What’s In A Name

Have you ever been accused of not knowing how to spell your own child’s name? Did you spell it uniquely because you wanted it to be as special as your child? Was the unique spelling meaningful in some way? Or do you have a name which represents something important to your parents or heritage. Does it hold the same value to you?

I wrote my first short story when I was 10. Titled: The Arena, it was one notebook page long--no paragraph breaks--and told the “story” of a fictional, futuristic coliseum where mutants fought for the amusement of a “brain-in-a-jar” emperor on a holiday called “dependence day.” Symbolism aside, it was special to me; the story represented a step towards my dream of being a writer. One of the characters--and the only one named, directly--was a mutant lizard man who went from being the underdog in the fight to the champion, and hero, at the end of the story.

The name stayed with me for years after. It was the name I used for a mutant lizardman with a poison stinger-tipped tail in a role-playing game called Gamma World. I briefly toyed with changing my own name to it, legally, while I was in middle school. In high school, I had the name engraved on my class ring.

Forward to 1991, my wife and I are expecting our first child. My amazing wife agrees to let me give the name to our firstborn son. My thoughts are: he will be as unique as his name and he will overcome obstacles like his namesake in that arena story. He was born one month early and spent his first week of life under an oxygen tent in NICU because his lungs weren’t fully developed. At the end of that week the doctor took the tent off, saying our son needed to breathe on his own, or he never would. After a tense and tearful couple of hours he did breathe and today I cannot remember the last time he was sick. He is as “healthy as a horse,” my Papaw would say. He did overcome his own titanic battle, and has become quite a man.

The name has presented it’s own challenges over the years. Many people pronounce it incorrectly and when we correct them, some get it and some don’t. A relative accused me of not knowing how to spell my own son’s name when she got the birth announcement (my wife and I still laugh about that one today, 24 years later.) Some teachers didn’t get it as well, and early on, I determined not to fight it if my son didn’t want to embrace the uniqueness of the name; the sentiment attached to it was mine, not his; although, I did give him my old class ring to keep (it had his name on it, after all). But he did embrace it in his own way and even he corrects people on the pronunciation.

Today, I see a lot of unique names around. And many parents naming their children with unusual spellings and pronunciations. Is it a form of rebellion against the naming conventions of the past, is it the beginnings of a change for the future? I wonder how many parents are trying to imprint a uniqueness on the child and how many have a story like mine, a name that came from a special source and they wish to pass it on through the family.

Every child is unique and special, ask any parent (or Shakespeare.) Its not the name; the name is just a brand, the being makes the difference. What the child is and what they become determine their uniqueness, not the hopes, dreams and wishes we lay on them when we write on their birth certificate.

When I Feel...

“You can feel however you want to feel, as long as you don’t hurt anyone, even yourself.”

My wife and I always said this to our children, because sometimes--in our respective extended families--emotions were suppressed. People were not allowed to feel or to express what they felt for fear of upsetting things or offending people. There is a fine line between being aware of how your thoughts and words will affect those around you, and not being concerned with what others think of you. Expression is important, and so is fair treatment of others.

As human beings, we are going to have some very extreme thoughts, things we would never in a million years want others to know about, actions that we would never actually go through with (how many times have you said you wanted to kill that driver ahead of you in traffic and how many times have you actually done it?)

Allowing ourselves to feel the way we feel is important. If you are constantly pushing your feelings down without at least reflecting on them briefly, you are doing yourself a disservice. Suppression and repression are what lead to anger management issues, self-loathing and sudden violent temper tantrums. We need to remind ourselves that it is okay to be angry, sad, disappointed just as much as it is important to feel happy, excited and joyful.

We have these emotions for a reason, and we are still reasoning beings. Just because we picture in our heads the obnoxious politician being run over by his own bus, we know that would not solve anything. The sudden movie in our heads is just a passing flash; life goes on and we can write an angry letter, peel some potatoes with a very sharp knife or just snap our fingers at it and dismiss the inconvenience from our consciousness (okay, I wish it were that easy.)

The point here--getting back to it--is to give our children (and ourselves) the tools to handle life’s challenges. And part of that is the emotions we feel. When I was in school, we had an assignment to write our own children’s book. We could do whatever topic we wished, whatever format we liked but it had to conform to children’s literary standards.

I created a book out of construction paper using circles, triangles, squares and other shapes to convey simple scenes with one line of text at the bottom of each page. It was similar to a poem in structure with each back to back set of pages showing a before and after. For example, the first page would go something like:

Turning the page over would then show this:

The idea was to show a situation and the response from a child’s perspective. My thinking was to provide a talking point for parents and their children to discuss potentially difficult topics. But in class, some suggested that it gave the children permission to feel unsure about things, that not everything had to have a conclusion and that was okay.

