Daddy/Daughter Photo

I finally took a few minutes to scan the photo Cassandra and I had taken at the Sweetheart Dance in February. Cassandra is always much more lively in her candid photos, but she still looks lovely here--if a little too grown-up too soon for Daddy!

And I have to admit that this is one of the best pictures of me in a long time. Yep, that's as good as it gets, folks.

I Finally Bought Some Big Boy Clothes

The local Girl Scout Council was holding a Sweetheart Dance, also known as a Daddy/Daughter Dance. Cassandra wanted to go this year, so I talked myself into it.

The poster said "semi-formal", which is pretty-close-but-not-quite-the-exact opposite of how I dress now. I have a few pairs of black pants, a couple of button-down shirts (I wouldn't even call them "dress shirts"), a drawer full of sweaters that are slightly younger than my children, and a Santa Claus tie. I forgot that I also had a lone suit in my closet that had gone neglected for so long it was practically a blind spot in there, but it's just as well that I had--when I tried it on later, my waistline said, "Yeah, forget about it."

I decided I needed to buy some new clothes for the event. This was momentous because I am not a good clothes shopper. I usually get frustrated and angerbuy a few shirts on my way out of the store, and then I don't venture out clothes shopping again for at least 6 months.

I was thinking of getting an entire suit, or at least a blazer. I wasn't sure what would be worse: if I were left to my own devices, or if I went somewhere with salespeople to help dress me. I ended up at Kohl's, for no reason other than it seemed as good a place as any to start.

I spent probably an hour trying on various coats and suits, slacks and a few shirts. I surprised myself with how much I ended up getting, but in the back of my head I was thinking, "If I bring home a few choices, maybe at least one will end up looking presentable." I had a pretty good haul for just under $500: 3 suit coats/sports jackets, 3 pairs of pants, 3 dress shirt/tie combos (a godsend for someone like me who would panic at having to select both a shirt AND the tie to go with it), a pair of dress shoes, a few undershirts, and a wool coat. I figured at 41, I should stop being okay with the winter-jacket-over-suit-coat look that seemed fairly reasonable when I was 25.

$500 seems to me like a large amount of clothes to purchase at one time, even though I know real, actual grown-ups might not even blink at that. And, hey--if I believe the Kohl's propaganda they print on their receipt, I SAVED $900! I'm a little bummed they didn't make me feel really good about my purchase by arbitrarily making the "original" price 2 or 3 times higher, so I could have saved even more.

So now I have a few more outfits in my closet that will help me not dress like an eternal twentysomething. I just have to remember to take them out and put them on once in a while.

Build-A-Bribe

"Are you here today for a birthday or special occasion?" asked the cheerful Build-A-Bear employee as she led us to the giant blowy stuffing machine.

Bribery.

Cassandra has had a slight eye turn problem for the past couple of years. It's not at all noticeable just by looking at her. We only see it when we bring a pencil slowly towards her nose, the way someone learns to cross their eyes. At a certain point close to her nose, one or both eyes give up and shoot in the opposite direction. This could be a horrible hindrance to her future, severely limiting her opportunities in the pencil-staring industry.

Actually, it could cause problems with her reading ability, if gone unchecked. Something to do with her eyes converging on the page. So we have her in vision therapy, doing eye exercises on the computer. It was supposed to be weekly, and now we're back to four times a week. With homework, dance, gymnastics, and play dates there's never a good time to do these exercises. Therefore, it has become quite a struggle to get her to put much effort into them at all. (I have to admit that it's my wife bearing the lion's share of this burden.)

In an effort to keep Cassandra interested, we've turned to the tried-and-true parenting technique of bribery. She'd been asking for another trip to Build-A-Bear Workshop for a while, and I wondered if letting her pick out six or seven outfits along with a new friend would give her weekly incentives to do her eye exercises without complaining. A few weekends ago, we went and picked out a koala Cassandra had seen in the catalogue and accessorized with a box full of outfits. KiKi (inexplicably pronounced "kay-kay") was the reward for that first week of exercises, and she has since earned KiKi's glasses.

We weren't sure what to do about Alex. If he got a bear not as a reward but just as a gift, would that diminish Cassandra's incentive? If he didn't get one, would it be punishing him for not having to do eye exercises? We really didn't have any comparable task or behavior-change for him to achieve. I was also wondering, would he even want one--is he too old for this now? (I don't think so, but then I was the guy with stuffed Chip 'N Dale dolls in my college dorm room.)

Things actually worked out about as well as we could have hoped. Alex was interested in getting a new friend and a single outfit, and Cassandra didn't say anything about it being unfair that he got a bear without having to "earn" it. Alex doesn't play with Donou (the bear comes with a doughnut, as well as sprinkles on his ears and nose) as much as Cassandra plays with her animals, but he still likes having him around.

My children are growing up quickly, but in this era where it seems everything is pushing them to mature more quickly than ever, it's nice to see that there's still "kid" in them, yet.

And this was way cheaper than American Girl would've been.

The Lunch Date and the Nearly Broken Promise

Two weeks ago, I used my lunch hour to drop off a too-large-for-the-bus art project at school and stayed to have lunch with Cassandra in the school cafeteria. I asked Alex what day in the next week he'd like me to have lunch with him, and we decided on Friday.

Last Friday, I was running errands over the lunch hour with absolutely no memory of making that lunch date until it hit me out of the blue. Unfortunately, I don't have a brain that alerts me before I'm going to miss something. No, my brain alarm goes off when "HOLY CRAP YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE SOMEWHERE ELSE RIGHT NOW". That's useful.

