Tag: parenting

Why I won’t — and can’t — be funny today

image I stand in the slightly cracked doorway of my son’s room, studying the sliver of his face illuminated by the dim light spilling in from the hallway. He’s 15, and just a year younger than the two teens who died earlier this morning. On the floor next to his bed is his cell phone, seemingly discarded, just below a dangling hand.

The one with the baseball scar on the knuckle.

It’s not until I notice the moisture glistening around his eyes, and see the tear edge hesitantly down his cheek, that I realize he’s only pretending to sleep

His phone buzzes and lights up momentarily as someone’s grief is expressed in a Tweet. I glimpse a screen that scrolls endlessly with disbelief. Outrage. Sadness and pain. Classmates, friends and family trying to comprehend the incomprehensible…

It began with my fire department pager buzzing and shrieking a little after 7 a.m., followed by the report of a motor vehicle accident 15 miles away. A car over an embankment. Possible entrapment. Five occupants; two unresponsive. The caller was one of the victims. All were students heading to school. Continue reading Why I won’t — and can’t — be funny today

No pumpkin-carving experience is complete without a near-fatal knife wound

imageCarving a jack-o-lantern used to require little more than a pumpkin, an oversized kitchen knife, and a tourniquet. It was a simple matter of plunging a 10-inch French knife into the gourd of your choice and creating a triangle-eyed, square-toothed masterpiece of horror.

In those days, the trickiest thing about making your jack-o-lantern was deciding on how to light the candle.

Option one: Light candle, then attempt to lower it into the pumpkin without catching your sleeve on fire.
Option two: Put the candle inside the pumpkin first. Then attempt to light it without catching your sleeve on fire.
Option three: Accept the inevitable and just light yourself on fire, then go find a candle.

After a quick trip to the emergency room for stitches and some light skin grafting, you could return home and set your jack-o-lantern on the porch, where it would remain until gravity and molecular breakdown eventually caused it to collapse in on itself like the birth of a new star — appropriately enough, usually around Christmas time. Continue reading No pumpkin-carving experience is complete without a near-fatal knife wound

Seven more minutes of childhood; a father’s wish for his daughter the morning of 9-11

I’ll never forget how I felt this day 13 years ago as an American, a firefighter and as a father — and how each held its own kind of hurt that has never completely healed. But of the three, being a father watching the sparkle in my then six-year-old daughter’s eyes noticeably fade just a bit continues to be the memory that lingers most…

image My alarm clock went off the same as it always did back then, coming to life with the morning news — my preference over the annoying, high-pitched alternative of chatter. Instinctively, I swatted the snooze button and bought myself another seven minutes of sleep.

In the years since, I’ve thought a lot about those seven minutes, and how the simple push of a button postponed a bitter reality for just a little longer. When the news came on again, word of the first airliner crashing into the World Trade Center stopped my hand just short of another seven minutes of blissful ignorance — a time span that now seems like an eternity.

Lying there, listening to the details, I regretted not pushing the button one more time.

A hundred more times.

A thousand.

In that same moment, I also understood that the impassive gaze of terrorism could only be averted for so long, and that, eventually, I’d have to meet it — along with the questioning gaze of my daughter. Continue reading Seven more minutes of childhood; a father’s wish for his daughter the morning of 9-11

Children’s photos sure to give you a Long Awkward Pause

Because tomorrow is National Grandparents Day, and we know our grandparents would never say anything bad about any photo of their grandchildren, I and the rest of the staff over at Long Awkward Pause will say it for them during this week’s Saturday Six.

You’re welcome, Grandparents…

1. Ballerina And The Game Twister Combined

image

BrainRants: This one’s a future Russian weightlifter. Or Oompa Loompa

Omawarisan: There’s so much here! Here’s what I’m settling on. This kid has huge hands. Her hands are like white baseball gloves.

Ned: I believe this is the earliest known photo of John Wayne Gacy.

(I hate to say it, but we have more examples of children who are probably in therapy now thanks to photos like this. If you’re missing one from your album, chances are it’s on this week’s Saturday Six at Long Awkward Pause…)

Remember when the school supply list was just a Pee Chee?

[Still looking for that pair of No. 2 red-handled safety scissors required for Mrs. Flunkum’s eighth-grade algebraic lit. class? You’re not alone. As government spending on education has gotten smaller, school supply lists have grown to the size of a Nasa space mission checklist. Never mind that Nasa doesn’t actually go into space anymore. The point is, this week’s Wednesday Rewind doesn’t require a protractor…]

Education Secretary Arnie Duncan promises no child's will get left behind when it comes to getting a Pee Chee folder.
Education Secretary Arnie Duncan promises no child will get left behind when it comes to getting a Pee Chee folder.
When I was a kid, our school supply list consisted of a Star Wars notebook and a Pee Chee folder. The notebook helped us organize our assignments; the Pee-Chee folder was used for entertaining ourselves during class by drawing thought balloons for the athletes on the cover.

Football Guy: (Getting tackled) “Oh sure — run the old L-42 play, THAT always works…”
Tennis Girl: “If my skirt gets any shorter, I’ll be playing Olympic volleyball…”

You get the idea.

