A few days ago I ran across a book review in a newspaper. The book being reviewed was “Reading Magic: Why Reading Aloud to Our Children will Change Their Lives Forever,” by Mem Fox. It was the headline of the column that caught my attention — Dads and books make a powerful combination.

In the column, writer Kendal Rautzhan says: “One of the points Mem Fox brings forward in her book is the importance of fathers reading to their children. She is especially insistent that fathers read aloud to their sons. Not only does this establish a lasting, strong bond between father and child, Fox points out that ” anything that demonstrated a male enjoying reading would probably be the most significant factor in getting the boy to read.” “

Author Fox, on her own website, provides a few more directives.
• Read aloud with animation. Listen to your own voice and don’t be dull, or flat, or boring. Hang loose and be loud, have fun and laugh a lot.
• Read with joy and enjoyment: real enjoyment for yourself and great joy for the listeners.
• Look for rhyme, rhythm or repetition in books for young children, and make sure the books are really short.

That last item reminded me of some of the early reading I did with my daughters. Lucy was a big fan of “Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You,” by Dr. Seuss. It had rhyme, rhythm and repetition, as well lots of sounds. “Mr. Brown is so smart he can even do this: he can even make a noise like a goldfish kiss!… pip!”

I began reading with “voices” to Susan. I found my form with the Harry Potter books. Each character had their own voice and accent. All had to be remembered for weeks as we made our way through those titanic volumes one chapter at a time. Eventually both girls were sitting in for the readings in which I would try to capture some of the personality, fierceness or humor of the Hagrids, Weasleys, Snapes and Dursleys.

Both girls love to read these days and they still, sometimes, ask me to read aloud. Always reminding me to use the voices.

When I began reading to the girls I was working nights and taking care of them during the days. I was getting by on 5-6 hours of sleep a night. Every time I sat down for more than 10 minutes I tended to drift off. Many weekends, the only nights I got to put the girls to bed, it was a toss up whether I would go out before they did. Sometimes I couldn’t finish a chapter because my eyes wouldn’t stay open. The girls forgave all of that, I guess, and just appreciated the reading we did together. I hope it played a small role in making them the wonderful persons and great students they are today.

So I add my testament. Dad’s reading to their kids is a powerful combination.

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Tags: fathersreading to daughters, rhyme, rhythm, repetition, moo, voices

Life is full of firsts and some of the most memorable for teens revolve around relationships. First boyfriends, holding hands and other little things become life-long memories that stand almost as measuring sticks for everything that comes after. Even if they aren’t monumental in the long run, they usually linger like a sort of keepsake or memento. A pure, powerful feeling hidden like a snapshot in the locket of your heart.

A couple of weeks back my older daughter had her second first kiss. I don’t want to embarrass her by going on about it. I only bring it up because I know how important such first things are and I don’t think things went quite the way they should have with her experience of this.

Why do I say her second first kiss? Because when she was in elementary school she kissed a boy on the bus as a dare. That went about as well as this more recent episode. The school called our house, their were questions asked, written warnings were issued. What was once considered less than a school-girl prank ended up feeling like a narrowly averted terrorists incident.

Her second first kiss was more traditional in nature. She and a bunch of other kids were bowling. One of the kids was a boy who she likes and likes her. At some point during the evening, he kissed her. I’m not sure if there were brass-bands and shooting stars, because we haven’t really talked about the event.

We haven’t talked because the whole thing kind of went sideways on her. Susan is not allowed to date yet. So her trip to bowling was a group thing — NOT A DATE. The group thing was supervised by a parent who had stepped out of the bowling alley for a few minutes and came back just in time to see the kiss, which came as more than a surprise since said parent didn’t know about the boy. Awkward silence for everyone marked the rest of the night.

A first kiss is a powerful and memorable thing. I still remember the girl, not much older than my daughter, who shared that moment with me. I recall still the explosion of joy, of exultation, that threatened to make my chest burst. I remember being giddy, almost dizzy, and not being able to sleep that night.

