What does it mean to raise a child? To successfully keep them alive until they reach a certain age that we feel comfortable saying they are on their own? Yes, keeping them alive is crucially important. You definitely shouldn’t skip that part of parenting. But that is also the baseline expectation, so assuming I strive to be more than the least amount of effective that a parent can be – what does successfully raising a child look like? Well, perhaps it doesn’t look like raising a child at all. It looks like raising an adult.
I recently heard a pastor that you aren’t raising children, you’re raising adults. The focus being on the long game, not just getting to 18 without major catastrophe. A parent’s job isn’t just to get a very tiny person to the point they are a full-sized person. A parent’s job is to make sure by the time their tiny person gets older, they are full-sized person with the skills and abilities (mental, emotional, and physical) to be a good, kind, and successful human being.
When I put it that way, this parenting stuff sounds pretty important. And really freaking hard.
The pastor took it a step further. That we aren’t just raising children, we are raising children raisers. How’s that for a long game? I’m not just turning small people into large, well-adjusted people, I’m prepping my kids to have the kind of grandchildren I want to put out into the world. Crazy to think about the kind of influence a parent can really have over the future generations. Good and bad.
Financially, poverty and wealth are both largely generational. But the same is true for moral wealth and poverty. Spiritual wealth and poverty. Philanthropic wealth and poverty. Any good thing, bad thing, or seemingly benign thing is passed down from one generation to the next, whether we try or not. They key is to try. If you don’t try to pass along the good on purpose, its too easy to pass along the bad by accident.
So I’m raising child raisers. I suppose it begs the question, can you teach a maternal or paternal instinct? I don’t know if teach is the right word, but I do think the situations you put your kids in can greatly influence their interest in if and how they a care for others. Part of it is the natural occurrence of birth order. From the day we brought home our second child, our oldest daughter has been our family’s little mommy. Sometimes it is very helpful. Sometimes she needs to be very clearly reminded that she is not actually the mother in our family. But in a way, we taught her that. We asked her for help with the baby, we put her in charge of a few things, we gave her stuffed animals that she should could be the mommy for.
Little mommy in action
You can’t have an older child without having a younger. Just the other day our younger daughter asked us if she had to have kids when she grew up. We told her no, she didn’t have to if she didn’t want to. She’s 6, so we also assured her that she has lots of time to figure that out. Lots. Then she brought it up a few days later, this time flat out saying that she didn’t want to have kids. Clearly this rattling around in her mind. Now that she is getting older, and is starting to take on more responsibility (she also asked about starting to get an allowance), has she realized how much work raising a little person to be a successful larger person is? And she has already decided she wants none of it.
On one hand, I have to say it made me a little sad to think she doesn’t want to make me a Pop Pop. But on the other hand, it is very on brand for her. She desires to live a pampered life, so the fact that she does not not want to have Pampers in her life makes total sense.
Our kids are still very young, and have no idea (I don’t think?) about where babies actually come from. So I take any decision they claim to make about it now with a very large amount of salt. Either way, it can’t change my approach to parenting them. I still need to model the behavior I want them to adopt. I still need to keep the long game in mind. I still need to avoid turning my small children in to fully grown children. I am raising women and a man.
On something of a side note, the concept of raising a man has seemed to come easier to me. My wife has always said that I’m harder on our son than I am on our daughters, and I’ll tell her that I’m raising him to be a man. That is not to say that being stricter on a kid will make them a man, or a woman for that matter, but it does get out of trap of babying your kids too much. The gendered flip-side to that coin is that my wife is unquestionably harder on our daughters, and our son is her sweet little baby.
Maybe that’s the strategy. She’ll raise women, I’ll raise man, and we’ll end up with adult children who are both fully equipped to raise children of their own and have deeply seeded mommy and/or daddy issues. A flawed plan to be sure, but Pop Pop gets his well behaved grand babies that way, so….
Perhaps this is a good time to remember that despite the power a parent yields to have generational influence, it is not about me. It is about my kids, and for them it will be about theirs. Expanding the circle more, it is about putting high quality individuals out into society in hopes that they shape it and not the other way around. I mean, have you looked around society much? Seems a lot of people have raised a lot of kids.
Let the spirit in you represent a man, an adult, a citizen, a Roman, a ruler.
Not a specific take how to frame your thoughts, actions you should take, or words you should or shouldn’t say, but something more broad here. Trying not just to define, but to direct that part of us that is often uniquely indefinable – our spirit. I think first it begs the question, is that something that is even under our control? Is the spirit within us baked into our very DNA? Is it possible to change the vibe we give off? To alter the certain quality we possess? It is if you try.
Knowing is half the battle, so having enough self awareness of how you represent yourself to others is essential. There can often be a disconnect between how we want to see ourselves, how we actually see ourselves, and how the world around us really does sees us. Before you can act, you must understand. Admittedly, it is easier to understand what we say and and what we do than to understand how we are. How does one sais quai one’s je ne sais quai? With intention.
If you are not intentionally acting as a man, adult, citizen, ruler, etc. then what is guiding your actions? Probably your impulses. And if you are acting based on whims, then how you represent yourself is being dictated by the situation, not by you. But this means more than just controlling the narrative about yourself. The goal here is not just to represent yourself in this manner, it is to truly live in this manner. We’re talking philosophy here, not public relations.
To represent yourself as a man, an adult, a citizen, a ruler, you actually need to develop the traits within yourself to think and consistently act as such, and then the accurate representation will follow. If you look like man, talk like a man, and act like man, then how could you represent yourself as anything else? Now, to really open a can of worms, how does one act like man? Or adult? Or citizen? Or ruler?
Marcus actually addresses with with the next line.
Taking up his post like a soldier and patiently awaiting his recall from life. Needing no oath or witness.
A man is defined by upholding his duty, embracing his mortality, creating his own motivations, and needing no external pressure to do what is right because he knows he is already sufficiently guided by his philosophy. I generally dislike soldier comparisons, but whatever your post, pick up your metaphorical weapon and stand guard. Probably not from an actual enemy, but from anything that will distract and divert from living a virtuous life.
