Tag: parenting

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personal

Both the light and the dark always come

Building roller-coasters

Just finished Pax, by Tom Holland – the book that the NFL Player gave us all for his bday party.

Man, if you thought Game of Thrones/Wheel of Time was messed up, fiction’s got nuthin on what the Romans were all about.

Life in Rome was dark, oftentimes. Very dark.

On a much cheerier side of dark, however, Halloween’s happening soon.

While I love seeing the kid dress up, it’s also a reminder that holiday season is right around the corner, which has its own darkness for me.

But I’m trying to be positive this year.

It doesn’t hurt that the Firecracker’s around and offers her own positivity around here.

Her: I made a flourless chocolate cake. Do you want some?
Me: Yes, please!
Her: You can come by and pick it up when you’re ready.

And the kid’s always doing something that brings me joy.

This past weekend, the Firecracker, her kid, me, and my kid spent a lazy Saturday sitting out in a playground for a kid’s party, drinking sodas and eating carbs.

Gotta say, I think that I engage with the world a lot just because I have to with the kid.

And sometimes, he gives me joy in the most unexpected but simple ways.

Him: Papa?
Me: Yeah, kid?
Him: I made something. Can I show it to you?
Me: I dunno, I’ve got a ton of…
Him: (disappointed) It’s ok…
Me: Wait. I’ll finish up and you can show me in five minutes. Is that ok?
Him: (happily) Yes! Oooooh, I can’t wait to show you! I built a roller-coaster!
Me: (laughing) I can’t wait to see it.

Location: Earlier tonight, a ferry from Greenpoint to Manhattan
Mood: so beat
Music: If you’re not ready yet, I’ll wait – cause when it’s good it’s great (Spotify)

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personal

Critical thinking isn’t the most important thing

It’s issue spotting

Me: Hello, hot blonde.
Her: Hello, handsome old Chinese man.
Me: The “old” was really not necessary.
Her: But accurate!

I’ve said repeatedly that my major goal for the boy is teaching him critical thinking.

Unfortunately, the recent (massive) hurricanes and flooding happening here in the US – and abroad – around has made me reassess the contours of that.

I recently decided that critical thinking is secondary to a more basic skill: Issue spotting – which is determining if there’s even a problem in the first place.

Came to this realization seeing how many people I know in life that deny climate change.

As an aside, all self-identify as Republicans and many have a religious bent, which makes me feel all the more foolish for ever voting republican and ever being religious at all.

In any case, back in law school, I remember that everyone is taught two basic skills:

      1. Issue spotting, and then
      2. issue solving.

It’s always in that order because all law school exams – especially the bar exam – essentially tests on both whereby, if you’re unable to spot the issue in the first place, your chance of correctly answering the question is nil.

This is where I’m finding we are as a society; half of the people are concerned about answering the issue, whereas the other half denies that an issue even exists, often pointing to one lone dissenter and ending the argument there for them.

There’s no ability to critically think about a solution because people can’t even see that there’s a problem that needs solving.

This is terrifying, on so many levels.

And it’s happening everywhere and all at once.

Me: You don’t think it’s an issue that you’re 35 years old and have nothing saved for retirement?
Him: (puzzled) Retirement is like 30 years away; I have plenty of time.
Me: JFC…sit down. I need to explain a lotta things to you.

Location: my stoop, chatting with a friend that stopped by to check up on me
Mood: beyond busy
Music: don’t overthink it – like all my problems, I don’t have one (Spotify)
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Doing the best we can

All the good and nonea the bad

Just a random story; in the middle of our vacation, it seems a small fire broke out somewhere on the ship.

I was pretty alarmed and went to make sure everything was ok.

Ultimately, I found a buncha crew members taking off their fire protective gear, which made me feel a lot better.

That’s pretty much the end of our summer vacation.

But I just wanna leave you with one word of advice: On a Disney cruise, don’t order the green whiskey drink they have.

It’s so bad, I returned it.

And you know that I never return food and drink.

Her: Return it.
Me: I don’t do that.
Her: Well, then drink it.
Me: (sighing) I’ll return it.

Him: (singing) Dadadadada…chicken butt.
Me: Legit kid, where are you learning alla this stuff?
Him: I just made it up!
Me: Great…

The relaxation of our vacation seems long gone as I get the kid ready for school.

