Oh Boy, Oh Boy, Oh Boy!

Nate is a notoriously bad sleeper. He is 4 years old and arguably he does not sleep through the night, depending on your definition.

Up until about 3 months ago we could not get him to go to sleep with out lying down with him. He has finally grown out of that but still finds his way into our bedroom every night around 2 AM.

This morning as I was getting up, he sits bolt up right and proclaims, "I'm going to Texas today!". He burst into tears when I told him we were leaving tomorrow. This of course woke the rest of the house hold.

I showered, tried to console Nate, kissed A and Mike, wished Sarah luck, and left.

Maybe working is not as bad as I think!

Last night as I was putting Nate to bed, he said, "I'm too excited about Texas to go to sleep!"

At 10:30 PM I knew he was right.

One amazing characteristic of my personality is how quickly I can change my mind.

I was discussing my previous post with a friend. He helped me look at that situation from a different perspective. If I try to look at the situation from the parents sitting on the sideline, I can understand why they did not get up to help (too tired, don't know any thing about T-Ball, etc.). This helped me separate them from the parents of students I teach. Most of my students come from homes that only have one parent.

I fell so much better today.

I had an interesting experience at T-Ball practice the other day. Something that has me thinking about how things have changed.

I am a volunteer coach for my 6-year-old's T-Ball team. There are 1000 funny stories about this team that I will share later. But, the other day, I needed some help at third base. The kids were learning how to run the bases and I wanted a parent to watch to make sure they were touching third before they ran home. When I asked the parents as they sat along the 3rd base line if I could have some help, not one volunteered. No one moved. I asked again and was met with silence.

This really affected me. This image of detachment called for interpretation. Were the parents thinking "Does he mean me?", "Who does he think he is? I paid my $30!", "I'm too tired to get up." These and other question filed my brain.

Before I bore you with my explanation, I must first tell you I am a high school mathematics teacher who is discussed by the lack of respect and motivation some of my students demonstrate. This T-Ball experience melded with that history to formulate an explanation.

I believe parents see T-Ball as the means to teach their children instead of a forum to play. One boy on our team did not know what hand his glove went on. Another, did not know if they batted right or left. The boys and I figured these answers out together as the parent watched in their chairs. Watched in their chairs!

The most influential teacher in EVERY KIDS LIFE IS THEIR PARENT! Not a coach, teacher, or priest.

I want to be that influence on my kids.

As a mathematics teacher, I am struck by the pride people proclaim their deficiencies with math.

It had puzzled me for years until one day, a student who had been telling me the entire semester how they never could understand algebraic concepts, looked me in the eye and said "Trust me, I'm right, I don't understand Math!"

A light switch went off in my brain as a realized that this students was trying not to understand what I was talking about. They wanted to be right about their lack of understanding.

This is one of the battles I fight everyday. Looking out in my classroom to eyes who have answered my questions before I have asked them.

May 14, 2004
Rush River

I believe it is necessary for me to occasionally pretend I am going to go fishing. I tell my wife, friends, work mates, I am going to Wisconsin to catch a trout when in reality I go to drink some beer, tell some stories, listen to some music, and to just be a guy!

Sometimes it hits me like a wave. The feeling grows from my stomach to splash over my whole body. I cannot predict when, where, or why it comes. . .

It hits me this morning when I am taking a shower. I see that I am a heavy, out of shape, 35-year-old guy whose best years are behind him. I look beaten, tired and soft. At this moment, I wish I never was a swimmer. I wish I never knew what it was like to be in shape, to feel my body performing at its peak.

My mind drifts away from the steam filed bathroom to my college days at Macalester when I was young and strong, back to my sophomore year.

Swimming mixes the best of team and individual sports. A swimmer competes with their team, yet individually can mark progress by comparing times from races through out the season. Our biggest swim meet of the year was the conference meet. Conference was the last meet for most of us. It was the meet all our hard work during the season was for. We were in shape and we were going to shine during those three days at St. Olaf.

I swam great. I had never swum a faster 400 Individual Medley, my 200 fly felt easy and powerful, I helped Macalester break a school record in the 800 free relay, and all that was left was the 200 free relay.

St. Olaf is a great place to swim a big meet. There are 6 lanes with the starting blocks at the shallow end and a 1 and 3 meter boards at the deep end. Lane 6 runs along the bleachers that could hold close to 300 people. Lane 1 was adjacent to a wall of windows that let light stream in during the day.

Our 200 free relay swam slow at prelims and was seeded last. A 200 free relay consists of four swimmers each swimming 50 yards (down and back). Leading off our relay was Dan Allen, Chad Baasen second, I was to go third and Stanton Enomoto was the anchor. We were just where we wanted to be. The stands were packed including the entire Macalester girls swim team. We knew they were there to watch us. We were ready to surprise everyone from lane six.

There are moments in life you can never forget. That instant, before I was to swim, I can remember how excited I was, I can remember how the water was working with light creating cascading patterns on the back wall, and I can remember the sound of the crowd cheering.

When I hit the water I was struck by two things, first how fast I felt sliding through the water and second, I had forgotten to tie my swim suit. The force of my start had pushed my suit half way down my butt. There was no way I was going to let down my teammates so I put my head down and swam. Much to my relief, my suit did not move any further down. When I got to the wall and started my turn I was relieved to feel my suit ride higher. I was relieved, that is, until I pushed off the wall and the suit dropped to my knees. There was nothing to do but swim.

When I finish, I expected to see Chad and Dan doing one of two things; either laughing at me, or giving me a look of contempt. They gave me neither. They were yelling at Stan, encouraging him to swim. I quickly pulled up my suit, got out of the pool and started to cheer with them. Stan finished with a flurry touching out St. Thomas to place 4th over all. We were all hugging and giving each other high-fives no one mentioning my faux pas. Could it be that they did not even notice?

With a sense of relief I walked back to our team. As we went pass the stands, a hush passed over the crowd. As I looked up, I saw the entire girls swim team on their feet giving me a standing ovation.

A loud crash brings my mind back to the present. The bathroom door bangs open and three boys come running in. Anthony and Nathaniel want to play dinosaurs but Michael wants them all for himself. The boys are screaming at the top of their lungs pleading for guidance. In the middle of the bathroom, their dripping dad is smiling.