Sometimes that alarm means a mad dash (and questionable driving etiquette) to get somewhere only fifteen or twenty minutes late. In this case, though, that wasn't an option. The kids get only about half an hour to eat lunch before they're ushered outside, and I was across town. I probably wouldn't have even made it to the lunchroom before Alex went outside.

So I spent the rest of my afternoon feeling pathetic, and apologized to Alex when I got home that night. I had considered stopping at Subway to take home the cookie he was looking forward to sharing with me at lunch, but I knew that Friday dinners are usually eaten at restaurants with ice cream or shakes as dessert. It turned out just as well that I decided not to, since he had a special presentation in one of his classes that included a couple of snacks for the kids attending.

This Tuesday, I asked Alex which day I should come to lunch, and he said Wednesday. Part of me wondered if that was so that if I screwed up again, I'd have two more opportunities to try again.

I made a note on my Google calendar, put a Post-It note in my bag with my wallet and keys, and wrote a reminder on my cubicle white board. I couldn't blow this again.

Today when I got to school with my standard lunch-date bag of Subway, I waited for Alex's class to come downstairs for lunch. I had made sure to ask him this morning which set of stairs they use, and I wanted to be there plenty early so I wouldn't have to try to find him in the crowded cafeteria. Especially these days, when individual kids are obscured in a blurry sea of winter coats and hats.

Alex was second in line when his class came downstairs, and he was rubbing his eye. As I said hi and fell in step beside him, he leaned his head into my side in a way I understood to mean he was a little upset about something. I imagined it was something that hadn't gone his way this morning, or some interaction with a classmate had upset him. He wasn't crying, but I could tell something was bothering him enough to make him hold back the tears. I planned to ask him if he felt like talking about it as soon as we sat down, or if he wanted to wait until tonight so it wouldn't be in front of his classmates.

As we found our table, he told me what was bothering him: "I thought you weren't coming again." I felt like I been punched in the stomach; I had no idea that I was what he had been sad about.

Because I hadn't said specifically where I would meet him, he thought I'd be outside his room. I usually wait somewhere between their classrooms and the cafeteria, and I thought the foot of the stairs right in front of the cafeteria entrance made sense. So it was really just a simple misunderstanding, and one that didn't even last that long. It can't have been more than five minutes from getting their winter gear on and lining back up upstairs to the time they came down, but I can't imagine what he was thinking for those five minutes.

I know there will always be times when I make my children angry with me, whether it's for insisting they pick up their mess, help with a chore, turn off the TV, or finish their video game time. But I honestly didn't expect to cause them such disappointment. Not at this age, anyway. Perhaps when they're teenagers and realize I'm not Superman, but not now.

Even though today's lunch worked out and Alex seemed to get over things quickly enough, now I can't stop wondering what he was feeling last week as it dawned on him, "Daddy's really not coming today."

Parenting is hard. Especially when you're not Superman.

New Year, New Blog, Same Grievances

So this is where I've decided to throw down some stakes.

As we (far too) slowly unravel unto the holiday season, it seems like as good a time as any to establish some roots, post a few blog entries, and try to find a foothold into somewhat regularly updating the world re: my muddled thinkings.

I have no idea what this will be. I have no idea what my intended audience is. I have no idea how long I will continue to update this before it atrophies into my typical "is he even updating any more?"

But let's get started, shall we?

Salvaged from LiveJournal: May 1st, 2002

mood:  pensive

music: Jewel

A glimmer of hope on the job front

This morning I got a call from the HR department of one of the places where I applied for a job. Even though I felt there were a few places where I stumbled conversationally (I had just woken up about 10 minutes earlier) I think it went well. She said she's going to pass my file over to the web development area, and if they're interested they'll call later in the week or next week.

The job is in Des Moines Iowa, which moves me 4 hours away from my closest family, but people survive not being in the same city as their families, right? And my parents will be in Utah for at least a few more years, so they wouldn't see that much of us anyway.

Looking into Des Moines, it could be a nice place to live. Big enough to have places to go but not Chicago-sized. Reasonably priced housing and cost of living.

I just dread the process of putting my house on the market, finding a house in Iowa, and acquiring financing. This being a real buyer's market (I count at least 6 houses right in my neighborhood for sale), I'm not optimistic about a quick and profitable sale of this house. And then there's the fun of packing up everything I own and schlepping it halfway across Iowa.

Can we please just fast-forward to six months from now when we're all settled in our new home and completely done with this one? But I guess I'm getting ahead of myself. Gotta get the job first.

Salvaged from LiveJournal: April 19th, 2002

mood:  anxious

Will code for food.

I am sooOOoo sick of looking for a job. It's now been two months since I was laid off, and one month since I've been able to really look for a job. Nothing.

I really detest moving and all that entails, and I'm comfortable in my house anyway. However, I've recently become really discouraged with the job market in the Chicago area. There is such a glut of programmers that every possible job has 20 more people who fit the job description perfectly. So I opened up my search to pretty much the entire country, and I still come up empty. There are only a few areas I'm avoiding, like the extreme South (can't stand the heat) and New York City (can't stand practically everything about it).

I keep going back and forth between I really really don't want to have to move and it won't be so bad; it might be interesting to move to a whole different state since I've been in Illinois since 2nd grade. Right now, that's kind of moot, since I can't seem to catch a break and get an interview.