Ambulances Are Not as Fun as the Toys

Shane fell down the stairs last night.  He's 100% okay, thank God.

I pulled Shane out of the bathtub at 7:30ish. Carrie and I dressed him and let him run around our room until close to 8. It was near his bedtime, but Shane was still energized so we brought him to the main floor to run off some of it. Everything happened in a few seconds.

The gate to the top of the stairway wasn't shut. Shane does not walk, he runs. I heard my wife scream, "Shane's on the stairs!" I froze for a split second. My brain didn't believe her, even as my body started to process. My wife shot up. My brain unfroze and I sprinted to the stairs right behind her. I yelled as I caught the tail end of Shane tumbling on his side down the last three stairs. In that instant, I was terrified. It felt like my guts were reaching up to stab my chest. My whole body felt like it was somehow pulled inward and swelling around my heart. It's not a feeling I want to go through again. It is ingrained in my memory and will be until the day I die. I don't even know what I yelled. There's just a vague knowledge that what I was feeling bubbled up and ripped out.

Thank God, we had the steps carpeted to help childproof the house. Praise God, my son has my extra thick skull and my wife's grandfather's size. Shane fell a total of 12 steps. He started to cry almost immediately after the fall stopped and my wife and I descended upon him. In the next frenzied, panicked moments, we had Shane in our arms, saw that he was moving and responsive, and blitzed back up the stairs. Nothing seemed seriously wrong with him, but he'd just fallen down stairs for heaven's sake and we were in full-on scared parents mode. There's an urgent care right around the corner from us that we thought was 24/7. We were there in under 5 minutes.

It was closed.

An Odd Dichotomy

Another day, another meeting. This one was with an Ethiopian parent, and I have to say I was blown away. He was the most trusting, and respectful parent I've ever dealt with. It was a little unnerving. He made a big deal about letting us know (through the translator) that he would not question our judgement. In his country, a teacher is respected and when a child is at school they are part of that school family. I thanked him and made a point of telling him it was my job to answer any questions he might have, but he made a point of telling me that he was sure his daughter was safe with our judgement.

Hence, I felt a little unnerved. I'm more comfortable making a pitch or dealing with a combative parent than one who trusts me implicitly. It's foreign to me. Now, I am used to building relationships with my caseload's parents and gaining their trust. It's just never been given absolutely freely when I cannot even communicate directly with the person. There are days where I feel like I don't want my work to be a second family. I pray that I can live up to the man's trust. I don't like to let people down.

On the flip side, there was a department meeting shortly after my meeting ended. We were reminded that the 'e' in e-mail is for 'evidence.' Don't write any opinions or anything about any student in email unless it was succinct, provable, and/or positive.  "Don't write it unless you'd be okay with it as a headline on the front page." The lady from central then went on to talk about subpoenas. That was followed by "How to deal with a parent who demands current hot button issue #1 that we have no jurisdiction over, but they will try to make us do something." There was a slide about advocates and how we're legally obligated to talk to the parents and they cannot delegate away their responsibility entirely, etc, etc.

That's the world I'm used to. There are great parents that I work with and like a lot, but if they ever have a concern you can bet they'll let me know. I expect to hear concerns and address them. I don't expect to hear "I do not have much education myself. I trust you with my student. Thank you so much for what you do." I felt like the man honored me and it made me feel unworthy. I'm more comfortable dealing with questions than respect.

Is that sad?

Shane loves his chair

My wife likes to surprise me.  Especially because she rarely pulls it off.

A couple of weeks ago, I came home to find a new chair. I was never made aware we'd be purchasing new furniture. Of course, when the furniture is Shane sized from Ikea it's easy enough for a hyperactive wife drunk on cute to load up and bring home before the work day ends. Carrie was giddy. She was all bouncing and smiles and "isn't it cuuute!?" when I first noticed the chair. "Shane loves it!"

My wife was right.

Shane loves his chair.  He's having all sorts of fun on it. I have video evidence to embarrass him with when he's older.

Training update

You know it's a training day when you're eager to go, you learn something new, you eat a good lunch, and then you end the day bored out of your skull and your classroom is a welcome alternative.

Trainings teach me empathy for my children. The material can be interesting, but it gets boring once 'teacher therapy' starts. That's when people feel the need to raise their hand and share long anecdotes after each slide. My ADHD starts to kick in, my brain turns off, and it's a battle of will to stay awake much less focused. Actually, that kicks in after the first hour of sitting still and listening, but it's easier to fend off when I'm learning something useful. I didn't have my large jug of caffeine to help calm me either, because I carpooled with a coworker and we stopped at Panera for breakfast.

In the end, I walked away from this training with some new perspective and ideas, so it rates as a success to me.

