A New Place to Cast

I was perusing my Facebook feed earlier today and came across a blog post from a Facebook friend. He’s your typical Facebook friend, you meet them once, connect on Facebook, and that’s the extent of your friendship. Regardless, his blog post stuck with me. He’s a journalist by trade so maybe his way with words intrigued me, especially because I coble together posts like a writer would a balance sheet (I am an accountant, so numbers are more my thing). The title was Life Lessons from a Great Blue Heron. It drew me in; I’m an outdoorsman, this title spoke to me. The context fit quite well with some recent experiences, particularly the second lesson he brings up “don’t let past successes keep you from trying to learn.”

His post was about a fishing trip he had recently taken. I immediately applied his lesson to a fishing trip I had recently been on as well. I was on my annual bass fishing trip with a good friend of mine and we had fished “our spot” all weekend. We covered every inch of the specific structure we like to fish over the course of 8 hours on the lake (not consecutive, we took a couple brakes throughout the day). It has always produced a significant number of bass for us and always one or two big ones for that lake. By the end of the day Saturday we had landed 8 fish, 7 large mouth (one good sized one) and 1 northern. We were happy, not ecstatic, but pleased with the day. We hit the same spot early the next morning. Three hours produced two fish and they were early. We needed a change. We talked about it for a little while, contemplated where we’d seen other boats, fish jumping, eagles diving, anything to come up with a new place. We were really stuck in our heads that the structure we’ve always fished was the best place to be. We decided to take a slow pass over some places we’d seen fish jumping. They didn’t hold the structure we were hoping for so we kept looking. We settled on a nice drop off with a solid weed line in the shallows, a lot of weeds. Not the area we would normally fish, actually we’d never seen anyone fishing this area. Within an hour my friend had landed two bass, one of them the biggest of the weekend.

After realizing I’d lived his lesson before reading it, I began thinking of other recent experiences that fall within that realm. Not surprisingly they’re Layton related, two of them this week. We’ve been dealing with some separation anxiety issues with Layton around bedtime. This is a new thing, within the last few weeks. Normally bedtime is good, we have a solid routine, but he’s been waking up in the middle of the nights screaming for momma and daddy. It’s not night terrors, we’ve talked with the doctor and explained the circumstances. Separation anxiety is quite common for his age. This past Monday night I was tired of the middle of the night wake-up call so I decided to talk with him before bedtime; we would read books, I would lay him down in bed, and then I would go to bed in my room across the hall. This did not sit well with him and we ended up making a routine bedtime last 2 hours. Mental note, sometimes the path to success should be repeated, not changed. We’ll stick with the normal bedtime routine and I won’t have anymore talks with him about sleeping through the night; at least not at this point in his life.

Fast forward two nights to Wednesday night/Thursday morning and we’re up at 2 am again. When it comes to the middle of the night wake-up call I’m not a pleasant person, my wife is the consoler and I’m the “GET BACK IN YOUR BED, LAY DOWN, and GO TO SLEEP!” person. Neither of our efforts had been fruitful over the past week and we’d resorted to letting him cry himself back to sleep. Wednesday night, for whatever reason, I changed my tactic. Aggression was not the historical answer, but it’s what I knew; however, I became the consoler early Thursday morning. He was crying in his bed, I came in and sat on the floor and gave him a hug. I talked to him for about 15 minutes, then calmly, yet directly, explained what I was going to do. He nodded in understanding. I left his room and went back to bed. It took about 20 minutes but he was back asleep without any further tears or cries for momma and daddy. I can’t tell you this is going to work again for me with future encounters, but I was happy with the outcome and very glad I changed my approach.

Whether you’re fishing, stuck wondering what to do next in life, or trying to get your child to sleep, consider casting someplace new; you won’t know what the outcome will be if you stick to the same old structure.

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Transient Synovitis…

Big words, that was my first thought.  Then I thought about what transient meant.  My limited knowledge of the word makes me think of a person down on their luck, Aladdin popped into my mind.  Transient also means temporary, short-term, brief, etc.  So you’re probably wondering why I’ve transitioned from fatherhood stories to dictionary.

