Friday, May 7, 2010
When it's okay to let your kid eat ice cream for breakfast
A couple months ago, I read about a study which found a good a way to predict whether a three-year old was going to succeed in college. The researcher would put a child in an room and give him or her a cookie. Before leaving, he would tell the child that he was going to come back in a couple minutes. If the child hadn't eaten the cookie, he/she could have it then, and would be given one more. He left the room and watched via a hidden camera. Some ate the cookie right away, naturally. But some did not. And he saw all sorts of methods used to delay eating, from ignoring it to talking to it like it was a pet. The upshot: regardless how they did it, the kids who managed to wait for his return, who were able to delay gratification, were more likely to get college degrees later in life. Which brings me to this morning, and Isabella enjoying a DQ Blizzard for breakfast. Last night was picture night for her dance class. We made it through no worse for wear, but still her mom and I felt like we had earned ice cream. Stacy thought it would be rude if we didn't offer to buy Isabella ice cream, too, which made sense, and so, Isabella got a Blizzard. And, as she always does, she asked us to hold it for her. When we got home, she was tired, so she put it in the freezer and went to bed. This isn't unusual either, but it amazes me every time. Anyway, this morning she was thinking about what she wanted for breakfast and she remembered her ice cream. She asked if she could have it. My first thought was to say no, but then I thought, "well I don't want to punish her for saving it. It should already be in her system so why couldn't she have it now? If I explain why it is okay, shouldn't she be able to have it now?" Well, I did, and she is. And that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Thought of the Day
I'm not feeling very creative tonight. But, I don't want to take a night off, either, and I did overhear something at the coffee shop this morning which will work for today's thought. I will quote what I heard someone say. It was the adage, "money can't buy happiness". And now you can quote me, "Poppycock." It does not guarantee it, of course, but it can, and does on a daily basis, buy it. My coffee, newspaper and space at the coffee shop caused me to be happy for a while. And even if you believe that money cannot buy happiness, I think you'd have to admit that it sure can rent it.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest Entries
The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest is a literary competition sponsored by the English Department at San Jose State University. I highly recommend checking this site out. http://www.bulwer-lytton.com
It celebrates horrible opening sentences and is named after the novelist who penned, "it was a dark and stormy night..." One can write what amounts to his or her own awful opening sentences and submit them for judging. I will be sending these:
1. Through the pure, heavy, cold, slippery, white, driving snow walked a woman who was, herself, none of those things.
2. The chase had been going on all day - a literal game of cat and mouse, except that Steve was no mouse at all, but very much a person and the cat in this case was a tiger - when Steve's stomach began to growl, as he crouched under a bush, and he realized that he had not eaten breakfast while at the same time he heard a growl which came from outside of him and he realized that he would not be eating supper.
3. I have hated clowns ever since, when I was young, my father would come home from work stinking of the burgers and fries he had served all day; you can imagine my disappointment when he came home and announced that he had gotten a job as a bouncer at a strip club.
4. Jon R. never stole condoms - not because it was illegal, but because he remembered how hard he laughed when he read the police blotter item about the man who had had both legs amputated just below the waist and who had been arrested for stealing long pants.
Send me yours, or better yet, add some in the comment section!
It celebrates horrible opening sentences and is named after the novelist who penned, "it was a dark and stormy night..." One can write what amounts to his or her own awful opening sentences and submit them for judging. I will be sending these:
1. Through the pure, heavy, cold, slippery, white, driving snow walked a woman who was, herself, none of those things.
2. The chase had been going on all day - a literal game of cat and mouse, except that Steve was no mouse at all, but very much a person and the cat in this case was a tiger - when Steve's stomach began to growl, as he crouched under a bush, and he realized that he had not eaten breakfast while at the same time he heard a growl which came from outside of him and he realized that he would not be eating supper.
3. I have hated clowns ever since, when I was young, my father would come home from work stinking of the burgers and fries he had served all day; you can imagine my disappointment when he came home and announced that he had gotten a job as a bouncer at a strip club.
4. Jon R. never stole condoms - not because it was illegal, but because he remembered how hard he laughed when he read the police blotter item about the man who had had both legs amputated just below the waist and who had been arrested for stealing long pants.
Send me yours, or better yet, add some in the comment section!
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Thought of the Day
A lot of times we don't try to follow our dreams because we are afraid that someone will stop us and say, "You suck. Don't even try." And maybe someone will, but probably not. And still, it's much worse if the one saying, "You suck. Don't even try!" is you. And then there is this joy, which I have experienced twice in two weeks and which I hope you either have experienced or soon will: While chasing my dream, I have been told that I am doing well and should keep going. I wish I could bottle and sell the way that makes me feel.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Depression
It is not exactly unconventional wisdom to say that depression is an insidious disease. But I think conventional wisdom holds that it is synonymous with sadness. And I don't think that's the case. I think it would be more accurate to think of it as physical, mental, and spiritual numbness. It is not the same as feeling sad. It is like feeling nothing at all. I have cried more in the years since my depression began being treated than I ever did before.
I am on anti-depressants now. Before going on them, I was pretty against them. I thought they would change who I was, or worse, cause me to be a laughing fool. Depression is the only disease I know of which tries to convince its host that it cannot be treated. In fact, they have not changed the essence of me at all. What anti-depressants have done is allow me to share who I am with other people in ways I would never have imagined before.
