. Throughout this orientation week, I actually do feel better oriented. Though some dreams may be adjusted, there is one that remains constant and fulfilled daily. We are becoming closer as we make sacrifices for each other. I wake up much earlier in order to work longer without missing the evenings with my family. My family waits a little longer for me to get home. We live closer to work, but in a smaller home. We find a cheaper preschool. Somehow, we love each other more, our commitment to each other grows, our kids learn valuable lessons. Who would have thought that those who have to sacrifice for each other are closer and happier?

Creative Punishment

My two-year old daughter is one of the most stubborn children I have ever met, ever. I tried to put her down for a nap on our bed this afternoon (we do that so she and her sister nap in separate rooms), but she wouldn't have it. So I put her in the room with her sleeping sister because it is darker and the door is harder to open. Then I heard her trying to wake her sister up. I told her not to wake her sister up and she replied, "But I want to wake her up." No matter what I said, she kept repeating her reply. I just gave up and put her back on our bed. Miraculously she fell asleep. On top of all this, there is a baby jumping thing that she keeps getting in. We keep telling her to stay out of it because she is too big and could break it. Oh, and one more thing. She refuses to sit and eat dinner, so we have to excuse her and make her go hungry to bed. But it's no use. She does what she wants, when she wants, especially if it gets us worked up. She takes delight in that. So, I told my wife that I had an idea. What if we put her in a corner if she disobeys and threatened her that she would get a marshmallow each time she got up from her punishment. My wife looked puzzled. My theory was simple. She would likely get up so many times that the marshmallows would make her sick. Then the punishment would serve the dual purpose of getting her to obey and to dislike sugary treats. Or, disobedience might merit sitting the kids on the couch all day with unhealthy snacks and television. If they get up they have to eat more snacks and watch more television. The problem with this second idea is that you'd have to punish them for three or four hours at a minimum, depending on how much television and snacks they normally consume each day (I've heard the total average in American homes for television viewing by children is 6 hours per day! These people will obviously have to make this punishment a weekend event). Luckily (from my wife's perspective) we did not have to put any of these brilliantly visionary punishments into effect. As I said, our daughter fell asleep for nap. Then after dinner, we heard her voice in the other room yelling, "Help! I'm stuck! Please get me out!" She was stuck in the baby bouncing contraption. With the same sick delight with which she punishes us, we smiled and replied, "Not right now, we're eating dinner!" I'm not sure it taught her anything, but it felt so good to say.

The Domestic Dad

My last day of the clerkship in DC was August 11. My first day of work at the law firm is September 12. After two weeks on the road and another living with relatives and looking for an apartment, I can safely say that I am going stir crazy. I have never had such a long vacation and I don't think I like it. Don't get me wrong. I love the time with kids. I love seeing everything that I would otherwise miss at work, especially our girls greeting my son with hugs when he gets home from school. I get a little jealous of him actually. The kids used to do that for me when I came home from work. But I can't complain. They still give me lots of hugs. I've already written of my judge's theory that you need to build a fire to keep you warm when you can. I think that is what I am doing. I take advantage of every opportunity I can to be with and play with the kids. I am fortunate though. Many fathers are out of work right now, even in the law profession. But I am a little jealous of them too. I read that many of them are working hard at home landscaping, making repairs, upgrading, and performing the work that they might otherwise pay someone else to do while they were at work. But there are three big differences between me and them. First, this is not my house. Second, it is over 100 degrees outside and a record-breaking hot summer. Third, I have zero handyman skills. I have helped my father-in-law build a fence--one of my proudest moments was redesigning the gate with the pieces he'd mistakenly cut the wrong size. One the other hand, when my parents built an apartment in the basement for me and my wife when we were newly weds, he and my brother did all the work. Anyhow, I have attempted to keep myself feeling accomplished by honing my skills as a dishwasher, toy picker upper, and a child bather. I still stink at shopping and hold not even an ounce of confidence with my wife in that regard--I don't necessarily see this as a bad thing since she never asks me to go shopping. Instead of the corporate dad, I have been strictly a domestic dad. But, there are many lessons to be learned there as well, such as never discount the work and feelings of the stay-at-home parent. Not only do I understand my wife better, but I am a stay-at-home parent right now.

