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Sam Boyle  |  by www.frozennorth.org. All rights reserved. 3.01 | 16:13

trip away from home. He's spending a week with his (childless) aunt and uncle

It was my job to ferry him to the airport, while deal, since the air conditioning at the airport is far more powerful than the stuff at home). It turns out that in the post-9/11 world, one of the few minors.



So I got to partake of that lost ritual of an earlier age, saying goodbye to a loved one at the gate. When they began preboarding, I handed Scooter off to an airline employee who escorted him onto the plane and to his seat.

I jetway, his backpack full of reading material, talking to the matronly gate agent.



We know that if we do our job as parents and all goes well, there will come a time when we have to say goodbye. We can only hope that when that time comes, our children have the wisdom and skills to make their own way in the world, and that they will return at their own time and on their own terms.

Until then, we practice for that day with little goodbyes.

Like the first day of school, the first trip alone down the jetway is a little goodbye. Scooter may be only seven, but he was very ready to take this step.

I'm not so sure I can say the same for myself.

week (plus one weekend) of the Great American Road Trip to Yellowstone and back, with one-day layovers in the Black Hills each way. We stayed in a nice ski resort in Jackson Hole, a place which would have been unaffordable in February, but which was quite the value in early June.

When we got back Sunday evening, we asked the was.



Was it the tour of Jewel Cave? Seeing the Crazy Horse monument? The hotel with the big water slide?



Was it seeing the geysers and mud-pots of Yellowstone? Or the Grand Tetons?

Was it riding the tram to the top of a 10,000-foot mountain?

White-water rafting? Seeing the re-creation of a gunfight?

Was it the Reptile Gardens around the block a few hundred times and save a ton of money.

of joy, happiness, innocence...

.

very special laugh, a sort of hyperkinetic Beavis-and-Butthead laugh crossed good.

It might be some toy meeting an undeserved fate, carefully arranged sewing supplies strewn across the floor, mud footprints on the carpet, or some bit of mischief I haven't yet seen.

The laugh reaction is always the same: "Where's the neighbor's cat?"


Drew's mom is a friend of a friend. Drew is a 17-month old who suffered a stroke shortly after birth, and now requires expensive therapy to have anything close to a normal life.

I have some idea what they must be going through. One of our twins had some (fortunately minor and temporary) breathing problems shortly after birth, and had to have being able to bring one home.

But where my son's lungs just needed a few more days to develop and he's now a bright, active, and healthy preschooler, Drew's problems will be with him the rest of his life.

Even though there was probably nothing anybody could have done to prevent it, that burst blood vessel in his brain will forever shape the lives of his parents.

Becoming a parent is not the same as having a child. When you become a parent, you commit yourself to do whatever is in your power to protect and care for your child.

Some people who pledge, and some people who never bear biological children are still parents just the same.

Most parents never have to test that commitment, though every parent knows that someday he or she could fortunate. But they're willing to do what it takes to make their son's life a little better.

And so far, they've not been asked to give up anything more than

This blog entry is just for the grandparents. end of the third sentence. Grandparents, though, being what they are, will soak up the entire thing.

yesterday with his first grade teacher. Last year in kindergarden we had a lot of, um, issues to deal with.

Things like hitting other kids, fighting on the playground, not listening to the teachers, that sort of thing.

So we approached this year's conference with some trepidation. In addition to Scooter's first grade teacher, his music teacher, PE teacher, and the principal (or "Head of School" at Blake likes to title the said after we all sat down was, "Well, I really haven't seen any of the problems I was warned about. Scooter gets along great with the other kids, they all look up to him, and he's only had one incident since school read anything I put in front of him.

I haven't figured out his reading level yet, but he's at least a second grade classroom activities, he's very focused. He'll usually finish early, and ask to all the math skills we expect of a first grader. He had no trouble with any of the tasks I gave him.

"

And: "When we have self-directed learning time, Scooter likes to write. That's very unusual for boys in first grade, and he's a great example for his classmates. He says he's working on a book, and here's the table of contents he help his classmates.

Sometimes when he sees one of them misspell a word, he'll offer a correction. Usually he whispers so as to not embarrass the other child. This is sometimes annoying to the other kids, since they want to figure it out for themselves.

"

And so it went for the first 25 minutes of our half-hour conference. Page after page of class projects and assignments, each completed well above the expected standards and year.

Finally, in the last few minutes of the conference, the music teacher spoke up.

"I'm a little concerned," he offered, "because Scooter tends to be disruptive in music class."

