The Queen Size Bed

On the way home from Chipotle tonight Lincoln dumped a 20 oz. soda on the floor of our Honda Odyssey.

“Lincoln, why didn’t you hold your drink!?”

“Hold ON TO IT next time!!”

“What were you thinking??”

He’d placed the cup in the small cup holder in his booster seat, and it came out as I turned a corner. The van was dark and I couldn’t see his face back in the third row. Did he hear me? Did he care? He doesn’t say much.

The kids were strapped into their seats and couldn’t reach the cup on the floor, and I couldn’t easy pull over. So we drove home while the soda sloshed back and forth on the floor.

After we arrived home, I went inside to grab a towel before heading back to the van. And that’s when I noticed Lincoln. He was still in his seat. The others had gone in the house. He sat there alone in the dark not sure what to do or say. He held his Nintendo and looked down. He finally looked up, and I knew immediately that I’d overreacted.

This is one of those times as a parent I wish I could take a mulligan. If I could rewind the last 20 minutes of the drive home, I would act differently. Maybe I would think before opening my mouth and realize my 6-year old son has felt sick since last night. Of course he didn’t want to the soda to spill so why make him feel worse than he already does?

When I pulled Lincoln aside a while later and told him I was sorry, he didn’t say much before skipping upstairs.

Later tonight I went upstairs to find Luca, Lincoln and Anna on our bed with Kim. I joined them, and we laughed together while the kids had a discussion about their anatomy which lead to more laughter. Kim wants a king size bed so all six of us aren’t all scrunched together.

I felt bad about what I’d said to Lincoln and especially the tone I used. But he was too busy telling stories and giggling to act concerned when I sat down next to him. I ran my fingers through his blonde wiry hair. I kissed his warm forehead, and he looked at me. He didn’t have to say anything this time because his green eyes told me he’d forgiven me.

Maybe one day, Kim will get her king bed. But tonight our queen was the right size.

Looking Beyond the Grade

Kim and I went to school to meet with Luca’s teacher. She placed a manila folder on the table and walked us through the curriculum for third grade. This was our first time to meet with her since the first day of school.

We listened as she went through each subject and explained to us how Luca was progressing and made suggestions such as books she may enjoy reading. She was organized and concise. I could tell she cared about our daughter.

Luca loves school. She wants to perform well and takes pride in her work. Although I’m not certain how important letter grades are at this stage of her schooling, we encourage her to do her best and the grades will follow. Her teacher confirmed this was the case, and that made us smile.

But that’s not what made me the most proud.

I was most proud about a comment her teacher made near the end of our meeting. After we discussed the curriculum, test scores and grades. I don’t want to say it was an afterthought, but it wasn’t one of the items in the manila folder with a checkmark out to the side.

The teacher said, “I enjoy having Luca in my class because she’s kind and respectful to her classmates and teachers”.

Respect and kindness are not part of the WASL, ACT or SAT exams. And they may not determine which college she attends one day. Turn on the TV and you’ll see many examples of people who have made it to the top of their professions by being anything but respectful and kind.

But there’s nothing a teacher could say about Luca that would make me more proud than I am today.

Everyday Products

Every morning I stumble out of bed. Our boxer hears my steps and jumps off the couch begging me to let her outside which I do before heading downstairs to take a shower.

And there, looking back at me, is the $3 shower curtain. It’s light brown. Or tan or maybe off-white. Whatever the color, it’s the UGLIEST shower curtain liner I’ve seen.

I’m not sure what I was expecting from a three dollar liner, but it’s a worthless piece of plastic. I’d be better off hanging a large black garbage bag from the plastic hooks. It doesn’t hang straight, include crease marks or cling to the side of the shower worth a darn.

This brings me to a new rule I’m going to follow starting today: Don’t skimp on products I use every day.

I should have have skipped right over that three buck liner at Fred Meyer and settled on the designer model three times its price. Who can put a price on fancy sea shells first thing in the morning?

