Consistency Takes Priority

Without a commute, I am home much more. My new job has me working out of a home office and travelling two or three times each month. My former job had me commuting roughly one hour each way but travelling just two or three times each year. Most days now I sit with Chloe over breakfast in our kitchen and walk her to her morning carpool. I’d also say I emerge from my home office at the end of the day at least an hour earlier than my commute would get me home. Net-net … Chloe sees a whole lot more of me and gets more “daddy interaction” than she did before, even when taking into account my more frequent travelling.

But Chloe does not like the travelling. In particular, she dislikes the travelling because it disrupts the otherwise predictable “daddy” rituals she has come to expect—rituals that began during my five weeks of unemployment earlier this year. Before I leave for business travel, the thought of me missing consecutive breakfasts and dinners makes her ill at ease. So am I doomed to a less appreciated fatherhood while I continue to travel at this frequency? I do not think so. Instead I need to create a new kind of enjoyable ritual that is tied specifically to my inconsistent travel and return schedule. And for a ten-year-old daughter, there are plenty of enjoyable rituals I can create.

Three years ago, I had a weekly ritual with each of my kids. On Wednesdays I would take Philip to the gym to play basketball before school. And on Fridays I would take Chloe on a breakfast date at the local coffee shop before school. The breakfasts with Chloe became quite elaborate. We brought an age-appropriate board game and would play one or two games before leaving to take her to school. I would park the car in the lower school parking lot and walk her to the front of the classroom where hopscotch squares were painted on the pavement. While waiting for her bell, we would take turns hopping in the hopscotch squares. When the bell finally rang, I would walk her into her classroom and say goodbye with a hug and a kiss.

Today, Chloe is too old to have me take her into her class. But breakfast is a real possibility. So are dessert dates. We had one relatively recently. I took her into downtown Santa Carla and bought her favorite ice cream. As we walked from the parking lot to the ice cream shop, we heard live music coming out of a coffee shop just three doors down from the ice cream shop. Chloe told me she liked the music. Once we had our ice cream, we walked back to the coffee shop. I took us to the counter and explained that even though we had ice cream, we were willing to pay a “corking fee” to sit at a table and enjoy the live music. The proprietor was too nice. “Have a seat and enjoy the evening with your daughter.” We compromised. I bought some imported tea as a present for Amelia. For the next half hour, Chloe and I sat down to enjoy the ice cream with the live music. It was a great evening.

Between a breakfast date and a dessert date and the numerous other possibilities, I am confident I will find something that will satisfy Chloe as an appropriate reconnection ritual for when I return from business trips. The fun for both of us is exploring the possibilities.

Breaking into the Circle

It had been over twenty-five years since I had taken part in a car wash fundraiser. But this past Saturday, I was the only parent who joined over fifteen teens and three twenty-something-aged high school coaches to spend an afternoon washing cars in exchange for donations.

Philip joined me. I was the oldest by at least ten years. (Philip was the youngest by at least ten weeks.) I took the hubcap cleaning brush and spent the afternoon in a squatting position brushing the tar off fifty plus vehicles' hubcaps. I intentionally stayed quiet and observed Philip’s emerging peer group and his slow progress breaking into the circle.

To make myself a little more welcome, I brought a cooler of sodas, two family sized bags of chips, paper plates and a small table—complete with tablecloth—to serve as a relief kiosk. And within half an hour, it seemed the high school kids were acting the same way they would act if I wasn’t there.

I was amazed at how easily I vanished into a state of there but not there as far as the teens were concerned. I could fully observe the dynamic to witness Philip cautiously navigate his way into the group. Most of the kids had been interacting with one another for most of the past academic year, if not longer. Some of the younger ones like Jocelyn remembered Philip from when they were in Middle School. But Philip was effectively arriving cold into a very cohesive pre-existing group.

Philip earned special attention by volunteering for rooftop duty on trucks, vans, minivans and SUVs. Being the lightest boy there, he was a very logical best choice for those jobs. After the first successful roof job, he was comfortable allowing himself to step into the boost-up from teenage guys nearly twice his weight and at least two years older. I thought it was good for him to carve out a niche for himself like that and it seemed to pay off in him getting to know his emerging peers quickly, especially the older guys.

Most of the girls at the fundraiser wanted the role of waving signs and flagging down traffic. But Jocelyn managed to seize the opportunity for herself and her cousin Danielle for the bulk of the afternoon. At one point, the backup was so thick, we recalled all advertisers except Jocelyn and Danielle. But when the lone lull in activity came upon us, one of Philip’s boosters shouted, “Jocelyn! Look what you did!”