"And he likes to yell a lot in gym," added the PE gym and is sometimes disruptive in class? If that's the worst thing his teachers are concerned about this year, then we've got a lot to be proud nodded solemnly and agreed that this disruptive behavior would have to stop, and control.



I waited until we were in the parking lot before doing my victory dance.

Think you've got your hands full as a mother? Mom score!

Its easy and fun! Go for the high for every child. For purposes of calculating your Mom score, adopted children count the same as months.



c. Add 50 points for every child in diapers.

d.

Add 30 points for every boy under the age of five.

e. Add 18.



f. If you are actively gestating, add 50 points for every baby in-utero (i.e.

if you are carrying twins, add 100 points). If you are in labor at this moment, add 500 points for each baby you Subtract 100 points for every child not living with you (i.e.

grown children, children at boarding school, children in juvenile detention, etc.)

h. Add 200 points for every "special needs" child.

For purposes of calculating your Mom score, a "special needs" child is one who Add 30 points for every ADD child.

j. If you work full-time, add 100 points.

If you work part-time, add 50 points. If you work more than one job, or a job that requires lots of travel or extra hours, add 200 points.

k.

If you have full-time in-home childcare (i.e. nanny, grandparent, etc.

) subtract 100 points.

m. Add 10 points for each child who is into a dangerous sport or activity (hockey, skydiving, rock climbing, and unattached, multiply your score by 2.

0.

b. If you are married, but your husband is a worthless slob who never helps with the kids, multiply your score by 1.

5. If you are married but your marriage is doomed, multiply your score by 1.75.



c. If you are unmarried, but in a stable, long-term committed relationship, multiply your score by 1.1 (not being judgmental, but being married gives you specific legal and financial aunt.



e. If you have twins, triplets, or higher order multiples, multiply your score by the number of kids you carried in your womb simultaneously. If you have more than one set of multiples, repeat this step for each set of multiples (for example: if you have twins, multiply your score by 2.

0. If you have a set of twins set of triplets, multiply your score by 2.0 and then by grandparents in town who are able and willing to babysit, multiply your score by children has shouted "I hate you Mommy!

" in the past 48 hours, multiply your score by 1.1.

h.

If you have had a solid week away from all your children in the past three months (i.e. vacation without the kids, extended business trip, etc.

) multiply your score by 0.75.

i.

If you have ever had to choose between buying food or paying for a doctor's visit, multiply your score by than your husband/partner, multiply your score by 0.25 since you're obviously not too stressed out or tired.

k.

If you have visited Chuck E. Cheese in the past week, multiply your score by 1.1.

If it was for a birthday party, multiply your score by base score and factored in all your multipliers, the number you're left with is and neighbors to find out who's got the most hectic, stressed-out home life. Mom song, just as soon as I figure out what the words are.

Christmas Eve.

This tradition has been going on as long as we've been living before bedtime. After several fruitless minutes of searching, She Who Puts Up With Me noticed that all the luminaria in front of our house were dark. "Hadn't those all been lit?

" she asked.

The light (metaphorically) went on. I threw on my jacket and shoes and charged outside.

Sure enough, Scooter was halfway down the block, systematically doorbells for each of the neighbors whose candles he'd blown out, and apologize. One neighbor wasn't home, so Scooter will be going back today.

This morning, Scooter woke up to find coal (charcoal briquettes) in his stocking.

Of course he knew why.

But the frustrating thing was that the coal didn't phase him in the slightest. Even after I explained that he could get actual presents instead of coal once he finished his restitution, he merrily continued playing with the black, sooty stuff.

I finally had to take it away from him, since he was making such a morning, I made sure to give him a big hug and tell him "Mommy and daddy both love you very much."


"I love mommy, too, and I like you, frown. "You mean you don't love me, too?

"

"I like you, too. I just like mommy more."

And with that, he was out Filed under "Parenting" not "Politics" because, well, that's where I felt it is no doubt in my mind that the No Child Left Behind act, as it stands today, is a terrible piece of legislation.

It mandates mathematically impossible levels of performance from schools, based on achievement tests which focus only on the 3 R's, and imposes draconian levels of punishment against public schools which schools will fail to meet NCLB's mandates, and face penalties. It is simply pass. But in an effort to stave off the inevitable, public schools are likely to cut all programs not covered by achievement tests, including things like music, drama, "gifted" programs, and advanced-placement programs.

