Soccer dad

Three months ago I registered Trinity for soccer.  I wanted to help out a bit.  

You spend a lot of time together, you and your kid, when you coach. You're at every practice and game, moving the team ahead. You're involved right in the middle of their life. Suddenly it's not their teacher at school or music teacher or some other dad who is spending those moments with your daughter, it's you. You in the middle, you shaping them, you helping their friends, you being there. 

I was always a but jealous of dads who coach their kids teams. It takes a lot of time. And usually I don't have enough time. So I never did it before, while other dads coached my daughter.

This time I signed up to assist the coach.  When there was no head coach I was asked to be it. What a task; what a treat.

Yet there were 14 other girls, and 14 other families, who played. I wasn't going to just focus on my all star.  There was a whole team, and I had a role for each of them.

Honestly, I didn't make it about soccer. We had practices and games, and I did my best to help them learn soccer.  But when we talk about kids and sports, adults always preach that it's about other things.  About having fun.  About playing together and making friends.  About character.  About developing people.

We worked hard to do our best and win.  We did drills in practice.  And we won some games - about half of them.  I was warned that the girls wouldn't care much about the score, which was completely wrong.  They celebrated each goal, and were excited about every time we won.  But it was about more than winning.

I broke it down into three parts:

• Have fun.
• Play hard.  
• Be a good teammate.

I had now idea how to teach these things.  So I reverted to the most basic medium I could think of:  Candy.  Our team was the Bubblegum Bashers.  So after each game I gave out free gum.  A piece to everyone, because each girl is valuable.  But three special pieces of gum, one each to the girl who had the most fun, worked hard, and was a good teammate.

Really, there was something else I strove for.  Something even more basic, which I think is the core thing we all need.  I wanted the girls to all feel loved.  I wanted them to feel loved by the team, and I wanted them to know that I valued each of them.  If we won or lost, if they scored or were scored on, it didn't matter.  I was proud of them, I valued them, and there were loved.  

The challenge is, how to do you make your girls know they're loved and not get arrested? 

In little ways, I guess.  The bubblegum prizes.  The focus on fun while learning.  Enthusiasm when they played.  Comfort when something was bad.  Constant encouragement.  Correcting when needed, but never demeaning.   Being their biggest cheerleader.  Never complaining to the ref.  Telling each they were important, and pointing out what they were good at.

I don't know how well I did.  They keep a score in the games, but it seems like the more important something is, they harder it is to quantify.  

There were some neat moments though.  Like the card one girl gave me at the end. She runs like a deer and scores strong goals, but she appreciated me calling her to encourage her after she tried a turn at net and was scored on five times.  The row of girls who gave out hugs after one game.  (We played with only 6 girls a whole game, and actually won.  The girls were ecstatic and exhausted when it ended.  Trinity was the first to get to me, and gave me a big hug.  When she let go the next girl was there running with her arms open too.  Oh well, hugs all around, I guess.)  The parents who shook my hand after and said Thanks.  Some really neat moments that signalled that I was at least on the right track.

Mostly, I'm proud of the time I spent with Trinity.  She was glad for it all.  We did a whole season together.  She was so happy when she scored.  She was devastated when she let in goals while being goalie, she cried herself to sleep that night.  (Goalies are a whole different personality type, I learned.)  For two months I was there, in the middle of her life.  That was the best place I could be.

Attitudes

I don't want to.
I guess so.
I'm glad to.

Darcia needed a massage last night.  We have a big massage machine - we call it The Thumper.  That's what it does, thumps up and down your back, bruising you into tenderness.

When Darcia asks for a massage it's always at the end of the day.  Read: at night.  After I lay down in bed.
I always say 'Yes.' But to be honest, I don't always have a good attitude about it.

A lot of the time I'd like to say "No thank you.  You see, I'm tucked into bed already, and it's cold out there. How about tomorrow?"  

I never say that though.  I do it because I should. It's my duty. What husband is so mean that he would refuse this after his wife has worked hard all day? Of course I will.  I'm just not happy about it, and I hope you remember this later.  Like when I want something.