Training Tomorrow

I'm going to a training tomorrow and I am pumped!  It's a good chance to break my normal routine and maybe learn a new trick or two. I fully expect much of it will be stuff I already know, but this is my first time out of my classroom by choice this year (The previous absences were strep throat fueled, and I would have much rather been healthy and in class).

Also, I think I'm having something of a "I've been at one job for a long time" crisis. I love my school, but the wanderlust has been kicking in. I'm already thinking about what to do next year. I've already applied for the an interview pool for a more technical position within the county. If I don't hear anything back by March, I'll probably put forward my interest for a interviewing at other schools for a transfer. Maybe there will be a good  opportunity in 'the trenches' of alternative schools or a nearby elementary school. If nothing presents itself, I wouldn't be opposed to a fifth year at my current position (since it's great to have a job and all).

I want to work at all three levels (elementary, middle, and high) at some point. Normally, I get somewhere, settle in, and get content quickly. I'm not really used to the restlessness. Hopefully, an opportunity will arise, or I'll just work through it.

Random Cat-Fun

I've been playing around more with Carrie's iPad lately. What it lacks in flashes and editing options, it makes up for it in the "it's there when I need it" category.

Click if you're interested in random cat mayhem, or you can just wait for the next Shane-annigans post for more baby action!

Molars, molars, molars

Shane's teething again. He's got his upper left molar peeking through, and there's a big ole lump where the right one is getting ready to emerge.

Thankfully, he's not been a complete cranky baby.  In fact, he's learned how to play fetch!

I Can't Fix Dead

One of the science labs my county runs requires live goldfish. My school normally buys a small assortment and passes the tank from room to room until every class has run it. Once the experiment is done, we're left with a bunch of goldfish that no one really wants. The tank becomes an aquatic hot-potato as everyone tries not to be the last one stuck with it. Eventually, the goldfish usually find a permanent home. Some tanks decorating rooms can fit a couple, and we try to parcel them off to any students willing to adopt them.

That's the setup.

On Tuesday, my science co-teacher walked up to me while the kids were working. On Friday, she'd sent a goldfish home with an extremely excited student. The kid normally has some anxiety and stress issues, but the little fish in a bag gave her a case of happy-itus. Her parents bought a tank, set it up, and then all had a welcoming something or other for their new pet.

The goldfish died that weekend.

Maybe the family didn't let the water sit first. Maybe the goldfish was at a ripe old age. Who knows? The student was traumatized. There was much crying, and the parents wrote an email to my co-teacher explaining the whole situation and how upset their daughter was. They admitted that they were pretty upset about the whole incident and wanted to read up more on fish care so that it would never happen again. "They probably had a funeral too, knowing this family!" my co-teacher told me. At the end of the email, they asked my co-teacher to not ask about the fish, because the whole situation was so upsetting. They didn't want their daughter to break down or cry at school.

Of course, my co-teacher did not check her work email over the weekend. What was the first thing that she asked Tuesday morning?

"Hey! How's the fish?!  Oh, I'm sorry....do you want another one?"

My Prius Makes Me a Worse Driver

My Prius makes me a worse driver.

There, I said it.

There's nothing wrong with the car. This problem is not mechanical or electrical in nature. The Prius offers a touch screen display to access different features such as the radio and climate control. One feature calculates miles per gallon. It displays your current usage, averages your mpg every 5 minutes, and a histogram displays your trip data.

I am forever going for the high score. I am now that annoying person on the road who's speed varies more than it should. It's a compulsion. I thought it was mildly distracting at first, but now I can't help myself. I sacrifice steady driving for mileage readily.

Obviously, acceleration and hills kill gas. This means that I don't constantly accelerate and maintain a single speed. Instead, I speed up a little on downhills so that I can let off the gas and slowly lose the built up speed on the uphill. I have to maintain my speed somewhat to stay with traffic, but my eyes constantly wander to the display. I've managed a high score floating around 50 miles per gallon for short periods of time, but short grocery  store runs and speeding up to merge with traffic usually keep my average in the 44-45 mpg range.

There's something in my brain that forces me to do this. Whenever I see that I'm getting less than 25 mpg my foot reflexively comes off the accelerator. The efficiency-oriented region of my brain recoils from the idea that I'm wasting my gas, or maybe it's just the game aspect and I hate thinking I'm 'scoring' that low below what I could be averaging. It's a strange compulsion that never existed back when I was lucky to get 20 mpg in my 5.0 mustang (that was a different kind of fun!).

If you see a Prius varying speed in front of you it may be me. You can honk all you want, but I'll be busy shooting for a new high score.

When do I become "Dad?"

One of the strangest transitions for me as a new parent is figuring out when my name is going to change to 'Dad.' Whenever I say that name, I don't think of myself. I think of my father. I'm supposed to be calling him 'Papa' or something like that, but he's still 'Dad' when I don't catch myself. Shane's mainly babbling now, but I'm going to be 'Da' whether or not I'm ready for it once he really means what he says.