Be a man because that is what’s required of you. Be an adult because that is what you are. Be a citizen because the common good is more important than an individual opinion. Be a ruler because you have things in your life that are in your care. Again, be that way, not just act that way. To act like a ruler doesn’t mean to come off as an over compensating “alpha” or domineering personality. Rule with care, compassion, humility, and a focus on the common good. Stand that post as a solder protecting, not invading.
You need to be the ruler of what is between your ears before you can rule anything else. Before you can be a citizen, adult, or man. When you have yourself right, then you will have a spirit that represents who you really are.
The decision to take out 7 year-old daughter to see a therapist was a lot easier than I guess I thought I would be. Several months ago, my wife brought up the idea and I questioned whether she really needed it or not. She got a recommendation but we didn’t do anything about it. A few weeks ago the idea came up again and I questioned how quickly we could get on the schedule.
My daughter feels her feelings. Deeply. She also expresses them. Loudly. The positive and the negative. She can get overcome and out of control with joy, and overwhelmed and slowed up by anger. Sometimes it’s a toss up on which one is harder to deal with. I don’t know how many times she’s been happy and silly and running around and we’ve told her, “Calm down or somebody is going to get hurt.” It’s not always fun to be right when you’re a parent. The anger is another issue. Eventually something can pull her back from her other emotional peaks, but her anger seems to feed into itself. I wouldn’t say she’s a mean girl, but when it comes to her anger, the limit does not exist.
This is me.
For not the first time, and certainly not last (just wait until puberty), I realize I am ill-equipped to handle this myself. I find the best way to deal with your feelings and emotions is not have them in the first place. I am the yin to my daughter’s yang in this sense. Perhaps our complimentary styles is why she very clearly prefers me over my wife. A parent can’t have a favorite kid, but it does not work the other way around. I read most of the bedtime stories, get sat next to most on the couch, and attempt to do most of the reasoning when she’s overcome with emotion. But as parents, safe to say that neither me or my wife are well-suited to handle her heightened emotional states. I lack the emotional understanding to understand why she doesn’t just calm down, and my wife lacks the patience for her behavior when she gets out of control.
That is probably the most frustrating thing. That we couldn’t take care of our daughter’s needs ourselves. No shame in needing professional help, but it would be much more convenient (and economical) if I could do it myself. Therapists and plumbers. Same-same. Perhaps instead of a communications degree I should have gotten a psychology degree and a plumbers license. Really be able to help people deal with their shit.
A major help in the decision process was my daughter herself. When the idea was first brought up, I wasn’t sure how to tell her what it was or how she’d respond. But after one of her extended outbursts, she wrote a note to my wife and I apologizing and asking for help. It’s a weird feeling to see our kids already more advanced than you at something, but I was very proud. So we made the appointment and told her she was going to go to a feelings doctor for a check-up.
My wife went with her to her first appointment. When they came home, my daughter had a few forms to fill out with questions about what makes her mad, how she feels when she gets man, stuff like that. One of the forms asked her to draw a picture of what it feels like when she gets angry. She struggled drawing a volcano, which angered her, and set her off on a spiral of anger that ended with a screaming fit and an early trip to bed. While it was disappointing that exactly none of what she just spend an hour talking about sunk in, I absolutely appreciated the irony of the situation.
I went with her to her next appointment, and I was curious to see how it would go. Turns out I’d go as far as the lobby. She told me she wanted to go in by herself this time. So while I got no insight into what she talked about other than a new set of worksheets, I did see the same behavior repeated afterward. Another therapy session, another meltdown. I understand there is a process to trust here, but could she at least wait 24 hours after her therapist visit to be uncontrollably upset? When she finally did calm down, I asked her if there was something she talked about with the feelings doctor about what just happened. She said no, not that exact example. If we are waiting until the doctor brings up every possible scenario in which my daughter could be upset, she’ll at least be out of the college I won’t be able to afford to send her to because I spent what would have been her college money on feelings doctor appointments until the possible situations are covered. That’s one hell of a process not covered by insurance to trust.
On my end, I don’t know if I’m supposed to have any expectations yet. So far when I’ve tried to counter her emotional spikes by referencing something from one of the worksheets she brings home or ask her what she talked about with the doctor, it just seems to make her more upset. My hope is that it’s making her upset because she realizes that, yes, she did talk about it, and her frustration with herself for not applying it is being redirected to me. If that is the case, what am I to do? Just let it slide and let her vent her anger while she learns? Or hold her to the same behavioral expectations that her younger brother and sister are held to? If the younger kids see that mom and dad let her throw tantrums, how am I supposed to correct them when they don’t behave?
I don’t want to punish her having emotions, but I still need to punish the inappropriate behavior that they create. If I can barely get my mind around how to walk that line, how can I expect my kids to understand the difference?
The silver lining here is, my daughter likes to go. Rather than skip her appointment that would be missed for spring break, she wanted to try to reschedule. There is no stigma, no shame, and she knows she isn’t broken or anything. She also knows she isn’t the only kid her class that goes to the feelings doctor. When I was in second grade I bonded with my friends by talking about our WWF action figures. Perhaps my daughter will bond by talking about the best ways to recognize and react to her emotions in various social settings. Evolution in a generation.
As I stood over the the ruined pan of brownies, picking the chewy bits of the overly cooked edges from my teeth, I thought to myself, “Is this what I’ve become?”
As I’ve mentioned before, a considerable part of a dad’s diet consists of somebody else’s uneaten chicken nuggets, but it extends far beyond that. Sometimes it’s food the kids didn’t want. Sometimes it’s anybody’s leftovers that need to be eaten soon or they’ll go bad. Sometimes it’s simply whatever happens to be sitting on the counter when I’m walking through the kitchen. If it’s food and it’s there, dad will eat it. A stereotype that for me is absolutely true.