I know how I felt and it scares me to think my daughter might feel the same way about some boy, and perhaps even more that some boy might feel that way about her. For me, that first kiss felt like TNT exploding and it took some time for me to regain my senses. It isn’t that I don’t trust her or that boy, in many ways it is that I don’t trust the me that I remember. It isn’t just the good things that stay with you.

As Susan has said, she isn’t me. I know that, but it doesn’t help allay all my fears or calm every concern. These are dangerous times, the dynamics of girls and boys have not changed that much since Eden, and I don’t want for her any of the hurt that can come like a thunderclap on a sunny day.

I hope my daughter will want to talk to me about this first and many of the others that will come after. They are treasures. I hope I can find my balance on the tightrope of remembered joy above the fearful abyss. Otherwise I won’t be able to talk back.

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Tags: firstkiss, boyfriends, date, dating, bowling

Hi, it’s Susan again. I would like to discuss teenage dating. Why? Cuz I’m interested in a guy that is a little older than me but my parents have a problem with me dating at my age. 

So, what is an appropriate dating age? Does it revolve around the age or the maturity level of your son or daughter? 

Now parents, I know you like to relate to us and it’s not that you’re trying to tell us we’re wrong all the time but it sometimes comes out that way. I think if your child is responsible enough to be treated as a mature adult, they have good grades, and have responsible and mature thoughts on teenage issues they should have a little freedom when it comes to dating. 

Sure, I’ve heard a lot about teenage pregnancies, peer pressure from dating, and learned about AIDS and STDs. But that isn’t what every teenager is about and it’s not what dating is all about. Maybe that shouldn’t be all parents talk to their kids about when it comes to dating. They might actually do some good if they talked to their children in ways that allowed them to have a choice in dating but also giving them advice that doesn’t involve the all so common terms from parents like: “I was a teenager once. I know what it’s like.” Yes once you were teenagers, but (not to sound immature and snotty) it is a different age. Not every boy wants to get in your pants and not every girl is advertising their bodies for some fun. I think if parents would sit down and get to know the person their son or daughter was interested in dating they would find many teenagers are interested in celibacy and taking things slow. 

Some teenagers avoid telling their parents when they become interested in dating because they’ve grown up with their fathers saying things like: “You can’t date this boy or any boy for that matter or you will be punished.” Or little things like: “Don’t make me borrow the shotgun.” They scare their children away from asking important questions about their situations and then things can happen that lead to bigger problems than a son or daughter dating.

Another question I have is why dating an older boy is a problem for high school kid? I agree that those drastic age differences can be a little intimidating to parents but what is two years in high school? My doctor has told me multiple times that if I decide to date it should not be more than two years. So is two years an acceptable age gap? I mean especially when even our health teacher is ttells us that girls mature two years ahead of guys. So to me, two years doesn’t sound all that large. I think it really depends on the situation. We shouldn’t judge a group by the actions of a few. Parents should judge each case individually instead of comparing it with every one of their previous experiences. 

This post from another blog is one I agree with very much and seems to explain my case. But I’d also like to add I’m older than 13.

I see that a lot of parents are saying not to let your daughter date because she is 13. But in the world today, kids are growing up so much faster, and her interest in boys is not going to disappear. and if they have been dating for a while. Maybe he actually does like her. Yes, most of the time boys only want one thing, but we also have to understand, there are guys who are little players who actually do find the right girl and settle down. Also, if he wants to express himself as a goth, that shouldnt be a problem, it shows he is emotional. instead of jumping to conclusions. MEET THE BOY, you might actually like him, if you put aside what he looks like. REMEMBER looks arent everything. IF your daughter is happy, then let her date him, just keep an eye on things and dont give her complete free range with him, happyness is whats best as long as he isnt dragging her down with him into his little gothic trend.

Hope you give your daughter and this boy a chance.

What do you think?