I began to think about this again recently. Here is a more light-hearted sample:

Wait for it…

What do you think?

What do you do when faced with things that are frustrating or disappointing or downright infuriating?

Tell me how you feel in the comments.

Drive Time

By David

My youngest son is taking driver training and practicing his skills in the family vehicle. Helping him to put the training book rules into practice is a challenge sometimes; it has required me to do some intentional thinking about how I drive. What are my driving habits? What do I do--subconsciously--as I navigate the streets?

I used to play a boardgame called “Car Wars,” (pictured above) a game of cars with mounted guns trying to outmaneuver other, similarly armed, cars. The game provided a template you set next to your piece; decide how sharply you want to turn and the template showed where your vehicle ended up afterward. Obstacles, and other cars, were easy to see (not always easy to avoid.)

Out on the real streets things are not so cut and dry. Analyzing my own driving habits led me to a pair of recurring actions: I check the rearview mirrors almost constantly--for lane orientation and blind spots--and I spin the steering wheel back at the halfway point in a turn to avoid overcorrecting. I shared these habits with my son, I don’t know if it was the last one, but lately his turns have improved.

Often, we clash over the book (information in the driving manual and what he has learned in the class) and the street (experience with other drivers) The rules don’t always interact well with the traffic on the road. For example, he stops 5-6 feet away from an intersection. Now, I think he should be pulling forward closer to the corner for better visibility, but he does not. Was this instructed to prevent new drivers from stopping too short? It can make for some frightening situations when a tree or other obstruction prevents seeing traffic more than half a block away: either he pulls out without a clear picture of what is coming, or he hesitates too long and misses a window into traffic.

Note: Despite my above questions, we are happy with the driving school we chose. We picked this particular one as it only hires police officers to instruct classes. It is important to start them out on the right track. (And to my children’s credit, they have not had any tickets or accidents so far--two of them have been driving for eight years, combined time.)

Thinking about how I drive led to a discussion at home about “metathinking.” Literally, thinking about thinking. How do we analyze what we know or the way we do things in order to teach others? Breaking processes down into their component parts to make them understandable and comprehensive. The math sentence 2+2=4 seems easy until you think of what is involved in getting to that point. You have to know what a number is, that it means quantity (visually, it is much easier to explain this concept; teaching it verbally requires teaching vocabulary as well.). You have to be able to read the sentence, which means you must know that the symbol “2” means “two,” which means a “pair” of things. Likewise, you have to know the symbols for “plus” and “equals” and the meaning of those terms. You need to know your numbers at least up to four. That is a lot of background just to get to something so simple, don’t you think?

Now, what if the person you are teaching learns differently than you do? You have to be able to present it in a way they will understand and process the information to get the most out of your instruction. How do you approach helping someone to understand and learn something you know? Do you think about such details, or am I overthinking it? (Mega-meta-thinking)

The Consequences of Parenting

By David

Becoming a parent is easy; the follow-through of BEING a parent is the hard part. I have an acquaintance (lets call him Ward.) Ward has five children, aged elementary up to high school. I have four, from elementary up to college. Now, I don’t consider myself a better parent because I have been at it longer, but..(you knew that was coming, didn’t you?) I like to think I’m more successful at it because I follow through.

Children learn through practice; it’s like the scientific method:

1. Observe

2. Make a guess

3. Try it out

4. See what happens

5. Return to 2., using those results, repeat.

Consistency is a key factor. If the results are always different, they get stuck in a loop leading to either boredom or frustration. When you say something, children will trust you, until they see different results for themselves. This may be by simple observation or by testing the limits. (For my own children, testing the limits occurred during the even years; the terrible 2’s, 4’s, 6’s,...18’s, 20’s, you get the idea)

So, when I tell my children, “don’t go out of this yard or you’re coming in the house!” They expect to come in if they step out of the boundaries. If I do not follow through with the condition, they may not believe me next time, my credibility and authority will sink.

By example, Ward was packing up his minivan, getting ready for a camping trip; his children nowhere to be seen, except the youngest (8) who is on the side of the house hitting a piece of wood with an aluminum bat.

“Knock it off!” Yells Ward..

“Okay.” the boy stops, watches his father return to the van, and resumes his testing of what the wood does when he smacks it with the bat.

Ward pokes his head out of the van again. “I said knock it off! Go inside and get your blanket. I want to get packed so we can get out of here!”

The boy doesn’t respond verbally, but waits for his dad to resume packing, then he resumes hitting the piece of wood.