The obvious reason is not wanting to waste the food, but I think on some level it is a dad’s way to laying claim to and taking back what was once rightfully his. Kids take. Your time, your money, arguably years off your life. Sometimes taking the food literally out of your hand. Perhaps subconsciously, taking the rest of that half-eaten, slightly soggy bagel off of their plate and into my mouth is a dad’s way to taking back. I may not be able to get the hours I’ve spent watching unenthusiastic soccer practices back, but I sure as hell can get second half of that cheeseburger back.
There is almost something inherently primitive to it. Some need to establish dominance over the children and let them know that I run the cave here, they just live here. I provide you the food and I can take it away. Reinforcement that their lives still depend almost entirely on me. Classic show of parental force. Sometimes mothers eat their young, sometimes fathers eat their young’s pizza because they complained that the sauce was too spicy.
My wife likes to bake, so before there were kids in the house every spoon, spatula, and bowl was licked clean by this guy. Now we’ve got three little people all begging for their taste. I’m lucky to get get a scrap of batter stuck to a teaspoon. But if they think they can leave their birthday cakes unattended, they’ve got another thing coming. Or going as it were. In my mouth. Because I’m eating it. My kids are all well aware that if there was a treat when they went to bed and no treat when they woke up in the morning that dad ate it. Well, I bought the bed they were sleeping in while I demolished their cake, so we’ll call it even.
20 slices of bologna on white bread – classic TV dad meal
While I very much fit the stereotype that dad will eat it, I do resist the stereotype of what is considered “dad food.” I’m sure the idea that dad wants meat and potatoes applies to a portion of the dads out there, but I have to believe that there are many others like me out there who’d rather have fish than meat and hopes those potatoes are sweet potato fries. Not that I don’t like meat. A Chicago style hot dog is a thing of beauty. Some barbecue ribs or brisket is one of life’s great pleasures. But I think we can do a little better for a Father’s Day meal than burgers or steak. Why is it that the stereotypical dad food is a slab of beef? What are we saying about dads? Why are our celebratory meals designed to appeal to our most primitive dietary instincts? Can a dad not be congratulated with some black bean enchiladas?
One dad food stereotype that I can’t seem to get past despite my best efforts is that dad doesn’t like healthy food. For the most part, I eat very healthy. Lots of veggies, fresh food, clean eating. And it’s not because my wife is nagging me to. Sure, she has introduced me to most of my current eating habits, but it’s not like she needs to hide a banana in my cheeseburger like I’m Ron Swanson. It’s not like I’m choking down broccoli on doctors orders to watch my cholesterol. First, I really like broccoli. Second, I’m pretty sure the doctor prescribing vegetables for dad’s high cholesterol was something that only exists in sitcoms for the sake of setting up the scene where the dad has to choke down broccoli. Because clearly there is no other way a dad would eat vegetables. I guess dad taking a pill before bed just isn’t funny. Anyway, the catch is, I do eat really healthy, until I don’t.
Which takes us back to the ruined pan of brownies. To be fair, these were ruined mostly textually and aesthetically. Were they something you’d want to present to Paul Hollywood? Absolutely not. Were they edible? 100%. So as I separated out the properly cooked and mildly crispy bits from the unset mush, all the while denying my begging kids the opportunity of their own to try some, I thought to myself, “Is this what I’ve become?”
Then I realized, no, this is not what I’ve become. This is what I’ve always been. The same me that licked the spatula clean before I had kids is the same me that embarks on a salvage and rescue mission in a failed attempt at new brownie recipe. Is the need to take back food from my kids a true stereotype of fathers? Yes. However, the need to eat as healthy as I possibly can to compensate for the times I can’t help myself from eating an entire cake in a day has nothing to do with stereotypical dad behavior. It’s stereotypical fat kid behavior. So the child that brought this on wasn’t mine, it was me.
My eating habits are a confluence of two stereotypes – dad and fat kid. I guess I’m alright with that. No food goes to waste, I try hard to stay in shape, and I make the absolute most of my cheat days. So here I am now, eating broccoli for lunch and success for breakfast, with skim milk. Actually almond milk, but if you know you know.
I would say to a certain extent this one comes a little naturally to me. If I’ve got something to say, I’ll say it. If I don’t, I won’t. However, when it comes to my kids, I find that I often have to use extra words just so they can understand what I’m saying.
When trying to communicate a point to 5 year-old, over-explanation is probably the appropriate amount of explanation. A simple command is often not understood just because they literally don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a small child try to help you build or work on something, but you have to add roughly 18 words to your request for them to hand you a Phillips head screwdriver. So perhaps it’s best not to look at surplus from a perspective of volume, but of need.
I’ve noticed this recently when correcting my kids when they do something they shouldn’t. How often is too often? How many little things would be just as fine if I let them slide? I know for sure that after too many little corrections, they all become white noise. As a parent you really need to learn to pick your battles, but just as important is picking the words that could lead to the next battle.
Not to focus just on the negative, it is also important to measure your positive words. I’ll freely give out a high five, a good job, a that’s awesome, or generally any kind of positive reinforcement over pretty routine stuff. I get that when a kid is small and first learning how to do things like put their own socks on or wash their hands, giving that positive feedback is important to encourage the behavior. But after the two-hundredth time a kid takes their dirty plate to the sink after dinner, does that still require any more positive feedback? Not that I don’t want encourage continued good behavior, I also don’t want them to expect to be padded on the back for everything thing, especially as they get older.
It reminds me of a scene from Whiplash where the band director says the two most harmful words are “good job.” Literally, as I sit here at my kitchen table writing this, my 5 year-old is sitting next me to making rubber band bracelets with her sister and she turns to me and shows her progress. As a complete reflex I told her “good job.” I didn’t even look at her bracelet long enough to know if she was doing it right. I just fired out the complement. I mean, sure, make a little girl feel good about herself as she learns how make something. But what about when she starts doing actual graded school work?
My 7 year-old is in that boat now. She’ll bring home a story she wrote and half the words will be spelled wrong, but the story itself is a good expression of what she wanted to communicate. So do I say good job on writing the story, or hold back the surplus praise and point out the errors to correct? For sure a balance to find – appropriate praise and appropriate correction, but a surplus of neither.