 

I recently read Cormac McCarthy’s 2006 novel “The Road,” which won the Pulitzer Price for Fiction. There are no daughters in the story, but some of the dynamics seemed appropriate to this blog.

They story is about a father and son traveling across a post-apocalyptic landscape. They are on the road that leads from the horrible past to some unknown future. The father clings to dwindling hope that he can somehow save his only son, that there is a place of safety they will find. The boy hopes for nothing and believes only in his father. They are each other’s everything.

While almost unrelentingly dark, the story concludes with a faint glimmer of dawn. But the self-sacrificing love depicted throughout is what made it terrible to read and impossible to put down. McCarthy uses his efficient descriptions to sketch all we need to know of a desolate world peopled largely with cannibalistic humans. His spare dialog does the same thing for the relationship between the man and boy. Never telling too much, he allows the reader to render it as mental images.

There is great stuff for greenies and peaceniks in this story. It is a fully wrought story on the end of the world with realistically imagined consequences for everything on earth. But what makes it work is the relationship between father and son. I was particularly moved by the way the man was able to instill values, morals, and hope beyond understanding in his young child. In a world where survival was all that mattered to most, this father was able to make it believable and achievable to do what was right as best you could. He tells his son: We’re the keepers of the flame. Everything around says there is no flame to be kept; it has been extinguished. And yet the boy believes and that gives hope for all of humanity.

I love McCarthy. He is a modern Hemingway and more.  And I agree with those reviewers who consider “The Road” his best work to date.  Read it at your own hazard, read it to understand the nature of hope and how children are the living embodiment of that.

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Tags: CarmacMcCarthy, The Road, Pulitzer Prize for Fiction, environmentalism, father, son

Lucy and I went to see WALL-E the other night. It was highly rated at Rottentomatoes and seemed the kind of film we would both enjoy.

There were lots of things to like about “WALL-E,” not the least of which is the little robot himself. Wall-E is the last of his kind, a Waste Allocator Load Lifter Earth-class. He and many of his siblings were left on an Earth destroyed by thoughtless human consumption. Not it is a plant-sized landfill where he labors on (long after all the others have ceased to function) in a fruitless effort to pile-up the trash. The weather has run amok, the oceans are essentially sludge, and nothing but cockroaches are alive.

Somehow Wall-E has determined how to survive. But besides spare parts for himself, he collects other detritus as a sort of mindless hobby. He doesn’t know what most of the stuff does, but it catches his fancy in some way. Also tickling him on some nearly emotional level is an old videotaped musical love-story that he watches over and over. Somehow Wall-E knows he is alone and longs for a companion. He thinks he may have found that in the Extraterrestrial Vegetations Evaluator (EVE) sent to check Earth for signs of life.

The relationship between WALL-E and EVE made the movie for me. It happens essentially without dialog and manages to avoid the cloying crap that passes for many love stories these days. It was touching and funny to see WALL-E trying to cozy up to his sleeker, faster, more powerful love-interest. And when EVE figured out all that he had done and was willing to do for her, she falls in love with the little trash compactor.

Why is it I find it easy to identify, heck, long to be that grungy, goggle-eyed, endlessly (and ridiculously) optimistic little bucket of bolts? All of the robots in this film are endearing and believable. WALL-E may be the best character ever in a Pixar film.

Other good stuff:

• The Earth WALL-E is trying to recycle. A highly realistic depiction of an apocalyptic end result to unrestrained consumerism. It’s cities have massive towers, built almost pyramid-like, out of compacted blocks of trash made by WALL-E. These monuments to human appetites tower above skyscrapers and the other wonders of human creation that remain an epoch after their makers have disappeared.

• The space WALL-E traverses to remain with his lady love. It is awesome and amazing. Traversing it is a wonder. And the space dance WALL-E conducts with Eve, with a fire-extinguisher as his means of propulsion, is joyful and inspiring. I’m not sure I have felt that way about a fictional space scene since watching Kubrick’s “2001″ my own eon ago.