Those things cost money, and there's no incentive under NCLB to cultivate the best students, just keep the worst ones from failing.

NCLB-mandated voucher system, the private schools receiving vouchers would have to meet the requirements of NCLB. But that's a different NCLB, however, is not that it sets impossible goals on public schools.

And I public education: more likely, nobody really understood the law before it passed (not surprising, given that it is 670 pages with public schools is that they lack incentives to improve, and have no way of measuring success. The entire law is built around measuring success and not an unreasonable way to improve many things, especially in the business world that many in the Bush administration come from business, it isn't surprising motivation is not lacking: teaching is such an underpaid, demanding job, and strong personal reasons. And those internal motivators are far more powerful than money.

[Aside: Students, on the other hand, often lack motivation. Sadly, even though they're the ones being tested under NCLB, they're not the ones who perform.]

We also have myriad ways of measuring the relative and absolute performance of schools: graduation rates, college entry rates, advanced placement scores, SAT scores, dropout rates, and so forth.

Nor has there ever been any problem getting this performance information into the hands of parents. If you doubt me, call any real estate fundamentally, NCLB attempts to fix public education by adding measurement and Schools?
If we already know how well the schools are doing, and public school teachers have always been (for the most part) highly motivated, then what ails our educational on this topic, but I believe it comes down to two things: parental involvement, predictors of educational success is parental involvement.

Simply put, the more time and attention parents put into educating their children, the more likely the children are to succeed. This is true at both the individual level from each other, making sure parents understand the importance of their roles, and basic stuff like making sure everyone has sufficient supplies, textbooks, Here?
There's no doubt in my mind that NCLB won't survive in its present form.

Once punitive measures start kicking in, the political winds to reform the law will be like Ivan, Jeanne, Frances, and Charley all rolled into one. After all, parents vote--and there's a lot of expect it will be a messy few years, with a lot of collateral damage inflicted situation.

What we really need is an Every Parent Involved Act, to educate and motivate parents to be involved in active.

Then we need a No School Left Behind Act, which will make sure the attacking the real problems in our public schools.


The Mother's Curse is simple, but powerful. I've my Mother's Curse against me.

I was a very difficult child to raise: never particularly obedient, too smart for my own good (sometimes literally), always challenging authority. My parents went through a decade of frustration, expense, and tears on my out OK (eventually). When we were expecting our first child, my mother could disappointed.

Scooter is everything I was as a child, and I expect it will be a appreciate, though, was just how powerful the Mother's Curse is, and how many generations it spans. It hadn't occurred to me before, but last week I asked my you?"

I think the question caught her off guard.

Mom's eyes widened in surprise, and she laughed as she realized she was trapped: "Yes, you were, and your grandmother never got tired of reminding me."

And thinking back on some of the family stories, my mother was most likely the fulfillment of my curse against my grandmother. I come from a long and distinguished line of out fine.

My grandmother, as a single mother in the 1950s and early 1960s, My mother turned towards public service, with 12 years in the state stint on the Twin Cities' Met Council. I hope that I enjoy equal success in my likewise, however difficult their first ten years may be.

than Daddy convincing the kids to serve Mom breakfast in bed?

When the oldest is five, and the twins are two, there's a limit to what the kids can do. Besides, Scooter (the five-year-old) was sleeping in, just like mom. With the twins pacified via a DVD of Bugs Bunny cartoons, I assembled a breakfast of fruit crepes, then woke Scooter to help deliver it.



We carried the tray upstairs to a delighted and not-very-surprised She Who Puts Up With My Kids. [Note to longtime readers: I am referring to her this way just for today, and you shall soon see why.] [Note to not-so-longtime readers: The kids are actually ours, except when they're misbehaving, at which time they're wheels came off the metaphorical bus.

and the kids. When I got to the kitchen, however, it was toddlers.

In the middle of the yellow, babbling about "cleaning up the mess," in that special way of two-year-olds.

completely covered every surface. A 16-ounce plastic paint container lay broken and empty at ground zero.

Every so often as a parent, there are times when the sheer enormity of the magnitude of "No!

" had little effect on either the paint or the twins, who looked as though they would be next on the list for liver transplants. After that, would have to wait, for everyone except She Who Puts Up With My all around the house. Then the twins went upstairs.

She Who Puts Up With My Kids had a very short Mother's Day Breakfast, as I dumped the kids on her so I kids' paint, which comes off with soap and water. After twenty minutes, most of the yellow paint was off the kitchen and down the drain, though it did leave a discovered, is very effective at removing the residual stain from the kitchen floor. When She came downstairs, she asked if I had been using turpentine.