Do you use any products each day that provide more frustration than value?

Well, other than a phone running Windows Mobile.

Jumping in Mud Puddles

My head felt like it was in a vice. I spent the night on the couch with an ice pack draped over my forehead. My body was drained of every last ounce of energy. Luckily, my throat was back to normal, and I felt like the worst was behind me.

Yet I could not sleep.

But I had to get some rest because the next morning I’d signed up to chaperone a lively group of first graders on a field trip to a local farm. Doubts crept in. Maybe I should stay home and rest. This was Lincoln’s field trip. Had it been Luca’s there no way I’d miss it because she’d be crushed.

But Lincoln? His attitude is more “take it or leave it” when it comes to his parents involvement with class activities. I have no doubt he enjoys the time we visit his class. But he’s not clingy nor possesses any signs of separation anxiety. He’s always been this way at school, church or with baby sitters. He knows we’ll be back so what’s the big deal?

I staggered up to the school the next morning on two hours of sleep. I didn’t feel sick. I felt like I was sleep-walking. I arrived just in time to help the children board the bus. Several of Lincoln’s friends asked to sit next to him, and he seemed confused about how to answer. His teacher was nearby and told the kids that Lincoln would be sitting next to his father.

Lincoln curled up next to the window. The farm would be wet and muddy so I helped him change into a pair of red rain boots. He said they felt too big and they were. I pushed his Levis down into the boots hoping that would help hold them on his feet. When I was done, I zipped his jacket while he continued to look out the window.

His mind was elsewhere. Does he know I’m here? Does he care? I asked a few questions. All I got in return was a “yep” an “I dunno” and few blank stares.

At the farm, we pressed apples to make cider, fed chickens, churned butter, picked up hay with a pitchfork, and learned how to plant seeds. Lincoln was on his best behavior, but then, he always is at school. I watched how he interacted with his fellow students and teachers. He treats everyone with kindness and respect. I have a better understanding why he’s well-liked among his peers.

I loved watching him slosh around the farm in his red boots and oversized blue jacket. More than once, I removed his glasses to wipe off mud. I was the ball washer at the golf course except I washed glasses.

When the time came to return to school, the kids lined up to board the bus. Lincoln stood next to me and looked straight ahead. He’s thinking about something, but what? Is he glad I tagged along? He’s not easy to read. He appeared to enjoy himself at the farm. But I don’t know.

The yellow bus pulled into the parking lot. As we walked across the lot, one of the teachers reminded everyone to avoid the mud puddles which had the exact opposite effect on the kids. Mud puddles were made for first graders. They looked like so much fun that I jumped in a couple. Lincoln thought that was funny even if the other chaperones didn’t.

I grabbed Lincoln’s hand so he wouldn’t slip going up the stairs to the bus. He couldn’t wait to take off his boots. As we made our way down the aisle, a girl called out, “Hey Lincoln, come sit by me!”

“I’m sitting by my dad” he replied.

In his own way, I think he’s glad I showed up.

Next time I’m bringing my own pair of rain boots.

Making WordPress Mobile Phone Friendly

Over the past year I’ve noticed a substantial increase in the number of visitors to my blog are using the iPhone or other mobile phone. As much time as you put in making your blog look great on a large monitor, it may still look strange and load slowly on mobile phones.

Enter WPtouch for WordPress.

WPtouch is a plugin for WordPress that makes your site more accessible to mobile phones. It loads fast and looks fantastic. I’ve had a number of people email asking why my site looks so good on their phone, and I point them to this plugin. I’m convinced I have at least one reader who visits my blog mainly because it looks so sweet on her iTouch. At least, that’s what she tells me.

Here’s how my blog looked before I installed WPtouch. The text is small and difficult to read, and a lot of scrolling is required to read more than the most recent post.

With WPtouch installed, here’s the first page a visitor using a mobile user will see. This makes it easy to select from a number of posts including the latest. One quick finger flick and one has access to a few weeks worth of posts.