This past Friday, July 27th, Layton woke up as usual around 4 am screaming for momma and daddy (usual for the past two weeks anyway, he’s normally an awesome sleeper).  He climbed out of bed and walked to the door and opened it.  I was at his room by this point.  He was consoled, we read a few books, he screamed every time we put him back into his bed, and he was finally back asleep 45 minutes later.

I woke him up for daycare around 7:30 and he was angelically pleasant, clearly he forgot about the 4 am wake up call.  I got him ready and asked him to stand up to pull his shorts up and his left leg immediately collapsed.  My initial reaction was to try again, so we did and he collapsed again.  He never cried, just said it hurt.  So I went through the process of feeling his leg asking him to tell me where it hurt, from the hip down to his toes, nothing.

(Sidebar: Externally, calm dad, let’s work through all the steps to rule things out.  Internally I was freaking out.  My child can’t stand up, his leg is collapsing under him, what if he never walks again, AHHHH, THE WORLD IS ENDING!!!!)

Everything was fine.  So I wiggled his toes, moved his foot, bent his knee, nothing.  So I carried him to the kitchen and got some food for him.  Asked him to stand, he did for a short period holding onto something then his left leg gave out again.  Ok, something is clearly wrong here.  I called my wife, who was at work by this point, about a dozen times.  She gets us in at the doctor at 10 that morning, excellent.  He’s happily moving around his train table holding on using it as a stabilizer.  The kid is in great spirits given he can’t really walk.  He goes to what I’ll call his “pooping corner” and squats down without issue, sitting there not holding onto anything, then stands back up using the train table for assistance.  I’m baffled.  He was able to squat no problem, bent his knee, ankle, hip, filled his diaper, but can’t walk or stand up without assistance.  He’s sitting cross legged no issues.  I’m at a loss.  From everything I understand he should have been fine.  I started thinking about what he did the night before, did he get injured during his 4 am tantrum?  My mom watched him the evening before, did something happen there?  Nothing came to mind.

By the time we got to the doctor he’s able to limp a good 10 feet before going down, must be loosening up as the day goes on.  So the doctor does the full range of motion testing, nothing surprising there.  No wincing, crying, ouches, he’s fine.  But not really.  He still can’t walk.  Ask him to push his foot onto your hand, no big deal.  Then doc throws out the big words, “it’s likely Transient Synovitis”.  Huh?  It’s fairly common in children 3-8 years of age, particularly boys.  It’s the temporary inflammation of the hip joint or in some cases the knee.  The cause is unknown but usually follows a viral infection.  Layton hasn’t been sick (at least not that we’ve known of) for the entire summer.  So I’m still baffled.  Doc said he’s seen it last up to 6 weeks, but it usually clears up in 1-3 weeks.  Now, it’s 2 days later and we’re in pretty good shape.  Layton isn’t running yet but is walking close to without a limp.  Hopefully this progress continues and we have our independent, spirited little boy back in no time.

My initial feeling about this situation was to say suck it up and deal with it, the dad mentality you could say.  Several weeks ago we had a little incident in his inflatable pool where the dog bumped into Layton while Layton was climbing in and he rolled over his wrist.  He cried for a while, wouldn’t let anyone touch or move it; we thought it was broken.  So we got him out of his swimsuit, dried off, and into normal clothes and hopped in the truck.  The emergency room was the destination, but we ended up at my mom’s house.  On the way he started asking for the numerous rubber ducks that occupy a few cup holders in my truck.  As he’s accumulating them he transfers them to the “injured” hand/wrist.  The next thing you know he has full range of motion in his wrist like nothing was ever wrong.  We got to grandma’s and he goes right to the toy box and that was the end of the “injured” wrist.  So I was a bit jaded when the knee “injury” came up.  I’m glad I didn’t just push the issue and send him to daycare.  My gut said “call your wife and talk it through”.  In this situation, I’m glad I trusted my alimentary canal.

What’s in a name?

Pints with Pops.

