I’d love to say that all those hours are quality hours…that when I get home, the stress of the world melts away and I make the most of the opportunities. It is my goal every day, but I do not succeed every day. I try to reinforce the behaviors and qualities we tried to instill upon them early on. I try to make an impact in some small way, and to be an influencial figure in their lives. But 180 times a year, for hours on end, they are beyond our reach.  You want them to be comfortable and feel safe. You want them to take advantage of opportunities to be brave, and to feel empowered to be themselves. Last year, we made the most of volunteer opportunities in the classroom. I tried to go at least once every other month and Kendra went monthly. This year she has a standing Tuesday appointment and goes to eat lunch with them each Friday. At some point though, there has to be the trust that you’ve planted the right seeds and done all you could to help them take root. Eventually, as the weight of your influence wanes, you can only make yourself available, ask questions, and remain present. Even then, believing that you’ve done the right things, the hours can make you crazy.

We have been very blessed these past couple years to have found teachers that have been truly interested in not only the education, but personal development of our boys. I was impressed by a few of Logan’s middle school teachers who made a point of keeping in regular email and phone communication with us. Those early teen years can be treacherous, and having a pair of extra eyes and ears and additional voices of reason were very welcomed sources of support. I imagine it would be very easy for teachers at that grade level to remain detached from the nomadic student population. Instead, they took the time to care about our child as an individual and partner with us in his success. I appreciate them reaching out the way they did. It encouraged us to engage with his other teachers and maintain healthy lines of communication, and completely shifted the way I looked at parent/teacher interactions at the middle school level. It also helped reshape my expectations for involvement and communication at the high school level.

With Jaden and Dillon, the teacher interaction has been phenomenal. Each teacher, from pre-school through first grade, has opened her classroom to us and her life and even her heart to the boys. They have created environments that allowed Jaden and Dillon to flourish and have taken the time to know them as individuals. We’ve been fortunate enough to develop friendships with their former teachers and have enjoyed several social events with them ranging from birthday parties, to barbeques, to dive-in movies. I know it probably isn’t typical, but the time spent volunteering in their classroom and in dialogue after school really provided us the opportunity to get to know the teachers and also allowed them to get to know us. Those exchanges allowed us to be advocates for one another and reinforce behaviors or lessons from the classroom to home and vice versa. So it was with optimism that I looked forward to going for dinner last weekend at their first grade teacher’s house (yes, that one ).

We had a great time…we talked and swam and both she and her husband were gracious and accommodating. The thing that I took away from the evening was not that they were such a nice couple (which they were), or that she had a fully stocked playroom for kids of friends even though they have no children of their own (yet), or even that she followed through on a conversation she had with Jaden about us getting together which ultimately resulted in the dinner plans (as impressive as that was).  I watched the interactions and saw her interest in hearing what the boys had to say, and in being involved in their imaginary play. I was pleased by the fact that she did not stop with the items we provided about the boys in the infamous assignment, but took her own path toward learning more about each of them. She met them on their level, but did not interact as a peer. She seized a few opportunities to teach, but did not saturate the evening with lessons. She cares about kids. She WANTS to be doing what she is doing. Her passion and dedication shine through. But,what I left their home feeling that night was that those 1,170 hours might not be as far removed from us as I had originally thought… and that we had found another true ally in the education and development of our sons.

Thanks for coming along for the ride!

Kendra unloaded the boys and their Day 1 supplies as I unfolded the stroller and strapped Ethan in for the ride. It was not quite 8:15, but the heat was noticeable, and it was being compounded by the humidity from the previous night’s thunderstorms. I smiled pleasantly at the parade of vehicles that passed, trying not too look too pleased with myself for finding a parking space close to the crosswalk at the entrance to the school. After all, it was a stressful day for parents, and I didn’t need to come back to slashed tires or anything like that. We made our way past the backs of parents pressed closely to the fences of the Kindergarten Corral over to the grade-school playground, and as we turned the corner I felt as though I’d suddenly found ourselves on Main Street in Disneyland. The crowd was unbelievable. Jaden, who had to this point exhibited no sign of concern or apprehension, paused in his tracks and allowed his jaw to drop slightly in amazement before snapping to and beginning to fight his way through the masses over to the designated waiting area.

We struggled upstream like determined salmon and the heat began to become an active player in the growing chaos. Grandma attempted to capture the occasion through photography, but the heavy backpacks and mounting heat rendered the boys unwilling to stand and pose for very long. We finally made our way to the teacher and their classmates, and the boys happily set down their burdens. Jaden ran off to the swings to try to generate a breeze to cool himself down, and Dillon… where is Dillon?

The next 3-5 minutes (felt like 30 – 50) provided a decades worth of terror. The heat (now registering just north of 98 degrees plus the humidity at 8:30 am – you read that correctly), combined with the swarming crowd was having a dizzying effect on me. Sweat was beading down my forehead and into my eyes… I couldn’t focus on faces… Kendra and I were searching the crowd for faces, for clothing, hair, anything that would point him out for us. I circled the area while Kendra wove through the lines. There was no use calling out for him… the noise level was immense. Suddenly the bell. All the kids froze, and the noisy roar was immediately reduced to murmured conversations. I walked slowly trying to take advantage of the motionless herd…my mind racing with images of the press conference where we are flashing photos of Dillon and I am screaming threats into the cameras at whomever stole my son…my heart was racing and the heat was very intense… I could hardly breathe… Kendra and I exchanged glances…nothing…she was calm… she knew he had likely just wandered off to explore… I was approaching a meltdown…the second bell. Now all the children hurried into lines. The smaller children took cues from the older kids and sought out teachers waving signs with the teacher’s last name and class written on it… they lined up single file… the parents began to separate from the students… my vantage point improved…still no Dillon. I was about to be in full panic at this point…I searched the area for the principal to alert her of the situation… then casually from the far end of the playground strolled Dillon. I resisted the urge to sprint to him and ask if he was ok and find out what happened, where he had been… I walked toward him and he toward me…”I can’t find my backpack”. “Oh…it’s over here buddy”. He was unaffected… I had to let go of my hysteria so he wouldn’t be alarmed. I took him by the hand over to his classmates. He eagerly strapped his backpack on and soldiered along with his group toward the flagpole for the morning pledge.