And here’s the same article as above as viewed in WPtouch. It’s perfectly formatted for my screen. I don’t have to pinch and pull the content in order to read it. It makes for a much better visitor experience.

One other feature I like about WPtouch is that it gives the reader the choice to turn off the plugin and view the site in its native formatting. I can’t think of many reason one would do that but it’s a welcome option to have.

If you have manage your own WordPress blog, I highly recommend WPtouch. It’s free and a cinch to install. It has a number of options you can fiddle around with, although I leave all settings at their defaults.

Left Scratching My Head At Barnes and Noble

I’ve been looking forward to the release of a book called “The Book of Basketball” by Bill Simmons. Simmons is one of my favorite columnists from ESPN.

I considered pre-ordering the book on Amazon. But while I was in Bellevue this afternoon, I decided to swing by Barnes and Noble and buy the book. It wasn’t in stock. As I was about to leave, the Barnes and Noble employee asked if I’d like to be notified by email when the book arrived.

Sure, why not. I gave him my email and he said, “That book is $30 in store.”

“In store?”

“Yes, in store price is $30. That means you want it now and will pick it up from the store.”

“But you don’t have it now. The same book is $16.50 at Amazon”, I tell him.

“You can always order it from our website, where I’m sure it’s less than $30.”

I left the store shaking my head. As much as I want to support local shops, $30 is quite the markup for a book. Does Barnes and Noble want my business? I left with doubts.

What if the employee had offered to ship the book directly to my house at the same price ($17.55) I can purchase the book from the Barnes and Noble website? I would have purchased it on the spot.

It’s only one book and I’m just some guy off the street. But Barnes and Noble missed an opportunity to sell me a book today. And more important, I doubt I’ll go back the next time I’m looking for a new hardcover.

The Amazon website was more helpful than the Barnes and Noble employee. I came home from work and ordered two books and some supplies from Amazon. I’m sure it won’t be the last time.

My Younger Brother

I’ve been thinking about my brother, Brandon, since I came across this post from Ben Talbert.

I don’t know when he began beating me at sports, but it couldn’t have been long after I returned from Germany at age 21. Although I am seven year his senior, he was now taller and more muscular than I was.

He was also a much better athlete. Tossing the football came easy to him. His arm had a natural motion while I couldn’t toss a spiral if my life depended on it. I enjoyed attending his games, especially his junior year when he was the starting quarterback.

When the football season ended and fall turned to winter we headed up Little Cottonwood canyon to spend the day skiing at Alta. As great as the skiing was (and Utah snow amazing), what I enjoyed most was the ride up the lift together. It was a chance to talk about sports, girls, school or whatever without any distractions. Sometimes we’d sit in silence taking in the scenery.

It wasn’t long before he became a better skier. Whatever the sport, it came easy to him. And not just sports. But school, and friendships and life. Maybe that’s just my perception. It’s possible he was working like mad behind the scenes and what I was able to see appeared to come easy. I’ve always been a little envious of him in this regard.

Eventually, I got married, finished college and moved to Seattle. The distance has affected our friendship more than others. I see my parents more regularly because they are able to travel to Seattle more often while Brandon and Jenn are busy raising a young family with four children. He’s busy and I’m busy. Everyone is busy. Lame excuse.

Tonight I sat on the couch watching a baseball games I could not care less about. I wonder what Brandon is doing? Seven thirty in Seattle means eight thirty in Utah. He’s probably putting his kids in bed. Maybe he’s in bed and a call would disturb him. Or worse and wake his kids.

A dozen excuses flashed through my mind.

But I grabbed the phone and dialed his number. He answered and we talked for nearly an hour. Just like weekends he stayed at my tiny apartment in North Salt Lake. Or like the times rode the chair lift together. Or laughed over a pizza at The Pie.

We are different in many ways. He’s calm, collected and avoids confrontation. I’m opinionated and moody at times. Brandon will ease up on his first serve if he’s ripping me to shreds in a game of tennis because he doesn’t want to embarrass his older brother. I’m hyper-competitive and can’t allow him beat me at a game of basketball even if that means I have bump, hack and hard foul my way to victory.