And for that matter, when is Carrie going to become 'Mom?' I've been trying to switch over to calling Mom 'Nana' and calling Carrie 'Mommy.' It still feels strange. There have been some odd conversations months back when I would say something about 'Mom' talking about Carrie and someone would think I was talking about my mother. Other times I said 'Mom' clearly meaning my mother and somehow it was interpreted as Carrie.  I can't think of any specific examples, but I do remember the awkwardness (and no, I did not say anything involving romance, but yes that could have made a jaw drop or a pair of eyes bug out).

So when do I feel like I'm 'Dad' and Carrie's 'Mom?'  I think this is going to be one of those things were you never know the moment when it happens, but you look back after you've been wearing the name for a while and  realize it started to fit.  Or maybe I'll always feel a little awkward with that title, but I doubt it. When I first started teaching, the kids called me 'Mr. Mike' or 'Mr. M' but I eventually got used to being called a 'Mr.'

On a different level of the family tree, I'm glad that my parents and Carrie's parents are NOT both being called Grandma and Grandpa. My mom wanted to be Nana and she nominated dad to be Papa. I know many families just throw a name on the end of Grandpa or Grandma, but I like having two distinct sets of names to avoid confusion. I had that growing up with Jama refusing to be called Grandma, because it made her sound old.

Time for Dad to go check on Shane.

Brain vs Body

When your body is telling you it's time to whiz and your brain is telling you to hang up the coat in the closet, which is in control if you open the bathroom door, coat in hand, and are confused it's not the closet?

Shane's not sleeping well this week

Shane was only down for an hour before he woke up crying. I just got down from comforting him and laying him back to sleep. This morning, he was up at 4:30. Carrie ended up laying with him on her chest downstairs at 6 AM when we couldn't get him to stay asleep for more than a 5 minute stretch. Shane would rest quietly laying on either of our chests, but the moment we thought he was asleep and tried to move him the boo hoos kicked in again.

On Monday and Tuesday, Shane refused to go to bed until after 9 PM and both times I didn't leave his room until after 9:30 PM. I don't know if this is a manifestation of separation anxiety or my son desperately trying to fend off sleep. Either way, I envy Carrie's ability to sleep through the crying. In the beginning, Shane couldn't breathe without waking her up. Now, she can sleep through anything except an "I'm hurt" cry (which she usually hurts me when she bolts out of bed in Protective Mother mode). She hasn't been feeling well this week so she's been going to bed way early. She was down at 7:30 PM on Monday and before Shane the rest of the week. Yesterday, she managed to fall asleep while I put Shane down but then woke up when I checked on her. She then fell back asleep 15 minutes later leaning against me.

Why am I still awake? I'm a momentum kind of guy. Once I'm awake, I try to stay awake and postpone sleep. Once I'm asleep, I don't want to wake up. My no later than 11:00 PM bed time is coming up though, so I'm going to force myself to go try in a few minutes.

But hey, it's a three day weekend! Maybe Shane'll sleep in since he's already had his wake-up call for the night.

Sheldon Cooper is really real

I am a nerd. My wife is a geek. Therefore, we like the Big Bang Theory.

Plus, Sheldon Cooper reminds me of many of the kids I work with and have worked with. Obviously, none of them were "rocket scientists" like Sheldon's sister called him. It's his personality and affects which make him (amazingly) the most real of the characters to me. 

I bring this up, because I had a real life Sheldon experience today.  It's hilarious on the show, but sad in real life. I really feel for the parents of this one student I teach.

No new post today

For now, it's rest time.

I applied online for an in school Tech Specialist position today. My friend Mandy was helping push me towards it and helping with editing the old resume. I like teaching (most days), but I'm curious about this road as well.

Time will tell.

A new game for Shane to play!

Shane's learned how to play fetch. I kid you not.

I bet it's from watching Nana's dog, Indiana, chase the tennis ball all day.

A Night Out With Old Friends

Saturday night Carrie, Shane and I went out to see our old friends Cammy and Erwen! Cammy just ended her final two weeks at her old accounting job from hell. There were a few days between her old job and her new job, so we arranged to meet at Panera. I wanted to show off my son, and I'm pretty sure she just wanted to get out of the house after being forced to work from dawn till dusk and sometimes midnight or later (who'd have thunk accountants could have such military-esqe hours?).

I missed seeing a text, and my motley crew showed up 15 minutes before Cammy and Erwen. Shane used this time to run up, down, and all around the restaurant with Dad in tow. I was hoping to wear him out some before my friends arrived. If I could bottle whatever my son runs on, I wouldn't be typing this. I'd be out running a marathon. The boy does not stop and Saturday was no different. When my friends arrived, the only thing that kept my son in his high chair was a firmly fastened belt and lots of plastic straws and lids to chew on.

