Making Tradeoffs as a Father

We didn’t have children till I was in my 30’s. By that time I’d seen many examples of how couples raised their children. By far the most influential example of how to raise children came from my own parents. I remember something my anthropology professor said. Something along the lines of “you will raise your kids the way you were raised”.

Lately I’ve thought about what lessons I’ve taken from my my parents. Was my anthropology professor correct? Am I raising my kids the same way I was raised?

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Kim and I don’t have as well defined roles as my parents had. I go off to work each day like my father did, but I don’t work as many hours as he did. In fact, I’ll bet I work half the hours he put in during the school year. I understand why he worked as hard as he did. He enabled my mother, who was ill much of the time, to stay home to raise five children. My father worked as a teacher which didn’t give him as much scheduling flexibility as I have employed in the technology field. 

The downside to my father’s choice of professions is that I didn’t know him very well until I entered high school. He was off to work most days before I was awake, and later, his coaching assignments filled many late nights away from home. I don’t recall him accompanying me on a field trip or taking time off to catch a movie with me.

The thought of my father playing hokey to hang out with us was unfathomable. As a child, I had the impression his work came before everything else. At the time I figured all fathers were gone from dawn till dusk. I don’t recall any fathers accompanying their children on grade school field trips.

The upside of my father’s profession was that I had the opportunity to spend a lot of time with him as my coach in high school baseball, basketball and football. He oftentimes gave me a ride to and from school. I have many fond memories of those few minutes we had together discussing sports and school. Although things worked out fine and we are close friends today, I wish I could have built a relationship with him sooner.

And that’s the one thing I wanted to improve upon when I had kids. I don’t want to wait till they are in their early teens before I get to know them well. I remember seeing my dad on the weekends but not often during the week.

It’s not easy balancing work and family. There are times when I do one well while slacking a bit at the other.

I don’t know how it will work out. In a sense, I’m betting that one day I’ll look back and be grateful I took time away from work to spend with my family. Yet I’m fully aware that doing so could cost me promotions down the road. I’ve made sure my manager understands my main priority is my family. I don’t believe that makes me a less valuable employee. But I can’t be sure I’ll always work for someone who sees it that way.

My father was more involved in the lives of his children than his father was with his own. I have no doubt my dad wants me to spend more time with my kids than he was able to spend with us.

If my children look back on how they were raised and only find one area they’d like to improve, I’ll feel like I’ve done well in raising them to be better parents than I’ve been.

Vista Tip: Pin Your Programs

The Windows Vista START menu is a bit of a mixed bag compared to the one found in Windows XP. I’ve found its behavior to be erratic at times yet more powerful and useful once I’ve spent time to tame it.

Here’s one of my favorite and easiest tips I use all the time. Have you ever installed a program only to find it hiding in the long list install programs? Wouldn’t it be easier if you could easily move that program to the first level START menu?

Sure, you can drag shortcuts back and forth but here’s an easier way. I recently installed Photoshop. I’d like to add it to the START menu.

  1. Click on the Windows icon and then All Programs.
  2. Find the program you want to bring forward. (Photoshop in my case)
  3. Right click on it and select “Pin to Start Menu”.

Here’s how my Start Menu looked before, during and after with Photoshop added.

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I reserve the first level START menu for programs I use every day. Sure, I could added these to the Quick Launch area but it starts to look crowded. Plus, having these program on the Start menu allows me to use the Window and arrow keys to launch them without having to lift my hands from the keyboard.

Autumn Leaf Raking

Our entire backyard was covered in leaves. Given the amount of rain we’ve had over the past two week, I figured I’d better take the opportunity to rake a few piles this afternoon.

And what better way to shorten the task than recruit the kids to pitch in.

That was my bright idea anyway.

Here’s the breakdown on how my afternoon leaf raking project played out. Needless to say, the leaves won today.

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Grapefruit

It doesn’t seem so long ago when I’d run home from school and beg mom to cut me a pink grapefruit the size of a softball.

Mom was a surgeon with a paring knife. She was able to cut each section just so making it simple for me to spoon out. It would be years before I’d be trusted to do the same.

Because all bets were off when I was hungry and mom wasn’t around.