• The message about consumption, recycling, responsibility is laudable. This movie is also an excellent and digestible way to bring such things alive to little people. “Daddy, could Earth really look this way?” I can hear some child asking. “How can we help WALL-E?” This is “The Lorax” for a new generation, with a thinly-veiled Wall-Mart standing in for industrial logging companies. And it has a poetry all its own.

There is lots more to like, but quite a bit that isn’t so likable as well. One example: people are largely let off the hook for any responsibility in the plight of the Earth. Heck, the only really villainous character in the film is AUTO, the auto-pilot robot who is just trying to follow orders. What’s worse, he may know better than all of the stupid (and they are really dumb) people that they simply aren’t (and probably never will be) ready to return to Earth.

But I’ll let Lucy chime in with some of her thoughts before I go any further.

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Tags: film, Disney, Pixar, WALL-E, Dr. Seuss, Lorax, environmentalism, responsibility, big business

The day before Father’s Day the girls and I went to see “Prince Caspian.” This was my gift to me, because they were leaving the next day to visit friends in Virginia. My Dad’s Day would be spent largely alone.

So we joined a church group taking in the latest adaptation of the CS Lewis Narnia tales.

What did they think? Both felt it was better than the Lion, Witch, Wardrobe saga. Both felt it took great liberties with the book — some good, others not so much. My Sue really fretted over The Kiss, the on-screen lip-lock Lewis forgot to include in his tome between King Caspian and the departing — never to return (until **SPOILER** The Last Battle) Susan Pevensie. It never happened in print, but (to hear her tell it) was pretty hot on screen.

So what was in it for dear old dad? First, I read the books as a child and young adult. I liked them a lot and still consider Lewis a personal hero. Second, I got to spend fun time with the girls. Third, it opened new avenues for discussion.

Can violence on the side of right really fix the world? How should people opposed to violence and war (aka US with our Mennonite beliefs) respond to a movie in which almost every plot point hinged on a fight? What was the problem with Miraz as a father figure? What was good about the parental metaphor of Aslan? Does Aslan represent the perfect father? If so, why wasn’t he there when they needed him most?

Lots of questions. Hopefully the kids with chime in with some of their thoughts. Still a good flick with those you love the most on (the day before) Father’s Day isn’t a bad present. I’m glad I gave it to me.

I never liked children. Noisy, troublesome, messy, monsters. As a younger man I stood amazed in grocery stores, malls, almost any public place. Who would bring these nasty, hateful little creatures into the world to whine, cry, scream, fight with their siblings, disobey their parents, be rude to their elders and on and on and on.

To say I had a less than optimal childhood is a pretty major under-statement. So perhaps that colored my thinking on the whole parenting process. But I never had an interest in pinching little cheeks, holding little bodies, or even playing games with people younger than myself. Heck, I didn’t like my own siblings much when we were children.

I never liked children at all. Until I had my own.

I came reluctantly to parenthood, but did try to do my part during the whole process of pregnancy. I played music for my daughters, I spoke into my wife’s swelling belly with fearful hope that would somehow make everything OK at some point down the line. I tried to be dutiful and attentive. I tried to do the things that would make it feel right. I tried to will myself into the parenting mold. But I didn’t believe.

My oldest daughter came at the end of a long labor. After days of waiting, when the doctor asked if I wanted to cut the umbilical cord my hands were shaking so hard I doubted my ability to accomplish that simple task. When my daughter began to cry, I spoke her name and she stopped.

That changed everything for me. I still don’t like children; I love them — especially my own. What would I do for them? We find out every day. Can they tell? I hope so.

How do other fathers show their love for their daughters? How do daughters show their love for their fathers?

Lucy, my younger daughter, recently had field day at school. Field Day, for those who don’t recall, is that late spring school day when everyone gets to go outside and participate in athletic events. What great fun to get out of the stuffy school building and run around in the sun.

Well, it isn’t all fun, according to Luce. Here’s what she wrote:

Field day is the most fun thing ever but you have to be careful because you need to stay hydrated at all times. Today I was walking out to the bus. A kid was not hydrated and he threw up everywhere. But other than that it was an O.K. you have just got to remember to drink a lot if you are going to play a lot.