I think I tend to lean the opposite direction when it comes to actions. In an effort to avoid what I think is unnecessary, do I not do enough? I’ve always tried to say yes when my kids asked if I can play with them, because I find that necessary. But in the everyday things, do I do enough to lead by the example of my actions? Is it necessary that I watch one more TV show? Is it necessary to have one more beer? Is it necessary to be pushed over the edge by one more kid screaming? I sometimes forget that it is the everyday, seemingly forgettable actions that can leave just as much as impression on my kids as the big, teachable moments.
Are all of my routine actions necessary? I bet if I really looked at it, probably not. And if it adjusted my behaviors would I now have more time, more energy, more focus to apply elsewhere? Probably. So, what really is necessary? It probably depends on the day, but keeping that in mind and adjusting appropriately is likely a life-long practice, so I might as well start now.
In my most recent pass through Meditations, this section caught my eye in a way it didn’t before. When I first read it, I didn’t so much as underline it. This time I circled it in bright orange highlighter. A clear, concise guide on how to to act. A more practical application of philosophy you will not find. There are six parts, but don’t worry – none of them are longer than a few sentences.
Never under compulsion, out of selfishness, without forethough, with misgivings.
As a parent, never acting out of compulstion can be a challenge. Especially when it comes to disciplining your kids. I want to act in the moment. I want hit (or more accurately bite) them back when they hit me. When they make some kind of sassy comment I want to be a smart ass right back to them. But I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t, but there is still the compulsion to. The base level of parental EQ is to recoginze the impulse to snap at your kids before you do it. Easier said than done sometimes, but somethign to strive for.
Compulsive action isn’t only a detreiment in negative situations. How many times have you gotten the kid ice cream, a toy, new [fill in the black] becase you felt complelled to do so. It could very well come from a well-intentioned place. Maybe you’re just so overwhelmed with love for your kid you just can’t tell them no when they ask for dessert even though they didn’t eat all of their dinner. Maybe you’re so filled with guilt for missing their baseball game that when they ask for a new toy (even though their room is filled with toys they’ve forgotten about and don’t play with) you can’t help but get it for them. If we are in control of our thoughts and actions, then even if we are compelled to perform a seemingly positive act, we must resist. Whether an act of discipline or love, act becase you know it’s right, not because you feel compelled to in the moment.
Acting out of selfishness as a parent may sometimes feel necessary. After spending all day dealing with every single need your kid has at any given moment, is it really selfish to want just an hour of quiet time for yourself? If getting that hour of quiet means not being there for your kids if they really need you, then yes. But where is the line? If I want a few minutes by myself to read, should I stop mid-sentence if my kid asks for a glass of water, which I know they can get themself? Proably not. But should I snap at them to leave me alone and get it themself? Should I get frustrated with them when they want to spend time with me? When they want to play a game with me?
There is often a fine line between being present for your kids and being involved in their lives, and letting them dictate your day. Your life is still yours. Your time still belongs to you. But the second you have a kid, your time must be shared. Not given. But not hoarded either.
Parents exhibit forethought everyday. Telling your kids not to do that because somebody will end up getting hurt sound familar? And when somebody does inevitebly come crying becasue they didn’t stop doing whatever they were doing and did, in fact get hurt, you can give a satisfying I told so. But having the forethought to stop your kids from jumping on the couch is easy compared to the forethought of something like the habits our kids pick up from watching us. The things we do on a daily basis without any thought are things our kids will see, and probably mimic. Not that you want to overthink everything you do, but giving some thought to some thigns you do doesn’t seem to much to ask of yourself.
I’ve heard it said that if somebody asks you to do something, the answer should either be “Hell yes!” or “no.” If you are on the fence, if you have misgivings about taking an action – don’t. Be confident and committed in your decisions. If you aren’t, then where is there harm in continuting to think about it? In exploring a different solution? While we never know the outcomes of our choices, we should at least be making our decisions confidently. Have a bad feeling about the kinds of kids your kid is hanging out it? Not sure if that school is right for you kids? Feeling guilty about how much screen time you let your kids have? It is easy to question yourself as a parent, but if those questions raise legitimate concerns, then don’t ignote them. And don’t act if doing so compromises your better judgement or goes against your virtues.
For me the key here is being aware. Aware of your thoughts in the moment, and aware of your reprocusions of your actions. Not everything we do needs to be put under the microsope, but if we focus on it now and practice acting for the right reasons in the right way, then eventually it will just become the way we act. No extra thought required.
With the launch of enrichment provider Brains & Motion Education (BAM!), I now have a great idea on how to keep my kids entertained this summer. BAM! is a tech-enabled company unlocking the potential of students year-round, through not only after-school and structured recess, but summer camps too. With STEM, arts, and sports programs, they provide a much better alternative for my kids than rewatching the same episode of Spidey and His Amazing Friends for the hundredth time. As the only nationwide provider with a focus on whole-child development, BAM! aims to stimulate young minds while keeping growing bodies joyfully active. And joyfully occupied while I’m working from home and they aren’t at school.
I think formal education should inspire kids and prepare them for the future. Beyond learning basic skills like reading and writing, kids also need to build social and emotional skills, confidence, and subject matter expertise through a wide variety of hands-on, project-based activities. However, if you ask me (and my kids), too much of the school day is boring for students. This could be due to constraints caused by a perhaps overly structured system, school districts stressed out from teacher shortages, and teachers struggling to provide individualized instruction to large groups of students. Perhaps more importantly, more than 25 million students have no place to go after school and lack access to additional opportunities to develop skills outside of the school day.
“Many schools would love to teach students how to play chess, program robots, develop computational thinking skills, create sophisticated digital artwork, become strong creative writers, and provide students with meaningful exposure to artificial intelligence systems through project-based learning,” said Bart Epstein, BAM!’s CEO. “There just isn’t enough time in the school day. These types of enrichment activities can and should be available to every student, regardless of their zip code.”