Anytime I cut bread or vegetables I’d pull out the huge knife that came free with a 3 room carpet install. It looked like one of those knives you see on late night infomercials. You know, the ones shown cutting through tin cans, tires and tennis shoes?

It had a slippery plastic handle that increased the chance of injury and excitement. Its menacing blade was ideal for cutting through meat or bone or small trees. It’s a miracle I avoided even one trip to the emergency room from using this beast.

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I thought about this time I spent with my mother as I cut a grapefruit for each of the kids tonight. I’m not as skilled as my mom was but the kids are forgiving.

As long as I sprinkle the right about of sugar on top.

The kids love everything about the grapefruit. They love how it makes the kitchen smell. They love how each section perfectly fills the spoon. And they love to squeeze the excess juice into a bowl to drink later.

In this culture of take-out and microwavable dinners there’s something satisfying about slicing a good old fashioned grapefruit.

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Checking for Counterfeit Fives

Luca set her hot chocolate on the counter. I did the same with my gum. I pulled out my wallet, found a crisp new $5 bill and handed it to the clerk. Instead of making change he looked at it for a few seconds over an open till. 

He reminded me of the forensic detectives on CSI. Did he think I’d given him a counterfeit fiver or was he looking for trace evidence?

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After staring at it for a few seconds he took a couple steps backward into better light. Then he held the bill at arms length towards the light rocking it from side to side.

The lady in back of me whispered, “Do they see a lot of fake fives?”

Maybe not but the clerk still wasn’t satisfied. He turned the bill over and inspected it for a few seconds. At this point I wondered if I was going to leave the store with my daughter’s hot chocolate and my Trident “Splash” Strawberry Lime gum. You know that kind that squirts when you bite it? Oh yes, it’s as good as it sounds.

A few more customers joined the line and, when I turned around, they all stared at me. I wanted to say, “I’m not a CRIMINAL!!”

If I were going to print up a sheet full of counterfeit bills, I wouldn’t risk prison time pumping out Lincolns.

No way. I wouldn’t waste ink on anything less than a Jackson.

Just as I was about to say, “Is there a problem?” the clerk gently placed the five dollar bill in the till and counted my change back to me.

Next time it’s Visa all the way.

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President Barack Obama

What a fantastic evening it has been. I listened to the election results on NPR radio on my drive home from work. By the time I arrived home things looked very good for Obama, but I had no idea how good.

Now we know how good.

Americans have voted to take this great country in a new direction. I love this man’s passion and conviction. I remain optimistic that our country can come together to fix the many problems facing us today.

McCain gave a gracious speech tonight. He loves this country. You could see it in his eyes. I hope Obama will keep his word and reach out to Republicans as he begins filling his cabinet positions.

I’ve never stayed up late to watch an election. I’ve never donated to a campaign before. I’ve never shed tears of joy when our new president walked on stage for the first time.

All that changed tonight. Godspeed, President Obama.

Of all the election coverage I’ve read and watched tonight, here is my favorite article and here are some of the highlights of the night.

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German Street Music

I was tired of the rejection. I was tired of the heat. Most of all, I was tired of wearing a cheap grey suit made of 99% polyester accompanied by a silk Paisley tie that had seen better days.

Such is life as a Mormon missionary.

On this day my companion and I walked down a narrow street made of cobblestone. I took my tri-folded daily planner out of my suit pocket and gazed down the schedule for the day. Not a single appointment in sight. This wasn’t uncommon. Most Germans didn’t want discuss religion let along listen to two young Americans tell them why they should join another church which outlaws beer.

The street was nearly empty and I could hear the cobblestones creak under my Rockports. My feet were tired and my companion was hungry, but we had another hour to burn before heading back to our apartment.

And then I heard it. Faint at first but unmistakable nonetheless. Those first few guitar chords that took me back to my family and friends. Then came the following lyric:

“Mother, do you think they’ll like this song?”

“Do you hear that?” I asked my companion as I tried to determine where the music was coming from. We found ourselves standing under a two story home that must have been at least 150 years old. As best we could tell someone was playing “The Wall” with their windows open as we passed by at just the right time.