When I was a kid, summer vacation seemed like it lasted forever during most of it but towards the end, I recall that I always felt it was too short.

I’m gonna guess that our summer vacations were very different – yours and mine.

And, certainly, mine were pretty different from my kid’s because this summer he’s been on:

      • Two vacations requiring a plane.
      • One cruise.
      • Two camps.

Me?

My summers, for the most part, involved me being the library from sunup to sundown.

That is, if we weren’t going on a family trip to Taiwan to see relatives.

As I got older, like my early teens, we went on more vacations because my parents both started making some money.

But that was much later in my life, I think.

I was mentioning to the Firecracker that I felt my parents did the best they could do but they weren’t perfect – what parent is?

Me: I’d like to take all the good and helpful things my parents did and give them to the kid but not all the stuff that didn’t work for us, [my siblings and me].
Her: Sure, I think that’s what every parent wants.
Me: Yeah. I remember my friend Somena saying to me years ago that it’s tricky, how much of our past to take with us to our future. It’s even trickier as a parent.
Her: That’s for sure, Lo.

Here’s hoping I don’t mess the kid up too much.

Location: NJ, having lamb with the kid
Mood: hungry
Music: Mama, come here. Approach, appear. And Daddy, I’m alone (Spotify)
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Decisions are processes, not events

Coffeetime?

Me: Man, this coffee is great…wait, what time is it?
Her: (checking watch) 3:23?
Me: Dammit!

When we were out in Long Island, the Firecracker and I chatted about being parents, which we usually do.

The most important thing for me, as a parent, is to teach the kid how to think critically think.

Again, how to think, not what to think.

The recent Titanic sub disaster made me think a lot about smart people making terrible decisions.

James Cameron, the director of the film Titanic – and an amateur sub enthusiast himself – said that he knew exactly what happened to the sub before alla the details were even out.

It’s easy to call the CEO’s decisions things like stupid and moronic but it’s a lot more complex, and dangerous, than that.

Because people seem to look at decisions like singular events:

      • I decided to go to law school.
      • I decided to have waffles for brekkie.

But they’re not that at all: All decisions are the cumulation of processes in our heads:

      • I decided to go to law school because my dad wanted me to and I didn’t feel I was ready to stop learning yet. And each of those two reasons had many reasons beneath that; my dad felt that lawyers and doctors were the best professions that two children of immigrants could have. Plus, I spent my life alone with books, so I wanted to find a way to continue that.
      • I do occasionally have waffles for breakfast, but only when I haven’t had carbs in a while so I’m in a relative deficit of carbs and can “afford,” to splurge on something like waffles. But if I do that, I then have to be in the gym for two consecutive days.

Sometimes these processes happen in the blink of an eye, sometimes, these decisions take weeks, months, or even years to fully happen.

The CEO most likely made a series of smaller poor decisions based on various cognitive biases that he had – the worst decision being to use carbon fiber for the hull instead of metal – ultimately resulting in the disaster.

What I’m hoping to give this kid are good tools to process each step of any decision as best as he can.

Which is not, at all, to say that it’s or I’m perfect.

I’ve made some terrible decisions in life; decisions that I still ruminate on late in the night when I can’t sleep.

And I try to figure out which tool I ignored, disregarded, or am simply missing.

For example, I have a rule where I never have coffee/caffeine after 3PM.

But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve disregarded that rule for one reason or another – societal pressure, sunk cost bias, confirmation bias, optimism bias, overconfidence, etc – with disastrous results.

My son will make bad decisions in life. That’s what people do and that’s part of how we learn.

I just hope that (a) they’re not decisions that he can’t change later on and (b) he continually makes more good decisions than bad ones, and (c) he gets better at making good decisions as he ages.

I’m still working on alla that myself.

Me: I guess I’ll just toss it. Seems like such a waste.
Her: Do you want to be up all night?
Me: (sigh) Fair. What a shame…

Location: bed, waiting until noon to leave
Mood: headachy
Music: Feel the heat increase and my mind’s racing (Spotify)
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Wanting a Bahn Mi

Been growing mushrooms

Her: I want a banh mi.
Me: I want to banh *you* right now.
Her: (laughs)

Was in the mood for Vietnamese the other day so the lady and I hit up the local joint.