Stay liquid on field day. Good advice.

A few days ago my younger daughter came home from school chuckling about The Talk they had given there. She thought it rather funny in material and presentation, especially in light of how the three of us typically talk about those issues. My older daughter explained that the district now has several versions of that special event. Once in elementary, once in middle school and then finally in high school. The elementary version my youngest just attended deals predominantly with (for her) the female system and things like having a period. It struck me that my kids are now getting the talk from various sources; home, school, church, media (a lot of TV is passively presenting a rather warped version of The Talk almost all of the time). Later I’ll let my kids weigh in with their perspectives of that “right of passage” and I certainly want to look at the potentially competing sources of this information. But most immediately this sparked some memories for me.

When I was a kid I only got one version of the talk. My parents were not comfortable talking to me about sex. The churches we attended so no point in broaching that topic because good kids weren’t doing any of that stuff anyway. There wasn’t much TV (heck we didn’t have one until I was well into elementary school and it only received 3 channels, less with bad weather). So The Talk came from school. Any blanks left from that and my reading had to be covered by eaves-dropping in the locker room.

All-in-all, the Talk at my school wasn’t very useful, but that might not have been the point. To paraphrase Patches O’Houlihan from “Dodgeball”: The purpose of the talk is confusion, misunderstanding and humiliation.

When that special event occurred at my school, just before high school, I arrived embarrassedly trailing my father who had not said so much as a word to me on this subject in my 14 years on earth. We sat stoically next to each other to watch a short, amazingly poorly made movie that told me about my gear (so that’s a penis, who knew) and never to use it. How one might use it was dutifully ignored (I don’t believe there was even mention of masturbation, much less what else one might do with this stuff). There was talk of venereal disease, but not of how one might contract such painful maladies, and a few other vague concepts such as male urges, wet dreams, etc. But condoms, pregnancy and how the former might help avoid the latter were absent.

The principle and health teacher spoke in unspecific terms. There was nervous laughter. And I left having not bonded with dear old dad nor learned much of anything that would serve me later in life.

It occurs to me now that issues of anatomy weren’t really useful then and certainly are not now. There are countless sources on the internet of both detailed and “gross” anatomy. As for mechanics, experience has taught me most people can figure that stuff out on their own given the right circumstances. And talking to kids about having a period and not to be embarrassed is, frankly, embarrassing for most of them. What’s more, for many children there is no way to avoid how uncomfortable their classmates will make them as their bodies change.

I’m pretty sure the talk my daughter just received didn’t do much for her. I try not to be like my parents and actually talk to my kids about what sex is and my feelings about them and it. That will probably get fleshed out (pardon the pun) in later posts. But for now, I’d like to know what schools could be doing (if they should be doing anything at all) with The Talk? can anyone give details of a school doing this right?

The great story-teller Aesop told a fable of two daughters. One married a farmer, the other married a tile maker. Dad visited the first daughter who said the only thing she needed to make her happiness more complete was a lot more rain. Second, Dad dropped in to see his other daughter. She told him the only thing she needed to make her happiness more complete was no rain at all. For what was poor Dad to wish?

Why repeat this story? It provides the title for this blog. What does it mean? A few things. The story is about the difficulties of human nature and how not everyone can have what they want. I have two daughters whose wants are sometimes at odds. Sometimes I get stuck in between. My two girls, Susan and Lucy, will sometimes post here and at others they will offer their opinions on things I post. Sometimes we will write about stuff we like (individually or together). It may be nothing deeper than a book or a movie. Sometimes we will write about items that interest and concern us. Almost always our posts will be informed by the complex and important relationships between fathers and daughters.

Maybe the stuff we write about won’t be of interest to anyone but us. That’s fine. Writing is a form of communication. Honest communication is usually helpful. What dad wouldn’t want to talk more with his daughters?