How about "I'd love to"? "It is my delight." "If it makes you happy there is nothing I would rather do."
Serving is always putting others first. Consider others as more important than yourself, think nothing of your own life.

Can I respond with joy when others ask for something?

Care nothing for your life

Jesus said, "Those who love their life in this world will lose it. Those who care nothing for their life in this world will keep it for eternity."

Do I care nothing for my life?
Hardly.

I love my life. I don't love everything about my life, but I value my life enough that I work hard and spend a lot of time thinking about how I can makr it better. My life is literally the most important thing that I have.

And Jesus says that anyone who loves his life will lose it. The one who cares nothing for his life will find it.

So do I have it upside down?
Jesus would say so.

And what is more important?
Everything.

I might say my kids are more important. I would probably due for them of there was a crisis. It's harder when I have to due for them everyday, when they need help with homework, need dinner, need a clean bathroom.

Maybe Darcia. Same story as above.

After that there's not much else more important than than my life.

Ski Day with T&T

I took Terra and Trinity skiing on Saturday.  It was a perfect day - fresh, soft snow, warm, and sunny (sunburns all around).  
It's only our second time this year.  So the kids were happy to go - but not really excited.

It's a lot of work to pack to go skiing.  It's even more work to go with 2 kids.  About 4x more work.
By the time we got to the hill we were all a little cranky and tired. 

I realized that one of the ways I serve them is by being enthusiastic.

If you know me, you know I'm a pretty steady person.  Rarely really "high", and rarely "low."  One person called me the most calm person he ever met.  (I'm not sure if I take that as a compliment.)

Sometimes people need a cheerleader.  Someone who is excited, and they get excited because someone else is excited.  A spark to get the fire going.

Sometimes that has to be me.

Except I'm not, naturally.  

Except sometimes I need to be.
So I serve my kids by being enthusiastic.  The cheerleader.   "Carry your own boots" and "we haven't started yet, quit complaining" don't exactly get them hyped about skiing.  On the way up the lift the first time one of them said they wished they didn't come skiing.  It was hard for me not to reprimand them for their downer attitude (I didn't).  But it would have helped if I provided an energy for them to feed off.

It's not my personality.  But sometimes it helps them.  So that should be enough reason.

By the end of the day we had a great time.  We were tired, sunburned, and full of skiing (snowboarding).  It was a wonderful day together, they way I thought it would end.  

And if I was more thoughtful, they way I could have made it start.

Well, that was nice!

It's snowing right now.  Heavily.  It's the second day of spring, but feels like the dead of winter.  The first snowflakes were falling when I got up and let my dog out.  Now there's 20 cm on the ground.

I have a meeting at the university that I'm waiting for right now.  This morning someone came to my house to meet and talk.  When we finished I mentioned I was going to the university.  He said, "Well, I can stop by there, let me drive you."

We talked for the next 30 minutes on the snowy roads.  (Snowstorms bring out the best in Edmontonians.)  When he dropped me off I asked where he was going.  He said back to his house.

He lives a few minutes from my house, but in the opposite direction!

So he took an hour to drive through the snow to give me a ride to the university so I didn't have to take a bus (really, I don't mind...) and fight through snow myself.  "We got to talk a little bit more" he said to justify it.

Really?  You can't justify it.  Except that you did it just to be nice.

Thanks, Mel!

Yes, I actually did ...

Well, that was one of the more dirty jobs I've done.

Terra got a puzzle for Christmas.  She and Darcia did it together, all 499 pieces.
Yes, there was one missing.

We looked in the couches, under the couches, under the area rug, everywhere we thought it might be.
And then Darcia concluded:  It must have been vacuumed up.

The vacuum bag was full.  Darcia put on a new bag, and put the old one by the door.  "Shouldn't I throw it out?" I asked.  No, she wasn't sure yet.  Not while she thought piece #500 might be in there.

So it sat for two days, while I thought she was crazy.

Tuesday night she was out.  If she wanted someone to check for the puzzle piece, I would be glad to do it.