Epstein, like many successful people, credits much of his success in life to the teachers who sparked his curiosity and confidence. In his case, it was through an after-school aviation and rocketry enrichment program. Twenty years later, he became a commercial pilot and civilian test pilot for NASA, and then an educator and entrepreneur. I’m pretty sure my kids won’t fly for NASA (they can barely handle a rollercoaster), but they could absolutely benefit from the confidence gained in growing their skills in this kind of enrichment program.
The BAM! leadership team features other executives with letters in their job titles and extensive experience driving growth, scale, and successful implementations, including COO Kristopher Kasper, CMO Christina Yu, VP of Sales Lori Todd, VP of Product Jody Nova, and CFO Jennifer Thresher. Told you there’d be letters.
Due in part to the success of its after-school programs, BAM! Is getting tons of interest in its summer 2024 camp programs. These include RoboKids, GameCraft, and MakersQuest which reflect new career exploration curriculum and new interdisciplinary STEAM programs, including animation, game design, creative writing, and machine learning. While my kids may never fly to space, my seven year-old daughter would absolutely love a creative writing program where she can write about space. Or probably more accurately, write about puppies.
Beyond summer break, I’d love to see these kinds of programs offered in my kids’ school district. I think high-quality enrichment that includes a mix of physical activity and hands-on learning addresses a variety of learning challenges in an easy, practical, and cost-effective way. “Providing our families with access to enrichment activities after 3 pm and during dedicated break times throughout the academic day helps us with some of the biggest problems in education at a fraction of the cost of formal education and at a small percentage more than basic after-care,” said Lesem Puerto, Community School Partnership Manager at the Children’s Institute. “Students who attend inspiring project-based enrichment programs during recess and lunch, and beyond, are more engaged during the school day. That’s something that we all love to see.”
The company currently has a presence in ten key regions – notably San Francisco, San Diego, New York, Chicago, Boston, Denver, and Seattle – and intends to scale its after-school, summer camp, and structured recess programs nationwide.
BAM! is supported by institutional investors including New Markets Venture Partners, LearnStart, Sand Hill Angels, Women’s Venture Capital Fund, JFFVentures, and Entrepreneurs Roundtable Accelerator, whose collective investments in the venture now total more than $18 million.
The company’s Board includes Gerard Robinson (former Secretary of Education in Virginia and Commissioner of Education in Florida), Juan Zavala (New Markets Venture Partners), Mark Chernis (Princeton Review, SchoolNet, Pearson), and Rob Cohen (2U, Princeton Review, Oasis). No word yet on if I’ll be invited to the next board meeting, though I’ll offer to bring the donuts.
“We believe there is strong demand for BAM!’s products and are excited to support the company in driving improved academic outcomes and equitable access to enrichment beyond the school day for students across the country”, said Juan Zavala, Principal at New Markets Venture Partners, the lead investor in BAM!. “Bart and his leadership team have deep industry expertise and experience in scaling solutions for student success. Their mission is perfectly aligned with New Markets Venture Partners’ double-bottom line investment goals.”
“In after-school and summer programs, students are given the chance to discover their strengths, explore their interests, and connect the dots between disciplines in a safe, supportive, and fun environment,” said Gerard Robinson, now professor of practice at the UVA Batten School of Leadership and Public Policy, and former Virginia Secretary of Education.
I know that summer should have time for kids to be kids, but I also want what is best for my kids in the long run. Will they thank me later for letting them drink right from the hose in the backyard? Maybe. Will they thank me if they find and develop their passion through one of BAM!’s programs? I sure hope so.
Ever since our kids took an interest in Disney movies, my wife and I have been excited to take them to Disney World. In between an easy drive there and a painful drive back, we spent a week at The Happiest Place on Earth. I had gone as a kid myself, and as a kid-less adult, but but this would by my first time going as a dad. There were differences. Some good, some not so good. Here’s a few things that stood out to me.
Strollers: Lifesaver or Pain?
When we first decided to go, I didn’t plan on taking a stroller. My kids are seven, five, and three. I thought my seven year-old daughter should be able to walk the whole time, my five year-old daughter should be able to walk most of the time, and my three year-old son should be able to walk some of the time. I would be ok with giving them shoulder rides or piggy back rides the times they needed a break. I get it, it’s a lot of walking, but they run around all day, surely walking is easier than running, skipping, dancing, hopping and all the other ways they get from here to there, right?
Well, my wife made the good case that a stroller would be helpful so that at least one kid at a time could take a rest while we still make our way through the parks, and it gives us a place to store our stuff – snacks, water bottles, sweatshirts, etc. In that aspect, it was very handy. However, it also gave the kids something to beg for and fight about.
Once they knew that they had the option to ride in the stroller rather than walk, they wanted it. I think if they never had the option in the first place, would they have asked just as much to be picked up, or would they have just walked? I guarantee they would have begged just as much to be picked up. I know this because even though we had the stroller for them to take turns in, whoever wasn’t in the stroller at the moment was begging to be picked up. Bringing the stroller avoided absolutely zero complaining. If they weren’t complaining about how it should be their turn, they were complaining that it was unfair that their turn was too short, or they were complaining that they wanted up if they couldn’t be in the stroller. It was lose-lose.
The major pros of bringing the stroller was storage and a mechanism to create a gap in a crowd. Just a guy walking down the crowded street and you’ve gotta cram your way between people. Guy pushing a stroller with a kid in it comes down a crowded street and people move over lest they get their toes run over.
Shopping for Souvenirs: A Crash Course in Economics
Before we left, we got a $50 gift card for each kid to use to buy themselves souvenirs. Whatever they wanted to pick out (within reason) was fair game as long it fit their budget. Lucy, my seven year-old, has developed a concept for money and value since she started getting an allowance. She knows how much money she has, but is still developing an understanding of what things cost. More specifically, the difference between something that is expensive and something that isn’t. For example, she assumed the Fairfield Inn we stayed at on the way to Disney World was a better and more expensive hotel than the on-property resort we stayed at once we got there, because the room was bigger and it had a continental breakfast. Lobby waffles do not an expensive hotel make.