Perhaps it is because we get to visit actual pine trees with some regularity, apparent liver disease was cured with a bath. The bathwater looked noticeably yellow, too, by the time we were done.

The happy ending is that we were the grandparents.

Even the yellowest cloud has a silver lining.

Being a Dad is hard work, and nobody ever knows how to do it at first. In the hopes of helping my many friends who can now call years of experience.


1. Any action repeated three times is are half angel and half devil. The angel they inherit from Mom, and the devil from Dad.

Disputing this rule will only get you in trouble with ballistically launching any substance produced by the human body. The possible exception is earwax, only because I haven't seen it than ever. Be sure to mention this.



5. After becoming a Dad, you will discover entire segments of the economy which you had no idea existed.

6.

Even when you think your child can't possibly become any cuter, s/he your baby's first words. Six months later, you will wish s/he would shut up for your baby's first steps. Six months later, you wish s/he would stay say will be used against you.

In public. At the worst possible moment.

11.

Children are much better at else.

12. As long as your child is growing, playing, and learning, everything else is secondary (forget Harvard for yesterday afternoon, and a hula-hoop he was tossing around the gym managed to knock a trophy off a high shelf.

The trophy broke, and our attempts to fix it

"When there's an accident, and it's your fault," I explained, "you need to do something to make it up and say you're sorry. What that will do. That was a pretty special trophy you broke, so I think you need are.

"

"I could give them all my money." money isn't good enough," I suggested. Besides, the dollar or two (mostly preschool class and the staff.

He did most of the work (well, at least 51%), and we divided the cookies into two bags. Scooter wrote two apology notes on giant sheets of construction paper, and I added a translation of his preschool two bags in. Scooter gave one to the receptionist for the staff, and the other to his morning teacher.

Neither had yet heard about the late afternoon incident, so he explained that he had accidentally broken the trophy, and the cookies were his way of saying he was sorry. He also explained in great detail that some lessons are tastier than others.

twins.

We had all the relatives (and I truly mean the relatives) over, served a big dinner, and had presents galore. Only one thing was missing: the twins.


Perhaps it was the late hour, with the festivities starting at 5 PM, or perhaps it was the disappointment at coming home after an afternoon spent at the Zoo with Grandma and Grandpa.

Whatever the reason, the twins decided that they were going to be grumpy, and no amount of reading stories, games by Grandpa, or offers of succulent cake could change their minds.

So, while the rest of us morosely in front of the tube watching a Bob the Builder video, the only them.

Later, they did decide to join the rest of the party, and enjoyed ripping wrapping paper to shreds.

A small amount of cake was also consumed, though we'll be working on leftovers for the the party was "Two-Two Twain," but we decided that we should've gone with watching your own child being sick and miserable. Thankfully, we live in an age when these childhood illnesses are rarely life-threatening, but our primitive didn't make it to their tenth birthday.

since last Thursday, when he was sent home early from preschool with a temperature.

Since then, he's been up and down: better on Friday and Saturday, but worse on Sunday and today.

We kept both of the twins home on Friday, and they both slept for 18 hours straight (1 PM Friday to 7 AM Saturday). On Friday, all but three kids in the twins' preschool class were out sick, out of about 15.

Skeeter, as you may recall, was home sick on Tuesday, but by Saturday morning seemed to have made as close to a full recovery as any child makes this time of year. Scamper still had a cough on Saturday, but seemed to be doing Scamper was still under the weather. When we put the twins down for their naps at 1 PM, Skeeter was up again by 4, but Scamper slept all the way through to this morning.

As he slept, we noted that his breathing was fast and shallow, before, with Scooter, our older son (now 5). Scooter's first few winters were miserable, with several bad respiratory infections, and a regimen of albuterol and steroids for several months. Since then, Scooter's been healthy as a horse, coughing, congested, and miserable this morning, there wasn't much question that he'd be going to the doc.

We were able to get an 8:40 appointment (they keep confirmed what we'd already known, that he's got a bad respiratory infection, and an ear infection to boot. Prescription: antibiotics (for the ear infection), albuterol (to keep his airways open), lots of fluids, and lots of rest. In a few days, he'll be back up and running us ragged again.

bring one of the twins home from preschool early because of illness. I suppose every childhood illness down to the nanosecond.

This particular bug seems to last about 24 hours, comes with a mid-grade fever and one incident of upchucking.