The Price of Cool

My kids are cool. My two-year old daughter is a fashion designer. Who would have thought to use band-aids to turn a plain shirt into a striped shirt and use head bands to make a colorful neck-warmer? My four-year old son used his preschool hard-work bucks to get a pirate eye patch from the prize box, which he then wore to all of the apartment complexes we visited in the afternoon. He also rolled on the carpet of each apartment we viewed to test out its wrestle-ability. And of course, our baby girl is cool too. Whenever I lay on the floor she's sure to body slam me within minutes of doing so. They also wrestle with each other, and the girls run to hug their older brother when he gets home from school. That is cool. I'd like to take some credit for how cool they are. But being cool has its price. Being cool to little kids means fatigue. If I lift them or swing them in some fun way, it means I must do it over and over and over again in an attempt to quell the continuous, "Do it again Daddy! Again! Again!" For me, the quell is multiplied by three kids and includes a great deal of cutting in line and arguing over who's next. Unfortunately, I cannot quell the demand. It becomes infinitely more exciting each time it is repeated and trying to stop for dinner or bed results in the same kind of screaming you might hear during a medieval amputation procedure. I am hot and sweaty. If being cool doesn't result in fatigue, it results in a mess. We are staying with family while searching for an apartment, and in an attempt to encourage the kids from both families to eat their dinner, I told them that their brains grow bigger with each bite. So they began with little bites, asking me after each bite to look into their ears and see if their brains got bigger. It was fun at first, so I attempted to get them to take bigger bites by telling them that the brain grows only a little bit with little bites but a lot with big bites. Soon, spoonfuls of spaghetti were plopping onto the ground as little hands held their spoons high in the air in failed attempts to show me the big bites of dinner they were about to eat. I promptly apologized to my cousin for the mess and explained my good intentions. Alas, hot on the heels of the mess were little voices chanting, "Again! Again! Again!"

The Big Not So Big Event

I remember when my three-year old son ran triumphantly off the soccer pitch after blocking his first goal. What made it even cooler was that there are no goalies in three-year old soccer, but he insisted on playing the position after watching the World Cup with me. It was hot outside, but he also insisted on wearing a long-sleeve shirt. I have been fortunate to be present for almost every big even in my children's lives, from the first word spoken to the first word read. Now that we are getting settled into a permanent job and a permanent location, and now that our kids are getting bigger, we look forward to many more big events. More soccer. More karate. More ballet or gymnastics. When I was interviewing two years ago with my law firm I was impressed that the partners never missed their children's games, recitals, performances, etc. (Sometimes it gets competitive, like when my son comes home from school with a reading book based on his reading evaluation and I immediately ask how the other kids did. But that's another post.) But today I was reminded of another big event that we often miss simply because we might forget it is a big event. My son arrived home from preschool excited as ever to show me a pirate eye patch he'd earned from the prize box for good work, but I was on the phone. My wife tipped me off to how excited he was to show me with a disappointed scowl and silent head nod in his direction. Taking the queue, I ended the phone conversation and asked my son about his day. Later, he sat silently drawing a pirate treasure map and looking a bit frustrated. I asked what was wrong and he let me know that he wanted to show someone how to draw a pirate treasure map. I volunteered. He took great care teaching me exactly how I could draw the lines wherever I wanted and that the "X" goes where the treasure is buried, so that I know where it is and can dig it back up. I was impressed by how well he explained it to me and how well he communicates with others in general. I am not alone in my willingness to be present at the big events described above. They are clear representations of progress and accomplishment, often marked by honors or trophies or entries in a baby book. I don't know that I am always as willing to sit down for other less tangible big events like a simple conversation, where my son accomplished something extremely important for an adult, let alone a four-year old: he taught me something.

What Are They Putting in Soap These Days?

Everybody knows that when a child says an inappropriate word that means his or her tongue is dirty and needs to be washed with soap. But, since the words have never been very serious or frequent we decided to wait to do that until our son reached the age of four. Surely, having soap rubbed on his tongue would be a strong enough reminder that he should never use those words. So these past few days I've dealt with my son's use of inappropriate words (very infrequent use, I might add) by rubbing bar soap on his tongue. He willingly submitted to the punishment--I mean "solution" to the problem of a dirty tongue--probably thinking that anything was preferable to a boring, long, and repetitive daddy lecture. I rubbed the soap on his tongue. He tasted it. He looked up at me again, un-phased, and said, "It doesn't taste like anything." Then he tasted it again. Wait a minute! When my parents tried it on me the soap was disgusting. That was only a few years ago, or maybe 20. I wouldn't be surprised if soap companies were trying to make their soaps even more attractive by making them tasteless. Thinking that maybe I didn't rub enough soap on his tongue, I did it again until the soap bubbled up and coated his tongue. He tasted it again. Nothing. I was stumped. Was he serious or just beating me at my own game? Maybe both. Now I'm half tempted to taste soap before I use it on him. Maybe that was his plan all along.