On our first day there we went to the World of Disney store, which had everything they could have ever asked for, and more. So naturally they all said they wanted the first thing they saw. We told them to think about it, we’ll take a picture of it, and if in three days you still really want it, we’ll come back and get it. From that moment on, Lucy was keenly aware of all the different number combinations that add up to 50. She was adding values in her head faster than I can. If she doesn’t get an A in math I’m going to recommend adding souvenir shopping be added to the curriculum.
After three days and trips in and out of many stores, she had what she wanted picked out to the penny. She came to very seriously, and let me know that she was $1 over, and asked if she could borrow a dollar. Yeah kid, the last dollar (and really the first 50) is on me. Clearly she hadn’t covered sales tax in math class yet, but I wasn’t going to ruin the moment.
While Lucy learned to check price tags, my wife and I forgot. When Evie, our five year-old, picked out what she wanted we just said sure. When we got to the checkout we discovered she was $20 over budget. Way too late now to tell her change her mind or put something back, so she came out ahead on that one. Though, to be fair, the cost of what she ate on the trip was by far the lowest. The benefits of being a cheap date I suppose. But if she ate more than a single slice of cheese pizza for dinner, we’d have put one of her stuffies back for sure.
Brooks, my three year-old, has absolutely no concept of money. Do you buy things with money or trade hugs? Who’s to say? He’s also the easiest to manipulate into choices – “Buddy, don’t you really want this?!” Of course he does! However, one running theme of the trip was his newfound love of Pluto. As soon as he saw the shelf of stuffed Plutos, his little mind was made up. Which is fine, it still left him some wiggle room in his budget, which of course we once again miscalculated. No worries, he to was on the single slice of cheese pizza diet.
Is it hard to stick to a pre-determined budget? Yes. Are things there overpriced? Absolutely. Is it worth it? Debatable. I know money can’t buy happiness, but it sure can buy a stuffed Pluto. And if this isn’t happiness, then I don’t know what it.
Hills and Splashes: A Child’s Worst Fears
We knew going into it that some rides just weren’t going to happen, either do to lack of interest or lack of height. I had no expectations of the kids riding Space Mountain, the new Tron coaster, Mission to Mars, Test Track, or generally anything without songs that goes fast, goes in the dark, or goes fast in the dark. I did not, however, anticipate such fear of getting lightly splashed.
The first ride we did was also the first ride to be ruined by a mild amount of moisture. On the Ratatouille ride, the imagineers created a very immersive experience in which you go through a kitchen from the perspective of a rat. At one point somebody is mopping the floor and the mop gets flung in your direction, sending a light spay in your face. For some, a fun appeal to the senses that further adds to the experience. For a small child – a ride ruiner. I get it. Getting wet when you don’t want to be is a bad time. I’ve very anti-water balloon for that reason. But while I can accept it as part of the ride, Brooks couldn’t get over it.
A similar experience would get the Pirates of the Caribbean off to a rough start. In the mildly quick drop that starts the boat ride and sends a small splash up in the air, some spray ends up going in the boat. Some of that spray ended upon on son. Combo that with a downhill drop, and he wasn’t having it. Catchy song be damned, him enjoying that ride never stood a chance. He would later say that he didn’t like the ride because the pirates had creepy eyes, but I’m convinced the tone was set when he got a few drops on him that he didn’t want.
For some of the rides, they got some exposure to them ahead of time. I have some Little Golden Books about Pirates of the Caribbean, The Haunted Mansion, It’s a Small World, and Imagination (Figment). In the case of Pirates and The Haunted Mansion, they really came in handy. We suspected those may be too scary at parts for the little ones, so it was good to show it to them as fun books first. I think it really helped, especially for The Haunted Mansion. However, there is no book that can prepare a kid for a roller coaster. I knew Space Mountain wasn’t going to happen, but I never would have guessed that Big Thunder Mountain would be so terrifying.
To be fair to my kids, they have never been on a roller coaster before, or even the crappy little rides at fairs. Not that Big Thunder Mountain is very big or very fast compared to other rides out there, but when it is a kid’s very first experience, it might as well be a rocket ship to Mars.
Two kids crying, but at least nobody threw up.
I sat in one seat with Lucy, my wife sat in the row behind us with the younger two. Lucy really enjoyed it. I know she was scared too, but it was the fun mix of excited and scared that makes roller coaster fun. She screamed, she giggled, she had a blast. The scene that unfolded behind us was much different. From the first drop and the first quick turn, there were screams and tears. Every time I glanced back it got worse. By the end of the ride the two were huddled together, arms around each other, and my wife’s arms around were both of them. They didn’t look so much like they were riding a small-ish roller coaster as they were going down aboard the Titanic trapped in steerage. I did hear some laughter coming from behind. From my wife. Who found the abject terror our children were experiencing hilarious.
The thrilling ride of a leisurely tour of Tomorrowland.
After they tearfully stumbled their way off the ride and into my arms, it took a solid five minutes and a snack to get them to calm down. For the rest of the trip, before we got on anything my son would ask me if it had any hills or splashes.
“No buddy, the monorail does not have any hills or splashes.”
His favorite rides by far were Its a Small World and the Tomorrowland People Mover. I suppose there is something to be said about slow and steady.
We’re All In This Together
I remember going to Disney World with my wife before we had kids and casually walking past parents scolding their children, or pretending I didn’t see the kid flailing around on the floor of the candy store throwing a tantrum. At the time, I couldn’t understand how a kid could manage to get so upset at Disney World. My perspective is much different now. But the good thing is, I still noticed all those same things and it was nice to see other parents in the same boat (with hopefully no splashes).
The daily ice cream break. You’ll notice the pending freak out on my son’s face because it is his sister’s turn for a stroller break.
While adults have the mental capacity to realize they are on vacation and adjust their behavior, kids can’t. The same stupid crap that gets them upset at home is the same stupid crap that will set off a tantrum in line for Buzz Lightyear Space Ranger Spin. Which is where my son up and punched me in the bean bag because…well, who knows? Kids are going to freak out because they are over stimulated, because they are tired of waiting in line, because their bedtime hasn’t existed in four days, because they had too much ice cream, because you told them no, you can’t have more ice cream, because they dropped their ice cream (basically ice cream = freak out), and a hundred other reasons. They care not that they are in the middle of a magical vacation. My kids, your kids, all the kids. For a parent, there is comforting solidarity in it.