I’d not eaten inside the place in years because of COVID so it was weird sitting inside at a table.

So weird what normalcy feels like these days.

We got a pork belly sandwich with two coffees. She wanted to treat so I agreed.

The coffee was great – I’ve always liked Cafe Du Monde’s Chicory Coffee, which is what some of my fave Vietnamese joints serve but it’s definitely an acquired taste.

This place had a whole wall of the stuff.

I shoulda taken a pic. Next time.

Me: God, that sandwich was so ridonk good.
Her: Do you want another one?
Me: I *want* another one but I won’t get another one. I’m 50. I gotta start trying to eat a little less.

Try, being the operative word here.

Been on a weird kick of growing my own mushrooms lately, for both health and food in general.

Mainly Lion’s Mane because (a) it has a consistency and look that’s pretty similar to lobster, which is wild, and (b) it’s been linked to good brain health, and oyster mushrooms.

As the kid gets older, I’m always thinking of ways to keep him and his brain protected.

To wit, the blue and pink oyster mushrooms are part of a science project that is both fascinating and delicious; the lion’s mane I’ve been growing myself from some I got at a local famer’s market near the gym.

The hope is that he just gets used to things in his life – like turmeric, mushrooms, and green tea – that are overall protective of his health.

Of course, he likes none of it now but the hope is that he will someday as he gets older.

Him: (makes a face) No. I don’t like it.
Me: Welp, you tried it and I appreciate that. You might like it in the future.
Him: If you say so….

Location: earlier today, chatting with my therapist at a white desk
Mood: hungry
Music: I was starving when I met you (Spotify)
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First bully

Finishing a fight

Her: I’m a fan of all of your different personalities. (thinking) Wait, that’s not true, there is one Logan I’m not a fan of.
Me: Which one?
Her: The one that cuts like a knife. Not a fan of that one.

Most of my life these days is being a dad.

Her: Would you ever be a [lawyer/martial arts instructor/network analyst/etc] again?
Me: (thinking) I’m happy with my quiet life being Mr. Mom.

But I felt my old self come back for a fleeting moment the other day when, after school, the boy ran to me crying with blood going down his face and shirt.

He said an older girl kicked him in the face.

Saw red for a moment but calmed down as best I could. The girl – a teenager – saw me and took off running. So, I cleaned him up and brought him to his scheduled Chinese class.

But then another parent wrote me to tell me that the girl had come back.

So, I went back to the schoolyard to speak to her. The lawyer in me told me to record the whole thing so I did that.

I found them so simple and stupid.

I think I hate kids. Except my own, that is.

The girl told me that my kid started it by kicking a ball towards them and she kicked the ball back at him and knocked out his tooth.

My son later insisted that this was false, she kicked him directly in the face.

I should mention right now that it was a baby tooth, which is part of the reason I decided not to escalate this.

She said she was protecting her friend, who was a boy, vastly overweight, and the same height as me. This annoyed me.

Me: You understand he’s seven, right? You’re a lot older than him just like I’m a lot older than you.
Her: (stares blankly)
Me: You really should be embarrassed with yourselves, picking on a seven year old.

Admittedly, there was a part of me that wanted to beat the snot outta all of them.

But I can only imagine the papers the next day.

This is my typical lunch when I’m in a playground waiting for the kid to finish up playing.

Spoke to my MIL, who told me that I did everything right.

It honestly didn’t feel that way. But I suppose she’s right.

Spoke to the kid afterward.

Me: What were you thinking kicking a ball at kids *that* much bigger than you?
Him: (shrugging) I don’t know.
Me: Here’s the thing: If anyone hits you, you have my absolute permission to hit them back. But it cuts both way, kid. You threw a ball at them, they had a right to defend themselves. I’ll never get mad at you for finishing a fight, but I will get mad at you for starting one.
Him: Are you mad now?
Me: (shaking head) I’m not happy but, no, I’m not mad. I’m just glad you’re ok. Let’s not get into another fight for another seven years – at least – ok?
Him: OK. (thinking) You promised me ice cream if I lost a tooth.
Me: (laughing) I did. A deal’s a deal, right kid?
Him: (smiling his now gap-toothed smile) Yeah!