Don't Be So Hard

Watching my son run around with his cousins and fighting the natural temptation of a 4-year old to ignore his parents in order to keep doing what the other kids were doing was a learning experience for me. He did ignore us a little, but was mostly well-behaved and obedient. I was a little disappointed in him at first for having such a hard time obeying us, but ended up being more disappointed in myself for not appreciating how obedient he really was in the face of so many fun distractions. In fact, I was pretty hard on him when he disobeyed. I wanted to instill the lesson that you need to listen to your parents no matter what everyone else is doing. But my wonderful wife reminded me that I need to be careful not to teach him that I don't trust him. In certain situations I need to back-off a little more and understand that I should be very careful about when to put my son in the difficult position of choosing between every 4-year old's dream and his parents when it really isn't that important. On the bright side, I have been more sensitive to my son's feelings about getting in trouble in front of other people. He has been incredibly responsive when we quietly go into another room to talk over anything he may have done wrong. I'm learning that a lot of parenting, even with little kids, is respecting their feelings.

She Can't Be Two/Feeling Better

This first experience was too cute to pass up. A cousin hit my son pretty hard. As I was consoling him, our two-year old knelt down beside us, put her arm on my shoulder, and with a concerned look asked, "What happened to him?" Then she listened intently while I explained the situation. Though our daughter definitely exhibits two-year old moments, there are moments like these when I am reminded that she has gifts and traits that are much older than she is and must have developed in her before she came to us.

The second experience is something I noticed throughout our road trip visiting friends and family. No matter how good the parents are, they experience the same parental challenges and react the same way. This may not be a very deep thought, but it reassured me that I am normal. If you want to feel like you're a good father, go stay with friends and family who have children too.

The Move: Days 11 & 12

We're finally here, after two weeks of homelessness. We are happy to be here, even if it is a temporary space in my cousin's house until we find one of our own. This move has taught me a lot. One is that anyone with little sleep, long hours driving cross country, and more whining from my kids than I care to mention is prone to get a little frustrated with his kids. At least saying so makes me feel a little better. So does watching every move my friends and family make as they care for their kids in the hopes that they will lose their tempers with their kids too. Short-tempered fathers like to feel normal. Anyway, I was pretty pushy with my son, the king of delay, at bath time. So pushy that he said, "I want Mommy to bath me tomorrow." I tried to be more kind and patient today, however, and he had no problems with my bathing him. I also slapped my daughter's hand just after she'd hit my son for the hundreth time in a fit of rage then hit me as the rage went on. I couldn't tell her not to hit--I'd be a hypocrite. So, I told her that that is how we feel when she hits. At bedtime, however, all of that seems to disappear. I love putting them to bed. The two oldest were squeezed together again on a queen mattress, the youngest in a pack-n-play. I told them a story that included some daddy humor, which they love now, though I am reminded they will not find funny when they're older. The story also included a grumpy father as my effort to say that I was wrong. I also apologized for being so grumpy and kissed them good night. Alas, their happiness was again shattered when they again had to say good-bye to friends with whom they'd only been able to play for one day. This morning's good-bye was one of the hardest yet, and seemed to be a culmination of the many irregularities, activities, hours of driving, and good-byes our little kids have had to experience over the past twelve days. Our daughter longingly said, "I miss them." And our son and daughter both cried quite a bit. It is true. We will miss everyone we visited. You have helped us so much on our way. We are grateful we could have even one day to visit and introduce our kids to your kids or have them play together. This includes former college roommates, neighbors, family, and other dear friends. As we drove over the Rockies and into the valley, we felt a sense of relief. We could tell our kids did too. They of course bounced off the walls when we got here--this time we cut them some extra slack, especially after how tough I was on them yesterday, but they were also so excited that there is no more driving, nor more changing homes, and especially no more good-byes.