Do you know what's in a full, dirty vacuum bag?  Let me tell you.  Lots of fine dust.  Bits of coloured paper.  Dried food pieces.  Dog food crumbs.  One lego piece.  And lots of hair.  Not short Wayne hair.  But lots of long Terra, Trinity and Darcia hair.  A web of hair holding all the dirt and dog food and paper bits together.  Sorted through with fingers one segment at a time.  (It takes about 30 minutes to comb through a vacuum bag.)

Yes, I agree.  It was yucky.

Oh well.  It was for Darcia.

And the puzzle still only has 499 pieces.

This "It's my job" idea...

This mentality that "It's my job to serve my family" is probably the best thing I've done to shift my mentality of what I do at home.

This morning I was ready to leave for work.  Darcia asked me to cut up kiwi for Trinity's lunch.  Honestly, I didn't want to.  (I really am selfish.)  But "It's my job."  I promised to do anything I was asked.  So happily I cut up kiwi.

This mentality made me shift from "Do I want to?  Not really.  <Complain.>" to "I'd be glad to."  It's my job to serve them, not do what I feel like.  

Can you take this to the car for me?

I was awake, but barely. I had just put breakfast on the table. And Darcia asked me, "Can you take this to the car for me?" It was heavy. Her arms weren't really full. But she asked for help.

Honestly, I didn't want to. I had bare feet. It was cold out. And really, she could manage. Or the kids could help. What else did we have them for?

My first instinct was to complain. Then I remembered. Of I was at work and my boss asked me tonjlo, what would I do?

Of course I would do it. No question. Even of it didn't make sense to me.

So u jumped up, put shoes on my bare feet, and carried it out.

Of the most important thing for me is serving others I would be happy to do it.

Darcia's dad had this nailed. It's actually unfair for me to be compared to him. Darcia's mom would work late at the hospital sometimes. In the winter her dad would drive to the hospital to start her car to warm it up for 10 minutes before her shift was done. Then he would go to the ward and collect the keys from the other nurses and warm up their cars.

Today, when I came in and finished breakfast, I cleaned the kitchen, then took Darcia's car in to the mechanic. Then made dinner while we "communicated". Now I'm at Trinity's basketball practice.

To be honest, these aren't things I need to consider doing for her, they're just things I need to do, for my benefit as well.

So how did I do today?

Today was good.  It felt good.
Terra and Trinity get out of school at noon.  Darcia has to work late.  So I'm on duty.

The challenge:  Would they get lost in my agenda of things to do?  Or could I push my list aside for them?

Picked them up at school:  On time, which is unusual.  Straight home, which eases stress for the older daughter.
Cooked lunch.  They requested hot dogs and Kraft dinner.  Easy.  Another win.
I washed the dishes (win for Darcia too), while helping Terra with homework.  Trinity did some homework too.  Homework mostly done.
Delivered flyers with Terra.  
Made dinner.  Darcia was happy, but it didn't taste as good as I hoped.  Teriyaki ginger chicken on noodles.  I'm adding cilantro to everything.  Darcia hates the stuff.
Took Terra to horseback riding.  Again, on time.  Another miracle.

I still managed some of my things.  
But I was enthusiastically serving T&T.  Good.

And goodnight.

Reality of Today

When I went to bed last night - after posting my last post - my goal for today was to spend the day doing everything I could to serve my family.  Darcia works late, the girls get out of school at noon, and there's lunch, homework, flyers, dinner, and horseback riding before I go to a church meeting tonight.

Now though, I'm caught in the tension of knowing there are lots of things that I need to get done. I'm waiting for a friend to visit over coffee, and I have an hour of work to get ready for my meeting, and some accounting work for the condo board.

It's not possible to give 100% to my kids and get my work done, my agenda.

If my agenda really was my kids, then it's different.  Again, what's my role? What am I about? My stuff or others? I guess that's the reality: what's my delight? What's my greatest need? What do I say No to so I can do the more important thing?