Location: this morning, running down to Chinatown to get some food and a haircut before grabbing the kid for jits
Mood: less annoyed
Music: She’s so good with her stiletto, you don’t even see the blade (Spotify)
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PSA: The Typical Colonoscopy Procedure

My colonoscopy procedure

After I taught the class, rushed back home where my sitter was watching the kid.

Me: Papa’s gonna be in the back doing…stuff.
Him: Can I watch?
Her: (laughing) I don’t think your dad wants you to see.
Him: To be fair, I don’t want *anyone* to see – or hear – what’s about to happen.

What I had to do was drink TWO liters of a pretty gross laxative – I opted for the “lemon flavoring,” I can only imagine how gross it is without it – which I had to consume a cup at a time every ten minutes starting at 9:30.

Now, I was supposed to have done this at 6:30PM, because my procedure was scheduled for 10:30AM the following day.

But, like I said, I already agreed to teach the class, so 9:30 was the earliest I could get things going.

Having said that, after the third cup, things happened pretty quickly, and it took a solid two hours for things to slow down.

That’s not the worst of it, though. You’re supposed to get up five hours before your procedure to do it yet again.

Yup, FOUR liters of laxative for this bright-eyed boy in eight hours.

Had to start at 5AM so I wouldn’t have an accident dropping off the kid in the AM. So, from 5AM to 7AM, it was yet more grossness.

Now, I probably coulda skipped the second round because of my intermittent fasting. See, the last time I had solid food was Sunday night at 6:30PM while my procedure was set for 10:30AM on Tuesday.

Got the kid to school ok, then went home to basically chill for an hour before I made my way to the place, which was on the Upper East Side, near the where the Counselor and the Blue Jean Eyed girl lived.

From the time I walked in the door to the time I left, was almost exactly 50 minutes. Legit.

        • I walked in at 10:28.
        • I was on the table at 10:42.
        • They started doing stuff at 10:46.
        • They finished at 10:53.
        • I was conscious at 10:58.
        • I was up by 11:05.
        • I was out the door by 11:18.

Honestly, the smoothest procedure I’d ever been part of.

Although you probably couldn’t tell with this shot the nurse took of me after I came to.

Not my most flattering shot. But it pretty accurately represents how I felt at that moment.

And, because of alla Alison’s hell, my dad’s, and my own clumsiness, I’ve been part of more procedures than anyone in their right mind would wanna be part of.

Walking out the door, I felt ok enough to just take the train back.

My brother just happened to be in town that day and offered to pick me up, but I declined.

Gotta tell you, there was something oddly and sadly fitting about going home alone after this procedure and thinking of how Alison went to get me the first time around.

Been in my head a lot lately causea the holidays but it’s not been all bad.

Before Alison and my dad got sick, I just happened to be doing a lotta reading into stoicism and the idea of amor fati, or loving fate.

It’s essentially accepting one’s fate.

I’ve been fighting everyone’s fate – including my own – for so long now that I’m tired and am ready to just slow-drown in my life.

Emphasis on slow…

Him: Are you ok, papa?
Me: OK’s a relative term, kid.
Him: Thank you for coming home and not dying.
Me: (fuck) I’ll always come home to you, kid. Dontcha ever worry about that. I’ll drag myself home to you if I have to, always.
Him: Promise?
Me: Pinky-swear. Always.

Location: home, with a tumbler of rum
Mood: def not sober
Music: boy, I believe in us (Spotify)
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Roaring back

Quickly and completely

It’s been an incredibly busy few weeks. But that’s only part of why I’ve been quiet lately.

My son’s eczema got triggered somehow and it roared back in the worst possible way.

It’s tough being a caretaker. All you can do, sometimes, is just watch and feel helpless. It’s a special type of agony.

To see him is such discomfort was heartbreaking.

He went to see the doc for a last-minute appointment and the doc tried to reassure me that he would simply grow outta it, but that didn’t really help.

And some stuff I tried made things worse, in a manner of speaking.

See, someone told me once that the beach was good for eczema so I had to go to beach a number of times to see if it would help and it both made the situation better and worse, for various reasons.

Eventually, it went away again but I also brought him back out to NJ to stay for a few days, partly because he wanted to go but also because I was hoping that being away from the city would help too.