Yet we have a lot in common. We both speak German, love cars and goofy comedy like The Onion.

I wouldn’t change anything about my only brother. I just wish he lived a little closer.

Halloween 2009 Carving

What usually took a couple hours turned into a five hour carving marathon. Luca, Lincoln and Anna wanted to try their hand at pumpkin carving.

What I didn’t anticipate was that carving was the sideshow.

The kids really wanted to design their pumpkin. And design they did until black and purple Crayola marker covered their pumpkins. I didn’t dare ask how they knew where to cut. I gave each them a tiny pumpkin saw from one of our many carving kits and they went to town without cutting off any fingers.

Most years, I carve a couple of pumpkins. Last year I waited until trick or treaters began showing up before I finished this pumpkin. Tonight, I goofed around with the kids and finished one pumpkin. I like how his hair turned out.

Leaves are Falling

“Who wants to help pickup leaves?”

*silence*

“Who wants to help rake leaves?”

*a few grumbles*

“Who wants to JUMP in the leaves?”

*MAD STAMPEDE*

We have two huge trees that dump large colorful leaves all over our backyard. Each year we stuff about 25 Home Depot degradable bags full of leaves during October and November.

But not before they’ve been raked into giant piles and jumped in. Or stuffed down a few shirts and pants. Or tossed into the air and blown over the fence into the neighbor’s yard.

Oh ya, the kids enjoy playing in the leaves too.

Strength in Few

Left to their own devices, the kids will turn any room in the house into a blanket and cushion fort. I don’t mind it because it reminds me when I used to the do same thing with my parent’s brown and orange couch.

When it was time to pickup, I used to call the kids together to explain how they needed to work together to clean the room. But, over time, I found the kids spent more time debating who would fold blankets or arrange cushions than cleaning. Each task required a mini-meeting, and each child felt he/she got the worst job. A simple task that should have taken 10 minutes took 30. And nobody was happy.

Lately, I’ve changed my tactics. The goal remains a clean living room, but I’ve found a way to accomplish it in half the time:

Assign one child to the task.

For example, when I asked Lincoln to take down the latest fort, he didn’t spend the first five minutes telling Anna she was folding the blankets all wrong. Anna wasn’t around to drive the other two crazy by whistling the Smurf’s theme song. And Luca wasn’t able to sit on the couch and bark commands like a drill sergeant.

Lincoln was able to figure out the most efficient way to clean the living room with no distractions from his sisters. If he did a good job, he’d garner all the praise. No sisters stealing the spotlight. And that’s exactly what happened. Strength in numbers? Not in this case.

I’m convinced the same situation plays out every day in nearly every business. A job needs to get done so a committee is created, and more time is spent in meetings than solving the problem.

How many times have witnessed a software projects drag on for months with little to show afterwards? I’ve seen this scenario play out at nearly every company I’ve worked for. The assumption that the more people you toss at the problem, the faster you’ll reach completion is false. The opposite is true. Each person you add will want to make his or her “mark” on the project. The more people you invite to a project, the longer it takes to reach consensus (if you ever reach it). More people = more meetings = less time spent doing actual work.

I spent years trying to create a team to create a company website. I recruited a number of talented people to help me. But it was impossible to get everyone together. No one felt like taking ownership. And why should they when any accolades they might receive would be diluted by the size of the group. There was always another project that was more important. So nothing got done for many years. It wasn’t until I convinced my boss that I could create the site with the help one friend that we finally made progress.

When a project comes in at work, I now intentionally figure out how many people I need and cut that number in half. It’s not easy to do because I’ve been taught that adding more resources will result in a shortened schedule. That’s usually not the case. Just because you can add more resources, does not mean you should.

Think back to the last time you created and finished a project that made you proud. Were you part of a large team? Were you part of a small group? Or was it only you?