The Move: Days 8, 9, and 10

We're getting our kicks on Route 66 . . . really. On Saturday we connected to the de-comissioned federal highway in our travels to the West. It is interesting to think that the days of old Route 66 were the days of the convertible, of slow-moving cross-country travel, of a very personal discovery of various demographics of people and cultures within the United States. The highways have progressed now-a-days the way the food service industry did . . . to be fast and impersonal. In many ways, my time with my wife and kids along old Route 66 has taken me away from the fast and busy pace of our last residence and my future job and given me the opportunity to have a very personal and meaningful vacation with my wife and kids. We have loved visiting family and friends, but, to be perfectly honest, I have also loved watching our family become better friends by trying to take care of each other during this trip. Long days in the car are not very exciting, but we laugh together, take breaks to visit friends and family, to swim at the hotel (tonight's activity), and to just be there for tender or funny moments I would otherwise miss while at work. I am grateful that we could swim together at the hotel pool tonight, just us. My son almost swam across the pool. Our daughters clung to us for dear life, but they also enjoyed splashing and laughing with us. My wife and I also got to work off some of our dinner. I am amazed that although we have been homeless for almost two weeks, our children have risen to the occasion. I feel happy that they seem to feel that home is wherever your family is, even when it is in a minivan crossing the U.S. I admire them for demonstrating such patience and maturity at such a young age (warning--this is not always the case). I love that we sometimes sleep together in the same room. I love that the two oldest have been sleeping together and becoming better friends. I love that they have me tell them stories at night. Tonight's story was about three fish, following our swim. Last nights was about three little doggies, following our visit with my brother, his wife, and their dogs. The night before, I might have told a superhero story, or something similar. Some other examples of little moments I will always treasure are when my oldest daughter got a treat (a bag of popcorn) and shared it with me while I was driving, and watching my youngest daughter discover herself in the hotel mirror then try to get her reflection to follow her by pointing and grunting at it when it didn't follow. There have also been many moments where the kids hold hands, or sleep peacefully in the car, or make each other laugh. There are many moments where my wife or I sit in the back on the floor of the car to play with them, feed them, or talk to them. Don't worry, there have also been rough moments. Other highlights, especially of today, were that my kids learned some of the lessons from my son's preschool that his teacher is sending us by email. Another is watching how restless they were after we finally arrived at the hotel after our longest day in the car-ten hours. It was as if we had opened the cages of little monkeys that had been penned up all day. They were literally bouncing off the walls at the hotel, the restaurant, and the pool. We had to remind ourselves why they were having such a hard time listening to stay sane ourselves. I think they got all their energy out at the pool. I am grateful for our friends and family who took us to a farmstead, let us play with their dogs, or just let us stay and chat with them for a while on days 8 and 9. But I am surprised at how much I have enjoyed our day alone together on Day 10. I expected it to be our worst, but our children were wonderful in the car and tons of fun at the pool and in the hotel room. I think of that movie, "RV," where there were parents who raised their kids on the road in an RV along Route 66. Sometimes I think that wouldn't be a bad life, once the kids are a little more independent that is.

The Move: Day 7

I find myself taking on more administrative tasks in order to feel like I'm working. Today, I drove around Iowa City to find a snack cup we lost. Then, I picked up some ice for the next stage of our trip tomorrow. I also feel a little out of place during the day when I am basically one of the moms. But I did enjoy making everyone lunch. I felt like a restaurant chef, though the menu consisted of grilled cheese sandwiches and hot dogs. Today was also like a reunion. It was wonderful--friends, family, former professors, etc. The kids' fatigue level is going up, so is the drama level. I'm realizing that my lecturing level should probably go down.

The Move: Day 6

One thing we didn't account for during this move is that while visiting friends, the husbands are usually working. So, for much of the day today, it was me and the moms hanging out. Of course, they were all talking with my wife, so I talked more with the kids. That's okay. That's more my level anyway. In addition, as we are starting to get more tired and unregulated in our sleeping, I am sometimes more impatient with the kids, even when I don't need to be. For example, my daughter keeps scratching her ouchies and making herself bleed. I've been getting very frustrated with that until tonight when I did the same thing.

I think after six days, I can safely recount some of the duties of a corporate dad during a cross-country move by car. Although, as I've said in previous posts, I attempt to enforce the same sense of order I have at the office in my home, I've assumed a much less corporate and much more domestic role. I am gradually relinquishing my demand for order and learning to deal with chaos. However, because I have to attempt to manage the chaos as much as possible, the following responsibilities have been relegated to me on this trip:

-kitchen cleaner at friends'/family's homes
-lunch-maker in the car
-child-entertainer in the car
-bed preparer at others' homes
-car loader/unloader
-babysitter when my wife is with her friends
-story teller when tucking the kids into bed
-ice/gas purchaser, errand runner

Basically, I am the good little soldier in charge of setting up/taking down camp and KP duty. This arrangement has resulted in a variety of benefits. My wife sees that I'm working hard, so she doesn't make me change the diapers. She does not get frustrated with my ineptitude at grocery shopping because she can do it herself without kids in tow. There are no last-minute arrangements delaying arrival/departure/bed times. Most importantly, my wife's administrative load is lightened so that our time with each other, the kids, and family and friends is of much higher quality than it might otherwise be.