It can mean several things.  I initially chose the name because it seemed attractive to the fatherly audience and would have some appeal to get pops to show up once a month to maybe talk about fatherhood stuff.  Backtrack… I chose the name, my wife came up with the name.  She was actually instrumental in Pints with Pops becoming a thing.  She was the first person I talked in detail with this about and was 100% supportive even though it meant another night I would be away for a few hours.  Now that credit has been properly given, back to the name.

Pints with Pops.  Appealing to the target audience, gets the point across that we’d have a pint of something (likely a beer), and the likely attendees would be fathers.  “With”, this is the key word.  I’ve seen “Pints for Pops”.  This is not “for”, it is with.  Why with?  it implies togetherness rather than entitlement.  This is a group where we come together and share experiences; it’s intended to be supportive and encouraging, not come and receive something.  Pops, synonymous with father or dad.  That was the initial thought process that got me to “Pints with Pops”.

I did receive some push back on the name.  It does imply the consumption of alcohol.  Spouses don’t necessarily think of going out for a beer is the proper way to spend a couple hours away from your family even if it is talking about fatherhood stuff.  Another tough sell, we actually talk about fatherhood stuff.  We do, it’s legit.  Nothing preachy, just experiences.  What did your kid do this week?  Mine ate sand…

In the end I decided the name was general enough it could withstand the criticisms.  I gave coupons for free pints of ice cream at our one year anniversary gathering.  Not all pints are beer.  It’s simply a unit of measure.

That leads me to the deeper meaning of the name, which I didn’t really stumble upon until several gatherings in.  “Pints” ends up being a synonym for everything Pints with Pops is.  Think of the British phrase “Let’s grab a pint”.  Yes, it means let’s get a beer; but you’re not just getting a beer, you’re getting a beer and having a conversation.  You don’t say “let’s grab a pint” when your intention is to over-imbibe, you say it when you want to go out and socialize.  Next, the term “half-pint”.  This normally refers to a small person, typically a child.  That fits perfect as the intention is to talk about our children and experiences we have as father.  Lastly, the simple meaning of pint as a unit of measure.  I understand it usually references an amount of liquid; however, a pint of information is just as acceptable.  It’s my interpretation.

That’s really all the depth I have for you.  I explained the importance of “with” earlier.  “Pops” has a better ring to it than “Pints with Dads” or “Pints with Fathers”.  I’m still searching for the deeper meaning in “Pops”.  I am from Wisconsin so it may also refer to a sugary carbonated beverage others call “soda” or those in the south call a “coke”.

Toddler aka Jekyll & Hyde

Now, I’m not inferring that my son is inherently good then transforms to evil and back again; but there are certainly moments that feel like it.

Today, all of it, was a prime example.  He woke up screaming for his momma.  I’m sorry son, momma is at work.  I leave his room and let him collect himself.  I come back and he calmly crawls out of bed, walks over to the rocking chair, looks up at me endearingly, and says “read book, please”.  I happily oblige.  The remainder of our morning together is rather uneventful and we arrive at daycare without incident.  Quite pleasant although it took longer than I had hoped to get him moving as I had an 8 am meeting that I ended up being late for.  Then when I was leaving daycare I see a girl offer him a stuffed animal, repeatedly, he clearly did not want the stuffed animal.  Rather than saying no and walking away he slaps it out of her hands.  Thankfully I was not in the classroom to react but on the other side of the window.  From what we were told he had a great day at daycare, go figure.

At home this evening he was in a very pleasant mood.  He went to the fridge and got leftover mac ‘n cheese out, sat at the table and happily ate/played with it, and then was finished with it.  Mom proceeded to clean up the remnants.  All that seems pretty harmless, innocent.  Then mom put a couple of pieces of mouthed macaroni in the garbage.  Whoa!  The world just ended.  Full on tantrum and attempted biting of mom’s leg.  That’s where it ended.  Mom laid down the law then.  It took some time and a timeout to explain, educate, and apologize; but, we ended that still going out to dinner.  He was a wonderful little boy the rest of the evening.  There was a lady at dinner that came and talked with us and told him he had nice hair, he replied “momma nice hair too! Daddy nice hair!”  Completely unprompted,  such a sweet boy.  It’s evenings like this that make you forget all the challenges he threw at us today.