Ward steps out of the van and approaches the boy, who stops, lowers the bat, and looks a little sheepish.

“That’s it,” Ward yells. “You are not going camping with us. You’re staying home!” He takes the bat and hurls it aside, returning to the van. The boy just looks on, appearing to consider his next course of diversion.

Now, Ward had already told me they were all going to be gone and the boy was obviously too young to stay by himself. It is an empty threat that he has no intention of carrying out. And this is not the first; Ward doesn’t follow through even when he makes a reasonable threat. He simply sighs and walks away. It’s too much effort for him to spend the time carrying out the punishment. He wants to move on to something else more enjoyable. The boy knows it, I know it, and the rest of his kids know it.That is why they don’t really listen to him unless there is something in it for them.

Where is June (his wife) while all of this is going on? Usually, whenever real parenting needs to happen she disappears, and when the coast is clear she reappears. Ward and June practice what my wife calls uninvolved parenting.

Every parent has probably overheard (or even said) things that would never happen in an effort to urge kids to follow directives. But that is where the consistency matters. If you always use ridiculous threats and promises, the children will see no benefit to following authority. The first time they see something actually happen, with consequences, it will probably make them step back, dumbfounded or possibly angry.

As parents, we have a responsibility to ready our children for the outside world. They need to be able to determine potential consequences of their actions and whether someone is bluffing or being genuine. It’s a matter of simple survival. An empty threat now and then is okay because it provides a contrast to the real ones. Helping to build the child’s judgement by giving them comparisons. That punishment is ludicrous, the child thinks, there is no way they can back that up, why would they say that? Now they have to think, consider what you might really have meant, read between your words.

By the same token, parents need to be prepared to back up what they say when necessary. Then, when it happens, the child will think about it next time: That promise sounds like it could actually happen; do I really want to risk it?

This way, they learn to think on their feet. When they are on their own, they will have to predict the consequences for themselves and weigh the risks. If all your threats are without meaning, what will they expect? That nothing will (or should) happen? What about when another person, or adult, says something (and follows through)? Will the child feel betrayed? Will they think it unfair, even if it was perfectly reasonable?

We have to learn consequences if we are to survive and cope with the world. Follow-through as a parent is a big part of teaching that. What do you think?

Her Glass Slipper was by Converse: Being an intentional Dad

Teacher, Trooper, Gamer, Dad readers ~ Join me over at Whatever Girls for this weeks post:

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Her Glass Slipper was by Converse on Whatever Girls

Her Glass Slipper was by Converse

Its been a long day and there's still work to do

She's pulling at me saying, "Dad, I need you
There's a ball at the castle and I've been invited
And I need you to practice my dancing, oh please, daddy, please"

Steven Curtis Chapman - Cinderella

This song, Cinderella by Steven Curtis Chapman, punctuated the Princess Ball my daughter and I attended last month. Coincidentally, these lyrics of the song almost perfectly describe the theme of the evening…

The Whatever Girls is an organization begun by a friend of mine and designed to provide intentional guidelines for parents and daughters about making good choices. The world has become so overloaded with options for expression and desire, that the question becomes one of discernment.

I think it is most important to talk to children, even--and especially--about the uncomfortable stuff. If you can talk, without judging, and give them your opinion without dismissing theirs, it can go a long way toward creating a situation where they will make the right choice. Often, they listen, and if they feel their thoughts are important (i.e. you didn't just tell them they were wrong, or bad,) they may make the decision you wanted them to; because you valued them, they will value you.

How do we know what is the right choice, or even the best choice? The Whatever Girls provides a forum for helping guide the decision making process. And helping parents and their children--a companion forum for boys is being discussed--talk about what might be important to both.

I hope you check it out, whether you’re a parent or not (you might be the cool aunt or uncle one day.)

The Princess Ball was a dance designed to allow dads and their daughters to share a night out together. For me and my daughter, it provided for bonding as well as time to share some proper date etiquette (she was rather annoyed with me because I didn't open her door quickly enough. Later, she waited very primly for me to pull out her seat; I hope she doesn't settle for any less when she truly starts to date.)

We talked, we laughed, we took goofy pictures, and even danced (I think my wife was a little jealous.) At the end of the evening, they played the song above and we slow danced, both of us bawling our eyes out. It was incredible, and I don’t think she will forget it.

I know I will never forget it; it was practice for that day when I will have to let her go. I know it won’t ever be easy to let her grow up, but I hope that we’ll never grow apart. And no matter how grown up she gets, I will never grow tired of hearing: “Dad, I need you…”