eParenting

In many ways technology has made parenting massively easier.  Communicating with your kids, knowing where they are at all times, keeping track of their grades, etc is much simpler now than it was when I was growing up.  This particularly comes in handy when you have six kids, and most, if not all, of those kids have some sort of activity going on every weekend.  Such was the case this past weekend when Cole and Gavin had their football banquet/awards ceremony, Scarlett had a dance recital, and Jaxon had a Saturday/Sunday soccer tournament an hour and a half away in Columbia.  It’s always fun leading up to the weekend when Rach and I try to figure out which kids we’re going to disappoint.  Basically, it’s all about playing to your strengths.  We knew Rach had to go to Scarlett’s dance recital because there was no way I would be able to do her hair or makeup.  I’ll never forget when Scarlett was 3 trying to put her hair in a ponytail and she looked back at me with the most disappointing face you could imagine, “I got it, Daddy, you’re not very good at this.” And she snatched the brush out of my hand.  I haven’t done her hair since.  We also knew I had to take Jax to his tournament on Sunday because we had to leave early and if Rach leaves the house before 7am she will spontaneously combust.  (That might not be true but we’ve never been able to disprove it either).  So Sunday was covered, but Saturday I had to decide between the tournament and the football banquet.  That decision also happened to be made for me because the football team was holding their banquet at a paintball facility.  Then plan was to play paintball for four hours then have the awards ceremony after.  Paintball sounds awesome, right!?! Umm, negative.  First of all, I’m old.  I’m not quite ‘socks and sandals’ old, but I’m definitely creeping in on ‘only watch Fox News and the Weather Channel’ old.  Second of all, I’m not a small person.  I’m a little over 6 feet tall, and probably about 3 feet wide.  I’d basically be a like a lumbering sheet of plywood out there for kids to shoot at.  There’s no way I’d leave that place looking like anything but a Sherwin Williams paint swatch.  Paintball?  No thanks I’ll pass.  Lucky for me, the school Periscope’d the awards ceremony so I was able to watch Cole and Gavin get their awards.  Gavin even gave a speech.  Just kidding.  Gavin only says about eight words a day, and three of those are “What’s for dinner?”.  (Oh by the way, if you don’t know what Periscope is, turn off the weather channel for a minute and do a search on the google.)  Score one for technology. 

On Sunday, Jax’s team made it to the championship game of their tournament (which they won by the way), so I wasn’t able to get back in time for the dance recital.  

If this were 20 years ago I’d have to rely on the explanation of others to hear how good Scarlett did, but within minutes of the performance being over Rach had it on Youtube.  I actually watched the video while driving back from Columbia.  And before you start to judge me, you should know that watching a video while driving wasn’t nearly as dangerous as the ugly cry I had going while watching the video while driving.  Don’t bother calling the cops, I’m sure the statute of limitations is up by now.  Score 2 for technology.

One of the major flaws with technology, however, is that you have to know it exists in order to adequately make use of it.  Jaxon also had a school project to do this weekend, which involved taking a stuffed animal with him everywhere he went and taking pictures to document their adventure.  He would then bring in the pictures to share with the class.  Pictures…on paper…that you could hold in your hand…without your phone….like the old days.  How do you even print a picture nowadays?  Do they exist?  Would we have to go to a museum to get them printed?  I had no idea.  And before I go any further with this story, let me just state that I take full responsibility for this mishap.  This was my fault.  I could’ve used the google to figure it out but I didn’t.  I listened to my mother, who is wonderful, and awesome, and we love her, and we couldn’t do life without her.  However she is not the most technologically savvy person that I know.  She told me that you can buy those disposable cameras to take pictures and then they’ll develop them right there in front of you.  Now based on my knowledge of printing out pictures, this seemed totally legit.  The last time I had to put a picture on a piece of paper, I was in college and Bill Clinton was president.  Red flags should have been raised, though, when I went to Rite-Aid and found one lonely, dusty disposable camera in the ‘Ghosts of Electronics Past’ aisle right next to the fax machine toner.  Fast forward to Monday afternoon when Rach is driving around all of creation looking for a 1-hour photo developer and at every stop FaceTiming me to show me the electronic Do-It-Yourself photo stations that print out digital pictures from phones, thumb drives, CDs, SD cards, etc.  And in the most disappointing voice you could imagine, “You’re not very good at this.” Technology 2, Jeff 0.   