Just about everyone remembers this folder because, like Al Sharpton’s hair gel, it has remained virtually unchanged since 1964. What has changed, however, is the growing list of items parents must provide throughout the school year. This comes in addition to rudimentary things, such as clothing, snacks and a recent urine sample. The reason is simple: The government is tired of wasteful spending, particularly in the educational system, where a special task force has discovered that schools routinely get bilked into spending thousands of dollars on paper alone.

“And, shockingly, most of this paper has turned out to be blank,” said Education Secretary Arne Duncan. Continue reading Remember when the school supply list was just a Pee Chee?

School has started and my kids have become pod people

Honey, I don't think the kids' alarms were set for school...
“Hey, Honey? I don’t think the kids’ alarms went off for school!”
Now that school is back in session, we have settled into our normal routine here at the Hickson household. This routine is based on a strict time schedule that my wife and I have developed over the years to ensure that, each morning at precisely 7 a.m., all hell breaks loose. This includes — but isn’t limited to — at least one person (or family pet) running through the house in boxer shorts, and my daughter locking the bathroom door for some “quiet time” while heating a Pop-Tart with her hair dryer.

Though we know this pandemonium could be avoided by just getting up a little earlier, the fact is, my wife and I are the only morning people in our family. As anyone in this situation already knows, this is sort of like being the only lambs at a coyote picnic. Continue reading School has started and my kids have become pod people

Parenting teens is easy once you embrace being an embarrassment

My son really hates it when I call for a price check.
My son really hates it when I call for a price check.

Everyone with teenagers please raise your free hand. And by “free” hand, I mean whichever hand isn’t either guarding your wallet or refrigerator door. For parents without a free hand because you are guarding both, don’t worry; we can see it in your eyes. It’s that blank, pleading stare recognized and shared by all parents with teenagers.

It’s a look that says, If not for over-the-counter medication and America’s Got Talent, I would curl into a fetal position until my kids turn 20.

Part of what makes raising teens so challenging, aside from mood swings that would frighten both Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, is the lengths parents will go to avoid doing things their teen views as “totally embarrassing,” such as breathing while in the presence of someone they might know from school. Or making eye contact with them anywhere outside of the home. Or referring to them as “Pookie” or “Scooter” while standing in line with other parents and teens during school registration. (Read more at Long Awkward Pause…)

Ice water in my veins? Ummm… not exactly

This would've been refreshing if we lived somewhere warmer
This would’ve been refreshing if we lived somewhere warmer like The Equator.
Ordinarily, my day doesn’t end with a bucket of ice water being dumped over my head by a junior varsity football team.

No, it’s true.

But thanks to a challenge issued by Adam Sendek at Long Awkward Pause, my plans to watch the sunset with my wife on the porch while drinking something icy and alcoholic turned into something else entirely.

Except for the icy part. There was actually plenty of that.

By now, most of you have seen at least one of ALS Ice Bucket Challenge videos circulating the Internet, during which [Spoiler Alert!] someone gets a bucket of ice water dumped on their head. What started out as a celebrities-only challenge to raise money for ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease) research, has grown exponentially to include thousands of non-celebrities, all of whom are united in hope that, some day, everyone on the planet will be able to trace themselves back to Kevin Bacon. Continue reading Ice water in my veins? Ummm… not exactly

Potty train your child using the Jedi Knight method

image As I sat reading an article about the new Star Wars Trilogy now in production, I suddenly had an epiphany: Potty training our children had been a lot like training young Jedi Knights!

This prompted me to devise a what I am calling the Jedi Potty-Training Program — something that is spiritual, aggressive and, hopefully, a lot less messy than the old-fashioned method of staring at your child until they make a face that looks like they are having a BM, then racing them to the commode.

Because of our subject matter’s explicit nature, we will be using GALACTIC terms during this discussion. Whenever you see this special GALACTIC font style, you’ll know that I’m JUST MESSING WITH YOU.

Ha Ha! No, that font means that it’s important enough to justify wielding my special GALACTIC font-making powers as a way to highlight the fact that I’m BEING SUED BY GEORGE LUCUS. Continue reading Potty train your child using the Jedi Knight method

Don’t mess with The Master when it comes to fake poo

It takes an artist to bring this rubber poo to life. Or maybe just somebody weird.
It takes an artist to bring this rubber poo to life. Or maybe just somebody weird.
Around noon today, I will effectively be putting the “finishing move” on my son regarding an ongoing practical-joke battle involving fake dog poo. Though I will be working on deadline here at the newspaper several blocks from home, I will know exactly when my triumphant moment occurs. That’s because I will hear his anguished holler as he drops to his knees, fists raised, and cries out “DANGGGG YOUUUUU!”

Or something to that effect.

I know this may come as a surprise to many of you, but yes: I own a piece of fake dog poo. I’ve had it for years and pride myself on executing it masterfully in terms of timing, placement and appearance. Just putting it on the floor is for amateurs. A true maestro of poo knows that turning it from a single note to a symphony requires, well… a movement. There needs to be a set-up, i.e., a reason for the poo to be there. For example, last year someone in the sales department brought their dog to work because their home was being fumigated. The dog, a nervous sheltie, routinely got out of the sales room and roamed through the office. Continue reading Don’t mess with The Master when it comes to fake poo