He finally heard it, and we turned to each other and smiled as we listened to “Mother” from Pink Floyd.

It was a small slice of home that came at just the right moment. Not exactly the type of music missionaries normally listen to, but maybe that’s why it worked in this instance.

When the song came to an end, I backed off the sidewalk into the street and yelled “Danke schon!” before continuing down the street.

We still had 55 minutes to burn.

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Big Purple Chair

Some days my body doesn’t want to go to work but my mind convinces it otherwise. Occasionally it’s the other way around. But when both protest it’s best to take a day off instead of fighting a winless battle.

Yesterday was one of those days.

Luca and Lincoln had Halloween parties at school so I headed there to volunteer my skills which included sweeping the gym floor, tying shoes and and reminding a rambunctious little boy to refrain from putting a half licked Tootsie Roll Pop up his nose. 

I finished volunteering in Lincoln’s class just in time to help Luca’s class carve pumpkins. As I walked through the door to her classroom, several students approached me. One little girl said, “We’ve been expecting you”. I looked across the room and saw a table full of carved pumpkins as Luca grabbed my hand, leaned into my leg and said, “I thought you were going to help me carve my pumpkin”.

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I picked her up and held her tight as the tears streamed down her face and onto her new glasses. The teacher approached and apologized for writing down the wrong time. But it didn’t matter to Luca. She’d told everyone in her class that her dad was going to carve the best pumpkin ever. I asked her to show me the pumpkin she carved. It looked fantastic. She had taped purple strands of yarn along the top to give it hair. “I’ve never seen a pumpkin with purple eyebrows”, I told her in my lame attempt to entice a smile. 

That afternoon I picked her up from school and drove to our favorite hang out joint: Starbucks. Luca ordered a small hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and a plain bagel. She showed me how hot chocolate connoisseurs use three stirring straws instead of one. “Just make sure it’s not hot before you do this” she warned me.

We relaxed on a big purple chair with giant comfy cushions. Just the two of us. Side by side.

She told me bagels are her favorite food. Except for pizza. And potatoes with melted cheese.

I could listen to her talk for hours. I wish I could make time stand still. But moments like these come in unexpected short bursts. One can’t force them. That’s what makes them special.

I took the glasses off her face and wiped away the salty residue left over from the earlier tears. I placed them back on her cute face and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Her smile returned.

I’d like to take the credit for that.

But I believe it was the magic of the big purple chair.

Expectations

The valet was at my door before I could turn off the engine. A young man greeted me and held the door open while I shuffled into the cozy lobby of the hotel. The fireplace was ablaze and already warming the backs of patrons lined up next to it. The staff was friendly and immaculately attired.

Every detail felt authentic even down to retro rotary phones and wooden chess sets available for play.

From the first interaction my expectations for the experience were set high. And yet that’s a challenge because even the smallest miscue is magnified.

This hotel could be considered a Seattle landmark. It jettisons out over the blue waters of Elliot Bay. One can watch cruise and cargo ships docking at the nearby piers. Ferries cross paths delivering their passengers to this area’s many islands. Seattle’s skyline as well as Alki beach are viewable in the distance. It’s a peaceful setting and the main reason travelers are willing to pay extra to stay here.

So when I waited to be seated at the only onsite restaurant, I assumed it would be at one of the tables situated near a window. Although several such tables were available, the hostess offered a larger table for four, far from the windows, yet inches from the Continental Breakfast.

I could and should have asked to be seated at a smaller table closer to the windows.

The point is this: I should not have to ask.

I didn’t come for the $4 orange juice or the $9 oatmeal. If a table near the windows are available why not seat me at one?

There’s a lesson here I can take to my team that provides high end technical services to Microsoft: Every interaction you have with a customer creates their expectations of what’s to follow. I expect clean restrooms at Nordstrom. I would expect the service department at Lexus to be orderly. I’ve come to regard the friendly Starbucks barista as an extension of that $5 mint chocolate chip cream frappuccino.

I went back to the restaurant for lunch and was greeted by another hostess who happened to be my server. The dining area was crowded. As she grabbed a menu and asked me to follow, I thought to myself, “please don’t seat me at the same table”.

She didn’t. And I’ll return.

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