“Yeah! Come over here and say that!” she quipped. The guy smiled, waved and turned his back to head for the relief kiosk. “Yeah! That’s what I thought you’d do, you chicken!” Jocelyn pushed before turning back to her sign waving.

Things got silly from time to time. Jocelyn’s older sister was a particular magnet for a handful of suds to the back of the head from one of the other older girls. But for the most part, the kids (as well as the adults) simply worked while quietly socializing. Some of the kids found ways to put different words to a popular tune to tell an amusing tale about washing cars. A few of the songs caught on enough that others joined in for the singing.

At one point, I became mildly concerned that one of the older girls was sounding at bit too patronizing toward Philip. “You’re doing a good job on the cars today, Philip,” she said just a little too frequently and a little too loudly. I considered saying something to her, but quickly decided to let it go. She was probably just trying to be nice and it was merely coming out a little off. When I asked Philip about it that evening, he said it didn’t bother him.

Philip’s made significant strides in getting to know the older teens. But in just one afternoon he did not go all the way from outsider to insider. Perhaps not yet inside would be the best way to describe what he achieved. Philip’s not yet inside status was most clear at the end of the afternoon. The fundraiser was over, and we’d earned over five hundred dollars. I was socializing comfortably with the other adults while I put away the relief kiosk. Under some shade the teens had formed a tight circle. They were casually talking and making cell phone calls to their parents to ensure their rides home would arrive soon. Philip was in the shade too, but the circle never opened up fully to let him inside. He stood behind and in between two people who had half-opened the circle. But to actually be a part of the circle, he would have needed to ostentatiously shove his way forward.

But he was not going to do something so bold this early. He knew he had plenty of time to be fully welcomed into the literal circle. Not yet inside was enough of an achievement that afternoon to satisfy my son Philip.

The Supporting Cast of Characters

When I was in college, I met a man who made documentaries about current events as they were unfolding. The one thing I remember from our conversation was that the most difficult task in making his documentaries successful was building his cast of characters.

So as this blog tracking my kids coming of age moves into its eighth month and Philip’s Middle School career rapidly gives way to High School, I believe it is worth taking a look at who is emerging as Philip’s proverbial supporting cast for the coming years. Some of them you have met already. Others are new to you, but for Philip they have been quite significant for some time. Here are the guys who are closest to Philip.

Craig. Craig is probably Philip’s closest friend. He’s also Philip’s most difficult friend. And as mentioned in a previous post, I’m not certain Philip’s friendship with Craig will survive the transition to high school. The two have known each other since they were on the same soccer team I coached in the fourth grade. They’ve played on multiple soccer and lacrosse teams together, including the lacrosse team this past season. Craig was at our house for the two middle school socials we hosted and proved himself to be the most aggressive deliverer of one-liners. Craig is a good kid at his core. But on the surface he is very reactionary and particularly insecure, which is not a promising combination for Craig’s social life in high school. Craig tells me he has ambitions to participate in student government. I wish him success.

Raul. Raul was Philip’s first friend in Hermes. Before moving from San Geraldo to Hermes, we signed up Philip for Little League Baseball in Hermes. We figured he’d meet a bunch of kids on the team—at least one of whom was bound to be in his first grade class on Philip’s first day at a new school more than half way through the year. When Philip started at his new elementary school in Hermes, he found Raul there waving him into the same class. The two shared a great season of Little League as well as the two seasons of soccer that followed with me as their coach. While Philip has moved on from baseball to lacrosse, baseball remains Raul’s passion.

Ross. Ross is Philp’s “mellow” friend. He’s the friend we called when Philip returned from the emergency room full of so much muscle-relaxer he couldn’t walk. The friendship between Ross and Philip goes back to elementary school. For middle school, Ross transferred to Trinity School, the local K-8 private school rather than following his classmates to Hermes Middle School. The two will rejoin one another at Hermes High School next year.

Joshua. Joshua (lately called “The J-Man” and “Shoe”) has been with Philip at Oak Hills Charter School for the past two years but they have been friends since the first grade. Joshua is unique in that he is not heading to Hermes High School. Instead, Joshua will continue on to the high school program at Oak Hills Charter School. Rather than playing team sports, Joshua enjoys martial arts and has earned himself a black belt. Joshua’s bravado rivals that of Craig, and Joshua would be a close runner-up to Craig in terms of delivering one-liners at the middle school socials we have hosted.

Philip has plenty of other guy friends, of course. But it would be exhaustive to cover them all. And then there are the girls. But the girls deserve to be the subject of their own post.