If anything, the perfectly behaved child is the outlier. For example, while waiting in line to meet Tiana and Rapunzel, Brooks fell down and skinned his knee. How one manages to fall down with enough force to draw blood while standing in line, I do not know, but it happened. Naturally, we were completely unprepared. The wipes and band-aids were in the stroller parked somewhere by the carousel. Side note: if you think it’s easy to forget where you parked your car at the store, try remembering where you parked your stroller at Disney World. Anyway, scooped up the boy and stayed in line while my wife went out to get our stuff.
While I stood there trying to calm down my son who was crying like he just got off a roller coaster that also spritzed him in the face, a lovely (and incredibly well prepared) mother who was in line behind us gave me a wet wipe and a band-aid that she had. On top of that, her daughter (who was probably 5 or so) gave my son one of her snacks to help calm him down and “make him happy.” I guess if there is a good place for your kid to meltdown, it’s in front of the nicest people in the Magic Kingdom. With such a display of kindness, I couldn’t help but think that there is a zero percent chance my kids would have done the same. I can only hope that at some point in her trip, that sweet little girl lost her mind over the fact that her mom got her a Little Mermaid bubble wand when she really wanted a Cinderella.
The kids have no idea who this is.
So going with kids was a completely different vacation experience than going without. Really, it felt like it was their vacation and I was just invited along to carry things and pay for things. But that’s ok. That’s probably about what 50% of parenting is anyway, so I might as well do it while Mickey Mouse comes to my table while I eat my non-lobby waffles. Much like Christmas with kids, the best part now is watching them experience it. And meeting Jack Sparrow.
When my wife and I told people we were taking the kids to Disney World, they all said “They are going to have so much fun!” When we told them we were driving, they said, “Oh….Good luck.” Luck? Who needs luck on a 1,200 mile drive when you’ve got a rubbermaid bin full of snacks and a plan. Turns out we did.
Driving to Disney World: Fueled by Joy and Caffeine
We knew the drive would have it’s challenges, but to be fair, flying with my family had been challenging as well. We made a plan for the drive down, and I have to say, it was solid. We picked the kids up from school, made them pee, and then hit the road. We would drive all night while the kids slept and be in Florida when they woke up. The plan pretty much worked as perfrectly as we could have hoped. The only issue was when my 5 year-old daughter, Evie, fell asleep way too soon. She went from literally screetching with excitement as we pulled out of the driveway to sleeping in her car seat only an hour down the road. Clearly, the excitement got the best of her.
Van packed and headed for Disney World…I wish I didn’t know now what I didnt know then.
Flash forward to the wee small hours of the night when the other two kids are asleep but Evie’s eyes are aglow in the backseat. Staring back at you as you glance in the rearview mirror like a painting of somebody with eyes that seem to follow you around the room. Creepy? Adorable? Adorably creepy? Yes.
Lucy, my seven year-old daughter, tried to stay awake longer than she should have to check on when we were going into a new state. Much to her disappointment, Indiana and Georgia are both very tall. She slept through the quicker border crossings of Kentucky and Tennessee. At least 4 times she woke up to ask what state we were in only to be told “Still Georgia.” And that is with breezing through Atlanta at 4:00 am with zero traffic.
On the trip down, Georgia ended up being my shift. My wife prefers to drive rather than be the passenger. Partly because she doesn’t want to get carsick, but I think mostly because she doesn’t want to be the one to have to be reaching and/or climbing into the backseat to deal with the kids. She did an awesome job crushing cans of ice coffee and making it from Michigan to just north of the Tennessee/Georgia border in one shot. At about 1:00 am I stopped for the biggest coffee you can get at a Circle K and got behind the wheel. A few Bob Seger and Garth Brooks albums later, the sun was coming up, our plan was a sucess, and everybody had to pee.
Driving Home: So This is What Hell Is Like
The trip home from any vacation sucks. Everybody is sad to leave, nobody wants vacation to end, and certainly nobody wants to spend another 18 and half hours in a van. Well, to our surprise, we didn’t spend another 18 and half hours in a van, we spend another 21. I think. I don’t know, I lost count.
The plan for the drive back was not to do it all at once. Because of the time we’d leave, driving all the way meant driving almost all the way with kids awake. Our goal was to get from Disney World to Nashville day one, then get back to Michigan day two. A very reasonable plan. However, our plan didn’t account for vomit.
The First Vomit: My Daughter Pukes
Was it being cramped in a hot car? Was it some side effect of the pink eye she had started to come down with earlier in the week? Was something off with her breakfast? Perhaps some combination of all of the above. Either way, whatever was going on in Evie’s stomach set us off on a nightmare path through Georgia.
The ride back started fine. We were delayed a bit by a too early potty break (perhaps an early warning sign that all was not digestively well?), but we were in as good as a mood as people who were driving away from 70 degree weather toward 20 degree weather could be. Then the complaints of “my tummy hurts” started bellowing up from the back seat. Uh oh.
I will say this – she hung in there. There was at least a solid hour from the time she started saying she didn’t feel good until she couldn’t hold it in anymore. But alas, there she blew. Amazingly, her tiny little mommy instincts kicked in and she was able to throw her stuffies to dry safety before she threw up. While throwing up in the first third of an 18 hour car ride is bad, it would have been so much worse had she covered her newly purchased Disney souvenirs in vomit. Worse for me I mean. Don’t know that it would have made a difference for her. I know how much those things cost.
We got her cleaned up in a McDonalds bathroom and aired out the van. She felt better, but the delay pushed our timeline back again. This time there was no way around it, we were going to hit Altlanta during rush hour traffic.