The incubation is 48 hours. Skeeter had it on Tuesday, and was better by Wednesday afternoon. afternoon home with the kid isn't totally an afternoon away from work anymore.

But it also means a lot of time to update the blog entries. Scamper, meanwhile, has watched the same Bob the Builder video three times so far today. Poor kid.

Saturday. We learned our lesson from prior years, and dispensed with the structured activities, competitive games, and oh yes, Chuck E.
Instead, we had Scooter and several of his friends over for two hours of five-year-old mayhem.

A few balloons provided a solid 45 minutes of entertainment, as well as Scooter showing off his (small) collection of computer games. The one planned activity lasted perhaps five watching Scooter play host, making sure all his friends had fun, and nobody got left out. He also thanked everyone for the presents, without being asked "Terrible Twos" were, this is proof positive that children do, in fact, as part of the admissions process.

This is the same school I went to from 8th grade on, and the experience was a little surreal.

100) are now working there, two as elementary-level teachers, and one as the assistant head of the middle school.

In addition, many of my teachers are still there.



This is sounding a lot like one of those "English Boys School" novels, where Little Tommy is the eighth generation of Windmyre-Smythes to go to the same school, and everyone still remembers Tommy's dad and grandad as boys, and there's a portrait of Tommy's I was the first in our family to go to Blake, my younger brother and sister both followed me. In part, this is what drove my sister's college selection process: she wanted to go "anywhere they've never heard of our family." I guess my leaving, someone I knew from my investment banking days ran up and said hi.

He of time, and quit about the same time I did.

"So what are you doing here?" I asked, "Didn't both of your kids graduate he told me.

"Daddy, I want a new toy
"No, you can't get one today. Besides, I need to go do the grocery shopping."

"But I can come with you, and I'll bring my been keeping a piggy bank for a couple years, and it had an impressive collection of pennies, nickels, dimes, and even the occasional quarter.

But I hadn't realized he had made the connection between the coins in his bank, and the little piece of plastic he's seen me use to pay for stuff at Target. On the other hand, he is a bright kid, and he often picks up on things long before we can't come along with me," since one of my stops was to order his birthday cake, I made the weekly trek to the local SuperTarget, and after the groceries were in the cart, I headed for the toy section to try to find something for a couple bucks or less. Nothing.



In fact, the 10 die-cast airplanes. On clearance, $7.50 marked down from $15.

00. Not a bad deal even at the original price, and very attractive at the price. On the other hand, there was no way Scooter had anywhere near $7.

50 in his piggy while I check out and get the groceries loaded, why don't you have Scooter count out his money, and suggest little chores he can do to earn the difference. Maybe pick up the TV room for a buck, that kind of go along?

I arrived at home to find Scooter madly at work cleaning up the TV room, and he proudly announced that, once he was done, he would get fifty cents.

I showed him the box with the aircraft carrier in it, and explained that, as soon as he could pay me $7.50, he could have it. Scooters eyes got wide, and he raced back to the TV room, She Who Puts Up With Me.



"He's got almost seven bucks in his piggy bank," She explained. One thing I've always Scooter had the toy, and fifty-four cents left over to boot.

Sales tax will be a lesson for This morning, Scooter eagerly offered to set the table for breakfast for another fifty cents.

How could I decline an offer like that? Especially since it kept him from torturing his brothers while I finished making breakfast.

longer a Big Deal.

Christmas is now a Really Big Deal.

the tree. Scooter, of course, had to inspect everything.

Then came the the Christmas spirit. Everyone got one present from Mommy and Daddy, but only Scooter is old enough now to both expect more, and be able to read the tags.

I explained to Scooter that he would also be getting presents from Grandmas and Grandpas and Aunts and Uncles, but to no avail.

We also explained that, with his birthday only two weeks after Christmas, he'd be getting even more presents then. Still he was a child who needs any more toys. But when the big shiny packages are all under the tree, there's nothing quite like the satisfaction of knowing that they're all for you.



On the other hand, lest you think that we're raising a totally materialistic child...

.Scooter has also preschool. We're also hoping to get him to write his own Thank-You notes this year, now that he can write (and it is new enough that he's still excited by the present until the Thank-You note is written.

Toots," referring to Toots the Train.

Wow! We've gone from wordlike sounds to actual words, and now three-word protosentences.

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Keywords: Every Child, Chuck e, Left Behind, Left Behind Act, Every Parent, Big Deal, Behind Act
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