Serving for love, serving for pay

One of the most beautiful things I have seen was an adult caring for a handicap child at the park.  The little boy needed help with everything.  He was physically and intellectually challenged.  He wanted to go on the slide, the swings, walk the drawbridge, and do all the things the other kids were doing; with great patience and love the adult helped him up and down and through every one of the structures.  He was delighted.  It was a thing of beauty for me to see the incredible love the adult showed for the boy.  Her only focus was to give him a safe, fun-filled afternoon.
 
But of course she was loving and patient. She was paid to do it.  It wasn't her son; she was a paid caregiver.

Why do we give our best for others when we are paid to do it, not when love compels us to do it?

Do you disagree?  I think I have a case.

Take caring for a child.  I have seen horrendous acts at the playground.  Arguing, swearing, demeaning, bullying.  This isn't the children; this is parents toward their children.  Often we are not kind to our kids.  If we saw a paid caregiver treat our children the way we do in our worst moments we would fire them in an instant.  Our expectations are higher for those we pay than for ourselves.

Service is important.  What's the mantra of the retail world?  "The customer is always right."   Employees will do anything to make the customer happy (and make a sale).  Do we bring that same attitude home?  We say things like, "I would do anything for my children."  Just don't complain when you eat your peas, and wait until my show is over. Our attitude is entirely different at home.

Go to a restaurant.  Order anything you want.  If you have a special request, the server will do what he can to get it for you.  Take that same server at home preparing breakfast for his children.  "Eat it, it's good for you.  And put your plate away when you're finished."

Our mindset is different.  We have to serve at work.  It's our job, and it's not optional.  Our performance review depends on it.  At home though it's different.  We can be lazy or unprofessional without accountability. So we don't have an attitude of "I must do my very best every day at this job." 

Needs are more confused at home too.  We don't have a job description - or too wide a job description - so it's hard to know what to value, and how much, and when.

And face it:  15 years of the same thing and you lose your intensity.

But it's still true.

If you disagree, try it.  When you go home, for every minute think, "How can I best serve this person in front of me tonight?"  See if your heart changes, if you sense a tension in your mind, a sense that you can love better.

There are exceptions.  Here's another most-beautiful-thing-I-have-seen:  A second adult with a handicap child.  Only this adult was the mother. It was one of Darcia's relatives at a family reunion a few years ago.  I was able to observe them over a weekend.  The mother fed her daughter, cleaned her, helped her with every activity.  The daughter was 18 years old and weighed about 90 pounds.  She wasn't able to walk and had to be carried.  How do you carry a 90 pound girl when you're her 130 pound mother?  On your back, I suppose.  The mom would tease her daughters arms around her neck and piggyback her around.  It was unorthodox, but it worked.  There was no shame, no guilt, no regret from having her life hampered, just a lot of intimacy and love.

After the weekend I told the mother how stricken I was by her acts of love.  She was a little surprised.  She didn't think it was that special, that it was beyond the call of duty or normalcy.  "She's my daughter; I guess I just do what I have to to care for her."

Sounds much better than, "Oh, really?  Well, it's just my job."  Such love.
  
Post Note:  How do I do?
Honestly, I'm challenged.  This last month has been revealing.  When I get home and dinner isn't ready and I want to read stories on the internet I remember: How can I serve my family right now?  My job then is to make dinner.  If I took it seriously, as I take my job, then I would be more active in serving.  

It's not quite a mentality of "This is what my job is."  It's not the identity of who I am.  It's not "the reason why I'm here is to serve you" to my wife and children.

But that's what Jesus said.  Learn to be the servant of everyone.

I was going to write today about Lance Armstrong.  About how I don't really admire Lance Armstrong, and what I think of his "caught with the cookie jar" confession to Oprah.  But I won't.  Here's why.

I'm quick to see the flaws in others and criticize them.  It's easy for me, and easy for lots of people.  Endemic for us.  

It's probably a demonstration of pride and arrogance too.

So I could go on and criticize Armstrong, or anyone else.  It's easy for me to do.  But that's only credible if I'm one better, if I didn't do things the wrong way or make mistakes.  If I was perfect.

