We hired a nanny a little over a month ago, both because we wanted our daughter to have some one-on-one care before she becomes a middle child and because we don’t see a lot of benefit in putting an infant in full-time daycare.
The whole thing is working out really, really well. The woman we hired is fantastic; she takes our daughter to the park or to the library and, when she’s taking care of both kids (our son goes to daycare three mornings a week to hang out with his friends), she takes them to a museum or to the zoo. The kids took to her immediately and all the behavior issues that crop up whenever there’s a big change were quick to dissipate. They’re napping much better at home than they ever did at daycare and, as a result, we get to spend more time (and more quality time) with them after work.
Interestingly, the biggest challenge to having an entirely new person spending a great many hours in our house is trying to explain the notion of keeping kosher. The simplest part is showing her the different sets of dishes and silverware, and explaining which is used for which type of food. Then there’s a basic list of commonly-eaten kosher and non-kosher animals. From there, it gets trickier: “Also, don’t mix milk and meat. And, for some reason, chicken counts as meat but fish does not.” And then, “We have to read all the packaging of everything before we buy it because, for example, a lot of the cheese you might find in a grocery store is made with animal products and is, thus, not kosher.”
But all of that is ultimately just a memorization game. The hard part, as expected, is explaining why. Keeping kosher is something we do; it’s part of our tradition and part of who we are. But it’s not the easiest thing to explain. I mean, it’s easy enough to say, “There are a bunch of passages in the Torah that are all about dietary restrictions and Jews have stuck with those for an awfully long time.” But it takes a good deal more than that to explain why those dietary restrictions are ones that we — in this house in this time and place — still find meaningful and worth following, especially since we don’t read the Torah literally and we don’t take to heart all of the rules-and-regulations passages from right alongside the passages about keeping kosher. But it’s a worthwhile endeavor to try to explain oneself to others … despite, or perhaps because of, the difficulty that often attends making sense of one’s beliefs and actions.
Took my son to the gym this morning to
play a little basketball run around for an hour and — let me tell you — my ½ inch vertical has not exactly improved with age.
I don’t know how this could have happened.
But, on the plus side, here are two pictures of my progeny during and after his workout. His assessment of our morning: “My hair got really sweaty.”
We’re taking the kids to Sesame Street Live this weekend and this is the description of the show:
No matter where you’re from or where you’ve been, everyone is special – so join in! Elmo, Grover, Abby Cadabby, and their Sesame Street friends welcome Chamki, Grover’s friend from India, to Sesame Street. Together, they explore the universal fun of friendship and celebrate cultural similarities, from singing and dancing, to sharing cookies!
Given that it reads like something out of Rush Limbaugh’s nightmares, I’m pretty seriously considering live-tweeting the show using the hashtag #rightwingsesamenightmare
The only way it would be better liberal propaganda is if everything was exactly the same except Chamki was secretly from Pakistan or turned out to be in the country illegally in order to gobble up some of those sweet, sweet American entitlements (and cookies).
A question for scientists who study the erratic behavior of children:
How is it that my kids manage to sleep until 6am on the days when my wife has to wake up at 5am to get ready for work, but then wake up before 5:30am on the days when we don’t have to wake up early?
Today is my birthday and it’s been a good, low-key one.
I took my son to Omaha’s Durham Museum, which is a beautiful old train station now filled with trains (as well as other exhibits about Omaha’s (and Nebraska’s and the American West’s) relatively recent past). He watched the model trains on their tracks, walked through a bunch of retired train cars, ate a snack at the fully operational soda fountain, and played with a hands-on exhibit about how steam engines work.
After, we stopped for lunch at our local bagel place and he chatted with a girl from day care (out with her grandparents), the father of another of his friends, and a group of six grandmotherly women who sat at the table next to ours. Halfway through his lunch, he said (without any fanfare or even looking up from his plate), “This is yummy. I love you, Daddy.”
Hard to beat that.
How do you set boundaries between your academic and family life?Anonymous
On the one hand, I go to work like anyone else and, like a great many people, my kids go to day care. That said, my schedule tends to be a whole lot more flexible than that of a lot of people.
I’m only teaching classes two or three days a week, depending on the semester, and even on my teaching days it’s not like I’m in a classroom all day long. The temptation to pick up my kids at 2pm rather than 5pm can be pretty intense, especially on those days when I’m working from my home office rather than my office on campus.
But I don’t. When I’m on campus, I’m on campus all day. I teach, I hold office, and I attend various meetings. And when I’m working from home, I’m reading and/or writing all day; unsurprisingly, I get a lot more of my own work done on the days I’m at home.