While he was in beach, he called an old caretaker of his who told him she would call right back but didn’t.

Him: Why didn’t she call back?
Me: I don’t know. You didn’t do anything wrong. People are busy sometimes.
Him: She doesn’t like me.
Me: That’s not true at all and you know it. People are complex and there are so many other things involved that you don’t know. (gently) I’m sorry, kiddo. Hey, do you want burgers for dinner?
Him: Burgers, yay!

I just asked him about it tonight, right before bed, and he said he didn’t remember it, which gave me some relief.

I told him again that she was probably busy and cared a lot about him, to which he laughed and said that he knew.

The thing about me, and I guess him, is our immense capacity to forget.

I envy him, a bit.

The power to forget so quickly and completely is a wonderous thing. Sometimes.

Blessed are the forgetful, after all…

And his eczema’s gone again, which is even better. It actually went away a few days before he left for NJ. That’s the thing about flareups, sometimes, you have zero idea what caused them in the first place.

Plus, he’s home. Which is the best.

Location: caught in the hot rain, hoping that it’ll all gonna be ok
Mood: relieved
Music: Sunshine, I don’t mind salt in my hair and the sand in my toes (Spotify)
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Becoming a fatty-fat-fat

I’m a goddamn blast

My son cried this week because I’ve been out almost every night for the past two weeks or so.

Him: I never see you.
Me: I see you every day! We have brekkie together every morning, I get you from school, and we have hours together.
Him: It’s not enough!

Parental guilt is awful. Anywho, this is because, for the first time in years that I went back to my Never turn down an invitation, rule and I’m exhausted.

It’s off again, so don’t invite me anywhere. I’m done until January 2nd, 2022.

Also, I’m ten pounds heavier; I went from 141 to 151 pounds in two weeks. For reasons that will be readily apparent.

For the first time, I met someone with the kid…because she had a kid too. A pretty adorbs daughter.

The woman was exactly my type: Attractive, buxom, wealthy, coloured eyed, wealthy…I mentioned wealthy already.

But…

Her: I hope you don’t mind, I brought pasta for her. She only eats pasta.
Me: Wait, what? But we’re in a Chinese restaurant. In Chinatown. There’re noodles galore.
Her: She’ll only eat plain pasta with some cheese and oil. That’s it. Nothing else.
Me: No fruit? No veggies? What about fiber and protein?
Her: She just won’t do it. (later) He has his own room? That’s great! She does too but sleeps with me every night.
Me: (nodding as the girl begins to bang on the table)

Non. Starter.

I’m at an age when it’s just as important that someone be a match for the kid as she is one for me.

I also met up with my buddy Ollie, who’s actually a black belt in jits despite us starting at the same time. My old coach was just the pits.

That’s him, above, listening to Chad tell a story at the bar.

The plus of hanging out with Ollie – I’ve known him close to 30 years – was that he could corroborate a lotta the crazy stories that I tell people.

Me: Tell him about our buddy that has so much scratch that he covers an entire restaurant’s bill.
Ollie: Even better, I’ve got pics of his wedding. Did Logan ever tell you…
Me: (later) It’s been a long time, man.
Him: (nodding) I read about your wife. Well, I tried to. I couldn’t finish it, I kept crying.
Me: Yeah. You and me both.

On that note, both Chad and Mouse were out with us. Mouse and I got along a lot better, I think, than we had in the past year. It was really nice, TBH.

She showed me pics of her and the kid that I’d never seen before and I gave her a kiss on her cheek.

Me: Thank you for that.
Her: (shrugging) Sure. Google shows me these pics all the time.
Me: Send it to me, will you, please?

She was nice enough to give Chad and me a lift to the subway in my old whip. Once she dropped us off, he and I promptly each got two slices of $1 pizza.

Him: God. Dollar pizza is so good.
Me: I’m getting us another slice.

On the ride home, I got up so an older couple could sit together.

They were so grateful. I teared up a bit because they looked so in love. She was so happy to sit next to him and lay her head on his shoulder.

I wonder if I’ll ever have something like that when I’m their age.

The next day, my cousin Ras came by to roll for a bit. She wanted to take me out because she got a crazy promotion that I (kinda) helped out with.