After running around the house and doing sprints across the driveway, at his command, we ended the night with a popsicle.  I sat in the chair next to him at the table and could see the joy in his eyes, just staring off.  My heart and soul have never been happier.  Then, “daddy, bug on the window”.  Good night.

Biting the Ranch Fruit Cup

Layton is just about two years and three months old. It’s a pretty exciting time in our household. He talks, runs, climbs, and is super adventurous. We try to give him every opportunity for a new experience we possibly can. Sometimes we structure the opportunity and sometimes he creates things on his own.

From the “structured” aspect we have tried to give him a lot of opportunities to explore around the water. We are water people, particularly me. My wife enjoys her time at the water but only when it’s warm (not frozen). He’s taken several sessions of swimming lessons and is very comfortable around water. Been fishing several times both on the ice and on the boat. He caught a 20″ northern with grandpa over the 4th of July, mostly him but obviously needing grandpa’s help. This spring/early summer I decided he was ready to hop in the tube behind the boat on his own. Mom was on board with this, others were shocked we would do such a thing. He was super excited to do it. We had his life jacket on and I was driving the boat on a slower weekend at the lake. My speed was also very slow, just enough to get him moving. He loved it, which is what we hoped for. Create a positive experience in a place we enjoy. Grandpa took me and Layton behind his boat tubing over the 4th of July, on separate tubes; he went a bit faster than I did, at Layton’s request. It was great until Layton started getting sprayed in the face with water from the rope. Overall a positive experience so we were both happy. When Layton was done on the tube he got to enjoy watching grandpa throw his son-in-law (me) off the tube. I think he enjoyed that more than riding in the tube, after he knew I was ok.

The other little “experience” he created was the ranch fruit cup. We went out to dinner and ordered Layton’s meal with a fresh fruit as the side. It was a couple varieties of melon and grapes, all of which he loves. His meal also came with ranch dipping sauce for his chicken. Unbeknownst to us, it was not for the chicken. It was for the fruit. I don’t mean a little dip of the fruit and a bite. It was a full on combination of both cups into one. All the fruit dumped into the ranch, then submerged. Watching him eat this was entertaining as well. Full palm grab of each fruit piece from the depths of the ranch cup, into his mouth. He devoured all the fruit. We’ll be recommending this as a standard side offering to the restaurant. The next night at home was raw carrots and ketchup. I give him props for creativity.

Lastly, we’ve had to start dealing with the biting phase of toddlerhood. It’s actually been ongoing for the last two months. Randomly at bedtime we will discover massive bite marks on Layton when changing him into his pajamas. Two have been on this upper arm near the shoulder, one on his elbow, and the other on his ankle. He attends daycare so you would think if a child is bitten they would inform the parents of both children. Apparently they didn’t find the need to inform either party for three of the four occurrences. We’ve had several discussions with them now that it is unacceptable for the lack of awareness on their teachers’ part. The child who was doing the biting has moved on from Layton’s classroom but not without confirming to Layton that biting is ok because there is no response to it. By that I mean Layton has now bitten another child. That happened just this week. Thankfully we were made aware of it when it happened and the circumstances around the offense which gives us the opportunity to educate him on proper behavior regarding sharing and what to do when frustrated. It also allowed the teachers in his classroom to help him learn. I understand that biting is a common outlet in the toddler stage, but being able to address is as important if not more important than simply understanding it is common in that stage. To those of you wondering why we’ve stuck with the daycare after three instances of not reporting a bite, it’s quite simple for us. Selfishly, it’s convenient for us. For Layton’s sake, he is comfortable there. He knows his teachers and enjoys them. He also enjoys the other children in his classroom, some he has been there with since he was 6 weeks old. Finally, Layton has a very challenging time being dropped off in the morning. We are finally at a point where he is ok with being dropped off in his classroom and knowing it’s ok to be there without mom or dad. It’s taken us almost two years of daycare to get to this point. It is better for us to work with the daycare than disrupt a good thing we’ve worked to get to. I don’t need to explain myself though, I’m his parent. The explanation might help others facing a similar situation though.

Until next time, enjoy the ranch fruit cup!