I like spending time with my kids and I like my work … so, basically, I keep family life from bleeding into my work by keeping my kids in day care during the week.
It’s actually much more difficult to keep my work from bleeding into my family life. Because so much of my work involves thinking about stuff, I’m pretty much always doing it. It can be pretty difficult to put down a book I’m reading or step away from my computer when I’ve got an idea I want to get onto the page.
When I was younger and didn’t have a family, I’d stay up until 3am if I had an idea and wanted to write it up. Now, I’m in bed by 10pm … because I know I have to get up at 5am and also that I’m likely to be quieting a screaming child at least once during the night. In the past, students would turn in an essay and I’d spend the weekend grading. Now I work during traditional business hours and I try to limit the work I do when my family is home (though I usually work while my kids are napping on the weekend).
The separation of work from family life is easier with regard to my research; if it’s 4:30pm, I’m not going to start writing something new because it’s nearly time to get the kids and make dinner. It’s not so easy with my teaching or administrative responsibilities; students and colleagues will email me at all hours and I’ll generally try to get a response to them as quickly as possible. I find myself answering email messages before 6am and after 5pm pretty much every day of the week, and on Sundays as well. I could do a better job of simply saving those messages for the next morning at 8am; it’s something I’m consciously trying to change but it’s difficult for me to let an email sit, especially if I know I can tap out a quick reply on my phone while I’m playing trains with my son.
I’d like to put up a hard barrier so that work doesn’t flow over into the time I spend with my family, but I suspect that’s a fight with myself that I’m going to have a tough time winning.
Rendall has been a guest on the Hero Report podcast and he’s got a short video of the Freak Factor concept on YouTube … but I wanted to promote his book — especially his book for kids — for a minute because I think it makes an incredibly valuable contribution.
Rendall’s central argument looks like this:
1. There is nothing wrong with you. Weaknesses are important clues to your strengths.
2. You find success when you find the right fit. You need to match your unique characteristics to situations that reward those qualities.
3. Your weaknesses make you different. They make you a freak and it’s good to be a freak.
This is an important message for all of us, to be sure, but it’s a potentially life-altering message for children who are struggling to fit in or who are always being told to sit still, be quiet, and do what they’re told.
Having children of my own was enough to convince me of the virtue of maximizing kids’ unique abilities rather than constantly urging them to conform, but spending a couple of days talking with Rendall was enough to convince me to pass his message along to others too.
This is the second time this week that a brand has responded to a tweet about my kids … and it’s only Wednesday.
Am I on some kind of list now?
Well played, Lipton.
About five and a half hours late … but, still, well played.
At no point this morning did it occur to me that tea would make a difference … but, since the first five cups of coffee haven’t done the trick, maybe I’ll drop you a line.
I’m dressing up as a dad who’s going to eat a ridiculous amount of his kids’ candy when they go to sleep …
A very satisfying afternoon yesterday of building and playing on the Island of Sodor with my son; he was especially pleased by my creation out of Magna-Tiles of Tidmouth Sheds to house his engines … but that might be because he doesn’t know about the $100 version of Tidmouth Sheds that can be — but hasn’t been — purchased.
It’s a rainy morning and, since we’ve been up since 5am, I asked my son if he wanted to curl up with me and take a nap in my bed. He was very excited and said that he did, as long as he could bring Cookie Monster.
We brought several more stuffed animals, for good measure, then we pulled up the covers. Immediately he started thrashing around, talking to the stuff animals in a stage whisper, and then — the pièce de résistance — he began to recite Are You My Mother? from memory, using Cookie Monster, Ernie, and Big Bird to represent the various characters.
It was as if I was a spectator in my own distant past, as this was almost exactly the sort of thing I would do to my grandfather on Saturday afternoons, after he’d returned home from synagogue, we’d eaten lunch together, and he’d offered to let me settle in for a nap with him.
I did three loads of laundry on Sunday, one on Tuesday, and two more today. I have two small children and, as cute as they are, they are disgusting animals. They drool, they use their shirts in place of napkins or tissues, they spill their meals all over themselves, they play outside and get a combination of mud, grass, and sunscreen all over themselves … and so on.
But this isn’t the problem.
The problem is that literally every single piece of my children’s tiny clothing was inside-out. Either I am a complete moron who cannot put clothing in the hamper without somehow turning it inside out or leaving it that way when it comes off the child … or else my washing machine or dryer is doing this to the clothing (possibly on purpose).
All I know is that my clothing and my wife’s clothing are almost always ready to fold right out of the dryer. My kids’ tiny shorts, t-shirts, and pajamas, however, have to be infuriatingly and time-consumingly restored to the proper right-side-out configuration. Every single item.