The school put together what would have been a beautiful harmony concert of God Bless America as part of the morning activities… had it been performed indoors under the air conditioning of the cafeteria or even outdoors in a sub 90 degree morning, I think it would have been more widely appreciated. As it was, the children waited patiently through all the pomp and circumstance… sweaty little pink faces stared blankly as they marched obediently from place to place. Sweat dripped down tiny faces; new sundresses and polo shirts were soaked with kiddy sweat and wrinkled and gathered from restless hands clutching at collars for relief from the heat. Little hairdos fell flat, and pigtails and ponytails began to unravel. Moms and dads escorted our little ones down the hallways and into the classrooms. The AC provided little relief for those brief moments in the building. Kendra maintained her composure admirably as she bid farewell to her little men… her daily companions for all but a couple months of their six years of life. I was proud of her bravery (even if she was the last parent to leave the room). I stood in the hallway with Ethan in his stroller, both of us trying to recover, and I exchanged shrugs and curses of the heat with the other exiting parents. I looked in and saw Jaden look down at a piece of paper that had been handed out to the class. He smiled and looked over to his classmate and said, “1st grade is going to be easy!”

Kendra left the room with a sad smile on her face… she knew her guys would be just fine… she was just a little unsure if she would.

My first few drafts of the letters were…well they were rude. I was frustrated by my perception of the assignment and thought of several clever ways to tell this devious woman what I thought of her trickery and suggestions as to what I thought she could do with her assignment. As I thought it through and reason slowly settled in to push emotion out, and the barbs and jabs slid from overt, to thinly veiled, to non-existent, I began to focus on a section of the assignment I had overlooked. The instructions recommended sharing the contents of these letters with the children, so they could be aware of our views of them and be encouraged to know these talents were evident in them. I examined that passage for evidence of traps or double meaning… anything I could use to re-weave my tapestry of conspiracy… but alas. So I thought about the essence of Jaden and of Dillon, and what stood out to me as a key fiber of who they are that would draw her in to get to know them better and to lead her down a path that would reveal their other talents and abilities. I wanted something that, if perpetuated into some self-fulfilling prophesy cycle, would not begin or end in bias or stereotype and would not allow them to be easily labeled for comparison. It needed to be simple and honest… it needed to describe their individual fire. I contemplated each of them for a few moments, and I had my approach. I created the letters and received Kendra’s stamp of approval…pondered them momentarily… then hit “send” on the email to their suddenly less demonic 1st grade teacher.

I shared the contents of the letters with each of the boys separately in the morning before school. I wanted them to leave the house that day with a keen awareness of what they had to offer and what we saw in them that burned bright. Each, being an individual, handled the message in a way that was specifically befitting of himself. I will probably never know what impact the content or discussion had for either of them… I just hope it fanned the flames a little… enough for the fire to burn just a little brighter as they stepped into this new unknown… enough to light any corners of doubt that may have existed about who each is to us, and what we believe about them individually…enough to withstand the darkness of any box that might get used as confinement and burn those borders down to ash…or at least enough to get them through the day…then I can tell them again tomorrow.

Kiss your kids!

Thanks for coming along for the ride.

Yes… Little Dillon has emerged as the young Lothario at Little Einstien’s Preschool. On the trampoline the other day he and Jaden told me about a “friendship” they had developed with these two girls in their class. Jaden explained that he and his “best friend” had had been spending their play time together.  Recently, she had played with him during snack time, but ignored him on the playground. He decided that the next day at school he would refuse to play with her during the day as well. Jaden broke down his elaborate plan for exactly how it would all go down when they got outside to play. He ended the day dancing around with a different little girl… Dillon said that his “best friend” told him “I like you” during snack and told Kendra that his friendship with his particular girl is “so into it”; so into it? Seriously? Where does this even come from? I am thinking the Little Einstein school might just give way to the Little Celibate Monk Academy if this trend continues. The birthday party is in a couple weeks, and I am already anticipating the drama. I just know I am going to have to run interference with “Into It”‘s dad, provided he survived the coronary.

I am somewhere between slightly amused and somewhat concerned with this development. I mean, Logan broke news of a girlfriend earlier this year, and even confessed to having had one for a short time while we were in Lawrence. I had been anticipating hearing this from him, so my initial reaction was more of “OK, that makes sense… we can monitor this from here”. I knew he was coming of that age and that this would be the next step in his development and we could manage that. Jaden and Dillon will be five in  a couple weeks… this is just a touch earlier than I had anticipated dealing with this. I mean, this is completely out of left field. As recently as a few months ago these two would only answer to the names “Yoda” and ”Only Kenobi”; All of a sudden they are dancing with the girls in the classroom, planning mind game retaliations, and kissing girls goodbye.

As much as I struggle with this, I am SO much happier to be on this side of the line than to have to be the daddy of that little girl who comes home and tells him that she kissed her boyfriend goodbye at preschool that day. I can’t imagine what my reaction to that would be…Come to think of it, yes I can… I may need to have the boys stay home sick a few days… just to give  ”Into It” and her dad some time to work this out on their end, and give me some time to work on that application for the Little Celibate Monk Academy… maybe I can get a deal on the tuition with the two of them… maybe get an advanced placement for Ethan…

Thanks for coming along for the ride; Kiss your kids!