No Time for Shoes: An Emergency Bathroom Stop
Let me start this section by presenting an idea. Let’s go full Sherman and burn Atlanta back to the ground. When we rebuild it, let’s start by putting in a 20 lane highway running through the rubble so people can get the hell through the city in under 2 hours. In stark contrast to the breeze through town at 4 am, we had a 2 and a half hour slog at 4:30 pm. We streamed a movie on my wife’s phone to entertain the kids, but the full length of Moana was no match for urban sprawl in the heart of the peach state. Right about as Moana was wrapping up, my three year-old boy frantically had to pee, and the bellows of sore stomachs started again. We were not yet to the northern half of Atlanta’s sprawl.
Try as it might, the Waze app was no match for the traffic it tried to avoid. In an effort to avoid going right through the heart of the city, it set us on a roundabout path around the outskirts. While we never came to a dead stop, we definitly didn’t subtract any time by adding distance. As we meandered around the Eastern edge of the city my son, Brooks, had to pee. Naturally, as we were no longer on the main route through town, there were also no exits every other mile that had bathrooms. By the grace of God, there was one lone Pull-up shoved all the way in the back off van that had yet to be cleaned out in the year since he’s been potty trained. (Score one point for “I’ll get around to that eventually!”)
So I climbed back to him and changed him into it as we faught our way throught traffic. All the while being very appologitic and ensuring him that he is still a big boy, this is just in case, and he doesn’t need to feel bad if he has to go in the pullup. Nothing sends a mixed message to child like giving them the thumbs to pee themselves after years of insisting otherwise.
Luckily we got to a gas station before he had to pee. Unluckily for us, in the rush to get him to the bathroom there was no time to put his pants or shoes back on. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever been into a gas station bathroom, but off all the places on Earth that you wouldn’t want to walk barefoot, gotta be top three. And wouldn’t you know it, this particular bathroom was pretty gross, even by gas station bathroom standards. (I hope they take the one-star Google review as an opporunity to address some areas for improvement. I somehow doubt that very much.) As soon as I walked in I saw a sizable puddle of what could only be urine on the floor. Not setting this kid down for sure.
At first I thought I could hold him in the air as he peed down into the toilet, but the hold was very awkward and he was freaking out. Best case scenario he was going to pee on me. I decided to daddy-daughter dance this thing. I had him put is feet on top of my shoes, and we moved and peed as one. Pants-less and with a refreshingly empty blatter, we got my son back in the car. But we were not out of Atlanta, or the woods, yet.
The Second Vomit: My Son Spews
As an astute reader, I’m sure you realized that by previously mentioning a first vomit that there would be a second. Oh yes, there would be a second.
As we finally made our way northward out of Atlanta, all three kids were back to complaining about their stomachs. Emergency puke recepticals were passed around. Evie, God bless her, said she would share hers with her brother. She would use one side of the clamshell take out box, and Brooks could puke in the other side if he needed to. That’s f-ing teaming.
Apparently my son did not pick up on the fundamental purpose of the puke box. His little tummy could take no more, and out its contents came. Nowhere near the box which was holding in his hands. By the time he got he box up to his face, 90% of the puke was in his lap or making its way in to the crevaces of his car seat. Ya know, you never realize just how many crevaces a car seat has until you’re cleaning puke out of it in a McDonalds parking lot. Also, we never eat at McDonalds, so I’m pretty sure my kids are only going to identify that as the place to throw up on car trips.
As I stood in the parking lot trying to fill my lungs with fresh, non-vomit smelling air, I looked over and in the adjacent parking lot was a hotel. Part of me very much wanted to quit. Just stop here. Put the day out of its misery. But before I could even suggest it to my wife, we pressed on. One of the most valuable lessons a kid can learn on a long car ride is how to deal with being miserable. My kids were getting a master class. Plus, if we stopped now, we’d still have at least 11 hours left to drive the next day.
We drove on into the darkening evening as it started to pour rain. Bound for the mountains of Tennessee, which my kids would once again sleep through, pushing forth like the pioneers did so many years ago. Desperatly longing for a place to lay their head in peace, and also to not get dysentery.
When we did finally make it home the next day, my wife and I talked about doing something like that again. The kids loved Disney World, so I assume we’ll go back eventually. But would we drive? After all that, we both agreed that we wouldn’t be against it. As long as the kids were sleeping and not vomiting, peeing, complaining, screaming, singing, eating, talking….it wasn’t that bad.
First off, let’s all agree that “gussy up” is a tragically underused phrase. Now that we’ve established that, my first thought is how refreshing this is when it comes to talking about philosophy. No preposterous “what-ifs” or made up scenarios woven in an attempt to prove or disprove some philosophical abstract. Just clear advice to not just speak, but think straightforwardly.
Not that we want to underthink and make a rushed, uneducated decision. But how many times is the right decision clear, yet we go through mental gymnastics in an effort to justify our choices one way or the other? Yes, gray area does exist, but to get trapped in that area is folly. Set yourself in the right state of mind, with the right guiding principles to stay firmly on the path of black and and white. For a stoic, the virtues of courage, justice, temperance, and wisdom are that guide. Pursue those virtues straight on – in action, speech, and yes, thought.
Don’t waste your mental energy on justifications. Don’t try to convince yourself of something. When an ugly throught comes into your mind, don’t put lipstick on it. Dismiss it.
I also think that we often get caught up in unnecessary thoughts. Not just daydreaming or letting your mind wander, but letting truely useless thoughts get into our minds, distract us, and even effect our moods. How many times have you not given your kids your full attention because half your mind was on something that was trivial in comparison? Living in the moment and staying focused on the task at hand requires your physical and mental presence.
The playoff football game tomorrow, the presidential election in ten months, the fact that your baby will be graduating high school in a mere eleven years – none of these should take up your thoughts today. Give them as much thought as they demand in the moment, but nothing more.
Protect your thoughts. Control what influences them. Stay aware of, and in command of what occupies your mind. Dwell on what is essential. Dive deeply into what feeds you, what helps you grow. Expell the negative, the useless, the puffery. The challenge is training your mind in the first place to be able to recognize the difference between a right thought and an overly gussied one. Once you’ve got an understanding of what truely matters, the rest can start to fall into place.
I Think Therefore I Dad 