But that’s a funny story so I’ll tell you that part tomorrow or sometime this week.

Today, I was out during the day doing…stuff. BUT, it was the first night I was going to be home for dinner in weeks.

The kid and I were going to have dinner together when both Chad and I got hit up by a buddy of ours at the gym. It was his birthday and he wanted us to go meet up with him in Koreatown.

While he did mention it previously, I don’t think people realize how much planning a parent – especially a single parent – needs to be social.

Him: I am having a small get together at Let’s Meat at 7:30 for my bday. Not really sure if I need to get a reservation for a Sunday night but lemme know so I can get a headcount.
Chad: Crap, you mentioned this yesterday. I’m hesitant to say yes because it’ll be clutch for me.
Him: One of you have to make it otherwise I will be unhappy.
Chad: Logan, this is your moment to become a hero.
Me: Wait, today? I don’t have a sitter. Dammit, I love KBBQ!
Him: I’ll let this one slide since you guys have been running the gym so well.
Me: Please, this was a non-vite – I woulda come had I gotten an earlier heads up, you rat bastard.

It’s just as well. I’m becoming a fatty-fat-fat.

Her: We’re right by you.
Me: Jesus Christ. I need lead time, lady. LEAD TIME!
Her: You’re no fun, Logan.
Me: With enough lead time, lady, I’m a goddamn blast.

Location: earlier today, asking her if she liked KBBQ
Mood: plump
Music: You’re something that I can’t forget (Spotify)
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Thinking the kid and I are awesome

Trying to simplify

Since we’re talking about parenting, right after I wrote the last entry, read about a dad in a helicopter, bear hugging his daughter as the helicopter went down.

The daughter was the only survivor. He used his own body as a cushion for her.

Him: Holy shit.
Me: Right?
Him: I see you doing something like that, Logan.
Me: Jesus Christ, let’s hope we never find out.
Him: Honestly, if women knew what kind of dad you were, they would beat your your door down.
Me: How do I tell people I’m a good dad?
Him: (laughing) Easy, just show them the kid.

I’m much more careful about who I introduce to him, though.

There was one blond, hazel-eyed girl who was one of the most dispassionately attractive women I ever dated.

But I kept my emotional distance from her because she made it clear that she too “didn’t mind” that I had a kid and definitely didn’t want any of her own.

Female friend: I think she’d meet the kid and fall in love with him. Everyone does.
Me: I can’t take that chance.
Her: Wait, so that’s it?
Me: Pretty much. 

Even when I was in the height of my dating frenzy in my 30s, the paramount thing that I was looking for was someone that would be a good mother.

Ideally, someone that was also brilliant and hot as blazes was a close second but being a good mother came first. Because being a good mother/parent subsumes most of the other stuff I’m looking for.

Hot as blazes not withstanding (brilliant is subsumed under “good parent”).

And just like then, I let a lot of really great women go in the hopes of getting someone awesome – that thinks the kid and I are awesome too.

Figure that’s worth waiting for. Everything else is just wasting time. Besides, I did it once before.

Plus, I actually have two acquaintances that are going through divorces right now because they married people that are not good mothers. Full-stop.

Both are pretty gutted about the whole thing – met one of the wives as well and thought she was pretty nice but we all have our three lives.

Him: I swear, she uses him as leverage against me and that’s all he’s worth to her.
Me: Are you sure you’re not exaggerating at all?
Him: I wish I was. I think maybe if the kid was white, it would be different…
Me: Holy crap, I didn’t even think about that!
Him: Yeah. Once her family got involved, it was over.
Me: (nodding) Oh man, I’ve been there before. If the family’s against you, you got zero chance.

Life is so complex these days. I wish there was some way to simplify it. Or maybe it’s me that making it so.

Him: Can I sit next to you?
Me: Sure. Why?
Him: (climbing up onto sofa) Cause you’re my papa!
Me: Well, alllrrriiight!

And now we switch pensive thoughts for some extreme violence: The above is Chad and me breaking down a little show called Squid Games.

Definitely don’t watch if you haven’t seen it yet since it’s chock fulla spoilers.

Man, did we have fun shooting that episode…

Location: on a couch with some homemade ramen and the kid
Mood: forgetful but happy
Music: they told me I don’t need to worry (Spotify)
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