The Move: Day 5

We've all felt it, that little pang that you feel during those busy days when you can't do as much as you would like to do or feel that you should do for the kids. For example, the kids were very tired today (the baby cried all day, while the other two whined and pouted for much of the day), and so were we, so although it would have been nice to hop in the back of the car to provide them with more snacks during our drive today, play with them a little more when we arrived at our destination, or read to them before bed, I didn't. Each omission is now a small regret. There is some consolation in the fact that they did get to play with friends we're visiting at this stop, that it was a short drive that didn't necessitate many snacks, that I was in the back feeding them lunch when we started this leg of the trip, and that I sang to them and made up a story when they went to bed. This time they were knights in the story with added titles like, "the great," "the brave," and "the strong." They seemed to like it. Now many who read this post may think, "You're over-reacting. Some days are just like that. It's no big deal." I'm sure those comments are correct, but what makes it tough was that although we had a good day, the traveling and excitement of seeing so many friends and family has begun to take a toll on them from which they need to recover. We have a lot of activities planned, however, and it is unlikely they will get time to do that. Instead of showing much compassion, I was a little impatient with them during the bath/bedtime routine. So, we ended the day on a bad note, and that is the thing about which I feel the most guilt. On the bright side, we are staying here for a few more days before moving on to the next stop, so we should all be able to recover a little.

The Move: Day 4

There are burdens of fatherhood that are light and there are burdens that are heavy. Oddly, it seems that the lighter burdens originate from the children. Today I bathed my son and told him he could go into the living room to get dressed. We are at my parents' house, and he decided to go into the living room in style--dancing in the buff for everyone to see. Then he told everyone that I said he could. So he took liberties with my instructions. It gets a little tougher when they don't listen altogether. However, there is usually a reason for it. My oldest daughter, for example, has gone two days without naps--two activity-packed days with family. She just could not function and fell asleep as I was reading to her. But, as that story illustrates, the fact that they sometimes ignore me is never a personal affront and is often accompanied by tender moments. It gets even tougher when my children reach the age of sophisticated parental manipulation. For example, I attempted to be understanding to my son, who really was having a hard time focusing enough to eat when we first arrived at my parents. When he gets over-excited or distracted or bored he asks us to give him bites of his food. I've recently refused to do so, telling him that he is old enough to feed himself. However, I told him yesterday that I understood that he was too excited to eat and that I would help him. Since then, he keeps saying, "Can you feed me some bites? I'm just too excited to feed myself." But none of these things are very heavy compared to the burdens of fatherhood that come from sources other than my children. One is the constant concern with the world in which my children will grow up. We have to let them gain their own experience, knowing that they will be exposed to influences that are extremely subtle and dangerous. We can teach them and prepare them, but the thought of sending them out into the world even for school scares me. Another is that "hand-off" that takes place between generations of fathers. By that I mean coming to the realization that your own father does not have all the answers, and that I have to shoulder the burden of thrusting my family into new environments and situations while providing for them and protecting them at the same time. It requires being the first to express faith and hope and the last to express criticism and fear. It means stepping into the darkness so many times hoping for sure footing. As I close the first year of this blog and embark on our cross-country move to begin my legal career, the burdens originating from my children seem lighter, and the burdens originating from other sources seem heavier. We rely on each other so much, and this trip is more or less a vacation. I love every second with the kids. I'm learning so much more about them. We're becoming better friends. We know that there are challenges ahead that are so much bigger, so we try to laugh off the little challenges of mood swings and messes. We are excited for the adventures that lay ahead, but none of us really knows what those will be--billable-hour requirements, financial responsibilities such as student loans and a mortgage, schools for our kids, trying to set an example of what it right, etc. Though this post marks the end of my first year as a legal professional, it also marks the beginning of the battle between the corporate and the dad. I hope that as a transactional attorney, I can help the two parties reach a mutually beneficial deal.

*Just for the purposes of personal record keeping, I want to mention that our family went to the splash pad. My son started a water fight with me. I think he finds joy in making me wet and cold when I'm not quite ready to be. Later, the older siblings--all of us older than 20--were crazier than the kids. In fact, we got into a water fight. One of my proudest moments as a father was watching my four-year old son join up with me against my brothers and sisters. He fearlessly drenched them all and got drenched in return. But when everyone else was tired out, we were the last men standing. With a high five and a hug, the two of us rejoined the family.