One of the joys and tragedies of siblings is how much the little one picks up. When my daughter was in first grade, I was welcome in the classroom, on field trips, anywhere. She was glad to see me until at least fourth grade, when she started setting limits of how much (or if) I…
Sometimes the raw honesty and directness of childhood takes my breath away. When I think about death, there is a brooding quality, a familiar one yet muted. Adults learn to push it to the back of the shelf. And there’s a bittersweetness; I think fondly about those I’ve lost and miss. None of this is…
It was the 9th anniversary of the day we met, though not our wedding anniversary, which will be 5 years in August. My head spins at how quickly it goes. We dragged the kids to a fantastic Berkeley Cajun place we hadn’t taken them before. Fingers were crossed. A few years ago we were sure…
It’s tiresome, how unprepared I am for the things that inevitably happen. Jaden was running a fever of 102, 104, even briefly 105 over the weekend, and was snuggling with me, and coughing in my face, during the night. The advice nurse said we were doing the right things: fluids, rest, ibuprofen or acetaminophen. Compared…
It comes in waves. When you watch the ripples on a lake, and two big sets of waves come together and it’s all foamy and turbulent? That’s the state we reached this morning. The screaming was epic. New year, post vacation, then Monday was a holiday. It sounds nice, but getting out of the routine…
The school secretary sounded serious. “Your daughter is ok, but I think she needs to be seen by a doctor,” she told me. She’d slipped in the mud playing football and her arm hurt. In the office, the principal and I asked her to wiggle her fingers, and how much it hurt. It didn’t seem…
Really all I need is a simple way back to now. And I need it again, and again, and again. When I escape the trap of my worries, the real world seems so solid and beautiful. I find myself Assistant Scout Master for my son’s pack, or pride or den, whatever it’s called. First grade is…
As an anxious person, I spend a lot of time trying to calm myself (and others) down. As a loving person I long to be in synch with and connected to people. I watch with envy those who seem calm and at ease with themselves, and strive to make myself that way too, but I’m…
We’re just back from a week at family camp. It was our eighth year, and there’s much to love. For one, the corny entertainments. There are singalongs and sketches and silliness that benefit from being performed in such an improbable spot, tucked into the trees in the Sierra Mountain wilderness. There’s barely electricity, but these…
We’re just back from a whirlwind 4-day trip to Boston, and I know I should be celebrating keeping the kids alive through airplanes, subways, Ubers, and staying with friends. We had fun, we all came back, we didn’t get kicked out of anywhere. That should be a win, right? But it’s been hard to stop focusing on…
Two recent endings have me feeling a bit deflated, though it’s been tough to figure out exactly why. First, I’m giving up standing at work, or at least most of the time. I’d had great hopes for the benefits (health! vigor!), but after more than a year trying it, I think it’s mostly substituted back stuff…
I should know not to tempt fate. Maybe a year ago I started feeling cocky, like we’d gotten this parenting thing down. Nobody knows what they’re doing, of course, but I felt we’re going to survive it—the adults, the kids, our marriage. I felt that everyone will emerge, more or less, unscathed. And of course we…
It was time to start telling people. Probably past time. There’s a dull pounding in my ears. I take a breath, and steady myself. As nonchalantly as possible, I say “Yeah, Jaden’s in kindergarten in the fall…” Pause. “…Again.” It’s strange how vividly every time I ever told someone I’m gay flashes before my eyes when I’ve…
One of the perks of writing — and I guess parenting — is that I get to be right so much of the time, or imagine that I am. School dropoff is time for the adults to share war stories, and these don’t tend to paint our little dears in a great light. They’re headed to class, unable to rebut…
I’ve stormed out of the house again. Standing by the garage, I see my neighbor up the street wrangling clippings into the green bin, and I think maybe I’ll head up there. Make conversation. But I’m not sure. There’s a wet dishtowl over my shoulder, and probably a fire in my eye. I might seem…
I laughed out loud to read my friend Whitney’s caption under a delightful movie of her child sledding in snow. “This video is misleading,” she wrote, “Today has not been all fun and games.” While she’s always enjoyable to read (and her blog 510 Families is an East Bay must for parents), my delight was also because I’d…
In my (priviledged) experience, you have to look pretty hard in Berkeley to find somebody who’ll object to gays, or two guys raising children, polytheistic and vegetarian. (We’re actually omnivores, that last bit just an example). I don’t think my expressive dance therapy, Ojai psychic, or Reiki training could manage a rolled eye for at…
I thought I’d be one of those prepared dads, with a little pocket screwdriver, duct tape, some crayons and a bunch of grapes at the ready. But I often fail to have even the essentials. This is compounded by the new math. Getting two kids to one school at the same time sounds easier than getting two…
I had such a vision for my family enjoying culture and the arts. I’d get dreamy seeing young kids at the museum, or when friends brought a baby to a party. It gave me a refreshing hope that creative parents can keep their lives going and integrate the kids. If they can do it we can do it, right? Right?…
I can remember only a few things about kindergarten. Making paintings with string, all of us in our painting aprons. Somehow getting poor Mrs. Gibson in a conversation about whether God exists. (She and my mother became lifelong friends, so whatever that was about they worked it out.) I barely remember how it felt to…