Time Management

Time Management

The line between being good parenting and horrible parenting can be a bit blurry.  Being a good parent can sometimes feel horrible, and being a horrible parent can sometimes feel fantastic. For Example, it feels terrible when I tell my 3 year old, Stella, that it’s too late for her to have a cookie and then she gives me the quivering bottom lip, or worse, runs upstairs and cries with her sweet little face in her hands. 

On the other hand it feels great when I tell Stella to make herself her own peanut butter and jelly sandwich because Daddy’s too busy setting his fantasy football lineup for the weekend.  I digress….

On Wednesday nights, Rach and I have a small group at the church.  We scheduled it on Wednesdays because it's the same time that the kids go to Fuel, our teen ministry.  Of all of our kids, Scarlett enjoys Fuel the most.  She's our little social butterfly.  No, really, she dressed up for Halloween this year as a Social Butterfly.  (She's very clever). 

So last night we were getting ready to leave and Scarlett was not downstairs. 

Side note:  Getting ready to leave at our house is a giant mess 100% of the time.  We hardly ever know how many cars we have to take, which kids are coming with us, who has to go where after, which cars have car seats in them, how many of our kids have friends over, who has shoes on, etc, etc. So we view our downstairs as kind of like a doctor's office waiting room.  Maybe you’re waiting 10 minutes, maybe it’s 2 hours.  Either way, it's always a point of contention.

Side Side note:   We are late to our destination approximately 85% of the time.  (FYI, 50% of all statistics are made up) The reason we are late so often is that Rach thinks we have a magic carpet, or a teleportation device or something.  If we have to be somewhere for noon, we leave at noon.  If we have to be there at 11, we leave at 11.  It doesn't matter how close or far away the destination is, Rach thinks we can get there in zero minutes.  Unfortunately, the magic carpet gene is hereditary.  Scarlett is a carrier.  

So back to the story.  We're walking out the door, I'm holding Stella, Rach is holding Stella's shoes, Gavin is holding Rach's purse, and so I yell up the stairs to Scarlett that we're leaving.  We all file into the clown car, get Stella buckled, etc, then I turn around, "Where's Scarlett?"  I look back and get nothing but shoulder shrugs as if I asked who left their plate on the counter.  Rach and I proceed to have this conversation (Now keep in mind that at this point it is 6:45, we’re supposed to be there at 6:45, and our magic carpet is in the shop so it’ll take us 15-20 minutes to get there)

          Rach: Did you tell her we were leaving?

          Me: I yelled up to her. 

          Rach: Well she knows what time we have to leave.

          Me: She was downstairs earlier.  Should we leave her?

          Rach: It’s up to you.

          Me: We’re going to be late.

          Rach: It’s up to you.  I don’t care either way.

          Me (starts to back out of the driveway): You sure?

          Rach: It doesn’t matter.

So we left.  And I’m driving down the road, just conflicted as all get out in my head, “It’s probably the right thing to do, right?  No, that’s mean.  But it will teach her a lesson about punctuality.  Or it will teach her to hate your guts.  At least she’ll hate both Rach and I…” Just then Rach’s phone rings and it’s Scarlett trying to Facetime.  Crap! Rach answers, immediately points the phone at me and says, “Look, your dad is driving.  He left you.”  Ruthless!! So she hands me the phone and now I have to look her in the eye as I give her the crap dad lecture about how she knows what time we have to leave, and we’re going to be late, and responsibility, shmesponsibility, blah, blah, blah, I am a horrible person.  

One more side note: When I was a kid, the idea of video telephone calls seemed amazing. 1980s movies about the future always featured video phone calls as if to say 'Look how cool the future is going to be!' I waited so long for it to exist, and now I'm stuck using FaceTime to awkwardly stare at my 13 year old as she shoots evil eye daggers back at me. Screw you technology. 

Anyway, I try to talk myself into the possibility that maybe she’ll learn a lesson about being on time, and this will resonate into her adult life.  Then I resigned to the fact that it’s more likely that she’ll be on her psychiatrist’s couch in twenty years trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong.  But maybe, just maybe, she’ll be on time to that appointment.  Small victories.