Shane sat still enough for Carrie and I to wolf down our food. Cammy and Erwen, having no plans to start a family of their own yet, ate at the leisurely pace of people who are not concerned that a toddler will somehow get into trouble before they can finish. At one point, Shane started to fuss and Erwen subdued him with a magic finger. I don't know if it was a Star Wars reference ("This is not the attitude you're looking for") or if Erwen's finger just looked funny, but Shane sat and stared quietly long enough for me to finish the last few bites of my sandwich (Thanks, Erwen).

Everything was going well. I was finally catching up with some old friends. Carrie and I were out of the house.  Shane shoved a straw down his throat and made himself gag.

Blargh!

Orange baby vomit (orange!?!?) poured fourth in epic proportions. My wife jumped to lean Shane forward and pat his back. I snatched Carrie's empty soup cup and shoved it under Shane's chin.

We were too late. Shane managed to vomit all over himself. There was puke all over his clothes, high chair, and I was holding a soup cup over half full of leftovers. Actually, the mostly full soup cup was pretty impressive! My son can pack his sweet potatoes away (the source of the orange for those who were wondering).

Carrie and I had to pack Shane up in a hurry as the vomit soaked through his clothes. We hadn't brought a change of clothes, because we were so close to home and wrongly figured nothing would happen.  Carrie bit the bullet and picked up our drenched and smelling child, while I said our goodbyes. A casual acceptance of poop, pee, and vomit is an acquired parenting skill and I bet we left Cammy thinking "I know I'm not ready for THAT!" ha ha ha.  I just hope it didn't ruin anyone's appetite when I proudly lifted the soup cup filled with vomit to inspect Shane's handiwork.

Team Mike and Carrie had Shane bathed and ready for bed half an hour later.

Shane at 13 months!

It's been a long journey, but it doesn't feel like thirteen months. Someone once told me that "the days are long, but the weeks are short with a baby." That's absolutely true for me. I think the quote would read best as "the days are long, but the weeks and naps are short with a baby!" Ha ha.  The boy is sleeping right now as I write this, so I'll try to type too loudly.

Also, please forgive any missing spaces. Shane took one good whack at the laptop and managed to knock the space bar loose. It's still attached on one end, but shifts around and doesn't always register.

What Shane Likes:

Tattoo

I meant to post last night, but I never got a chance. Carrie was busy trying to design a tattoo for me.

New Years Predictions and Resolutions

If you haven't noticed, I've updated my blog A LOT over the past couple of days. This a blatant last minute attempt to try to catch my blog up on some of the events of the past few months. I guess you could call it a New Year's resolution to not get too far behind.

I still have:
-A 12-Month update to write about Shane
-Post a bunch of "My kid is awesomely cute pictures)
-Post a post on Shane's first steps (and the video proof)
-A 13-Month post due on the 6th
-A post complaining about all the other posts I have to catch up on, etc. etc.

I'll get there!

Time for some resolutions and predictions:

Foster Kids

My parents switched from emergency foster care into long term. Shane's met kids of all shapes and sizes over the past year! Now he's got three 'cousins' who should be around for at least the rest of this school year. All three love him to death and are as hyper as kids can be. They arrived at my parents right before the first weekend in December and Shane's 1st birthday party was one of my first times to meet them.

The New Year and It's All Routine.

Happy New Year!

If you hadn't noticed, I've been trying to catch up on writing about the Shane-annigans that go on around here. I always have trouble writing about him, because I want to write too much. It's fair to say that my life revolves around my son. I wake up to him in the morning, I cater to his whims all day, and then I get a couple hours of free-time at the end of the day if I'm not too tired.

Overall, I feel more like a 'minion' than a father.

Shane 11-Month Update!

EDIT: This is another post resurrection. That's why it's also shorter than the other month updates.

The 11-month mark for Shane came at the beginning of November. It was an exciting time, because Shane was teasing us constantly. The boy was soooo close to walking!  Shane refused to stay in one place. He was always standing, crawling, or cruising around the downstairs. Min and Max had not yet learned how dangerous a little boy is when you're a fuzzy chew toy with tail to yank! Shane managed to creep up on them several times with his newfound speed. After some painful lessons, the girls learned to stay away. Ranger was a bit more dense. Carrie has some great photos of the boys sleeping together. The hope is that Ranger will grow up and be "Shane's Cat" in the way that Carrie has claimed Max and Min seems to have claimed me. At the moment, Ranger is more of an attention hound and he doesn't care who gives it to him. After all, in his mind, it's the attention he richly deserves! It must be nice to believe the world revolves around you and owes you everything.

Choking

EDIT: This post was started on November 11, 2011.  I noticed I never finished and posted the draft. It looks like it didn't backdate, but I'll see if I can fix that.

Shane scared the crap out of me today.