No, Mr Armstrong, I have made many mistakes too.  I have many skeletons in my closet.  
Criticizing you shows no humility on my part.

I see this happen when Darcia does something wrong.  Or, more likely, when something is wrong and I blame Darcia, even if it's not her fault.  A sensation goes through my mind that means "I can't believe you would do something so stupid."  I might do the same thing, or other just-as-stupid things.  But in my moment of anger I know I'm better, and she's dumb.  Except she's not dumb.  She's a better person than I am most days, and it's just a better-than-thou attitude. 

There's nothing Godly about a better-than-thou attitude.  And though we all criticize others and are quick to pronounce judgement, some humility and caution would be good.  Instead of teaching about humility by pointing out the lack of it in someone else, maybe I should just practice it myself instead.

And no matter what happens to Lance after his Oprah confession, I have enough to worry about in keeping myself humble.  "Be careful, lest something worse might happen to you," Jesus said.  

Week at mom's house

I've been at my mom and dad's for a few days.  We come here once a year to visit and be away from everything in the city.  It's a mini-vacation each time.

It's especially nice because of how well my mom takes care of me.  I do next to nothing, but sit around and play.  Day 1: hike around with Terra and Trinity; go snowmobiling; watch hockey game, light fireworks.  Day 2: take Terra and Trinity skiing; eat big New Year's Day dinner. Day 3: go cross-country skiing with Darcia and my mom; go visit my aunt; eat more food. 

My mom is a beaver keep-busy type of person, always doing something.  Day 1: make lunch, make dinner, do other things.  Day 2: cook big New Year's Day dinner for me to eat, mend Terra's clothes I brought for her. Day 3: Go to neighbour to borrow skis for me to use, go skiing, make dinner again.  I don't even know what she does all day.  But she's always busy doing something, and never watches tv. 

My goal this week was to do more helping things when I came to visit.  But to be honest, I'm shamed by my mom.  There's no way I can ever do as many things for her as she does for me.  I wash the dishes as penance.  And make my bed.  But that's about it.

I'm really impressed by my mom.  I don't know anyone who has spent her life taking care of others as much as she has.  She raised 5 kids.  And we had it nice.  Home cooked meals, nice house, clean laundry, and help with homework.  She was awesome.  Few kids had as good a mom as we did.  She made half our Christmas presents herself.  We all received hand-sewn quilts for wedding presents.  She was always busy doing something.  And it was usually something for us.

She looks after my dad too.  He would be lost without her.  He worked the business (farming, logging, and various other things), but mom kept it all organized.  He could find his way through the kitchen to the cans of beans and sardines, but when they ran out he would starve.  Now, he comes home and there's pie for dessert. 

So when I think of a model of someone who serves others, I can think of my mom.  And be proud of her, while I enjoy another piece of pie.  She is the type of person I try to be.

A second thought.  This is what good parenthood is:  Taking care of someone else.  There's a progression of life that we're supposed to go through:

• Very selfish and dependant on others
• Selfish, somewhat able to care for self
• We-focused
• Giving of self to care for another
• Free
• Graceful enough to consiously receive help from others

Here are the corresponding age-stages:

• Baby
• Child-Adolencent
• Married
• Parent
• Empty nester
• Old

It's progression from self-focused to others-focused.  It's a natural progression that God seeks us to grow through.

Marriage and parenthood is the classroom to get your focus away from yourself and on to others.  You finally have a genuine concern and object of need.  So you learn to deny yourself to serve someone else again and again and again.  And to enjoy it.

It's not easy to learn.  How many people wake up after 3 years of marriage and say, "My needs aren't met."  How many new parents look at their baby and say, "This is much harder than I thought."  They're statements that reveal, "It's hard for me to find joy in serving others."  Not a sign of failure, but the process of learning.

After 45 years my mom is a pro.  She serves.

Really, I think she should spoil herself and do more to spoil herself. 
But right now she's busy fixing something with her sewing kit.  That's just who she is. 

Thanks, mom.