It took me years to muster up the courage to talk to my doctor about depression. When I finally did, I started by describing my physical symptoms. He couldn't find anything wrong with me, of course, and was about to leave. Doctors call this a "doorknob moment", I now know. The patient, seeing the doctor is going to leave and fearing he/she will never get this close again, blurts out "could it be..." I knew it was, of course, and had for a long time. So what brought me to the doctor that day? I finally had had enough. I had a fantastic wife, the perfect wife for me. I had a great house in a great area for raising a family. I had a job which did not suck (yet). I had many great friends. And I was absolutely miserable. I finally realized that there was nothing external that I could change that was going to help. So I went to the doctor. He gave me a sample and sent me home.
And, here again, I was very lucky. I forget what it is called, but what happened to me is pretty rare, I think. The medicine, which can take weeks to work, helped me within days. I was leaving work my second day on the meds and was stopped in my tracks. Right next to me was a flowering crab apple tree. It was magnificent! I can smell it still. Across the road were many more. What a sight! I took a few deep breaths. My God! And then it occurred to me that they did not bloom that day. I had never noticed them before - drove and walked right by them. I could go on and on listing all the things that have happened in my life that anti-depressants made possible. My kids, for example, would be on the list. Not long after starting the meds, I asked my wife why we didn't have kids yet. She didn't really know. She had mentioned it before and talked about adoption and I just wasn't interested. I made an appointment with my doctor the next day and it was discovered that I have a low sperm count. Next thing I knew, we were applying to adopt. But here's another example, and I will forewarn you that it's silly, but it is a perfect example of something that takes almost no energy and that I still would have been unable to do before the medication: Stacy and I had a long weekend off, so we decided to fly to St. Louis. We got in late in the evening and it was raining. Hard. Our hotel indicated that it was across the street from Union Station. I knew the transit train went to Union Station so we took it. We walked out of Union Station, into the darkness, into the rain, and looked for our hotel. We couldn't see it. Stacy called and was given directions. It was at least four blocks away. Seeing no cabs, nor people, we walked. It occurred to me that our predicament was begging us to be depressed. We weren't. We simply walked to our hotel. Once there we found that the hotel had no restaurant. Where was the nearest place to eat? Union Station, naturally. Before anti-depressants that would have been the end of my evening. I would have yelled at poor Stacy. I would have said, "Fuck it. I'm going to bed. Fucking horseshit town." But instead, though we were disappointed, we sat down on the bed and talked about our options.
"You hungry?"
"Yeah."
"Me too. What should we do?"
"I don't know. I guess call a cab and go back to Union Station. They have a Hooters! Er, I mean, they have a Hooters I think I heard. They have good wings, I think."
"Okay. Let's do that."
Done. See how easy that was? Trust me when I tell you that I could not have done it without pharmaceutical help.
So I was on my way, with the help of medicine. I was not home yet, though. But, friends, that is enough for today...
I am on anti-depressants now. Before going on them, I was pretty against them. I thought they would change who I was, or worse, cause me to be a laughing fool. Depression is the only disease I know of which tries to convince its host that it cannot be treated. In fact, they have not changed the essence of me at all. What anti-depressants have done is allow me to share who I am with other people in ways I would never have imagined before.
It took me years to muster up the courage to talk to my doctor about depression. When I finally did, I started by describing my physical symptoms. He couldn't find anything wrong with me, of course, and was about to leave. Doctors call this a "doorknob moment", I now know. The patient, seeing the doctor is going to leave and fearing he/she will never get this close again, blurts out "could it be..." I knew it was, of course, and had for a long time. So what brought me to the doctor that day? I finally had had enough. I had a fantastic wife, the perfect wife for me. I had a great house in a great area for raising a family. I had a job which did not suck (yet). I had many great friends. And I was absolutely miserable. I finally realized that there was nothing external that I could change that was going to help. So I went to the doctor. He gave me a sample and sent me home.
And, here again, I was very lucky. I forget what it is called, but what happened to me is pretty rare, I think. The medicine, which can take weeks to work, helped me within days. I was leaving work my second day on the meds and was stopped in my tracks. Right next to me was a flowering crab apple tree. It was magnificent! I can smell it still. Across the road were many more. What a sight! I took a few deep breaths. My God! And then it occurred to me that they did not bloom that day. I had never noticed them before - drove and walked right by them. I could go on and on listing all the things that have happened in my life that anti-depressants made possible. My kids, for example, would be on the list. Not long after starting the meds, I asked my wife why we didn't have kids yet. She didn't really know. She had mentioned it before and talked about adoption and I just wasn't interested. I made an appointment with my doctor the next day and it was discovered that I have a low sperm count. Next thing I knew, we were applying to adopt. But here's another example, and I will forewarn you that it's silly, but it is a perfect example of something that takes almost no energy and that I still would have been unable to do before the medication: Stacy and I had a long weekend off, so we decided to fly to St. Louis. We got in late in the evening and it was raining. Hard. Our hotel indicated that it was across the street from Union Station. I knew the transit train went to Union Station so we took it. We walked out of Union Station, into the darkness, into the rain, and looked for our hotel. We couldn't see it. Stacy called and was given directions. It was at least four blocks away. Seeing no cabs, nor people, we walked. It occurred to me that our predicament was begging us to be depressed. We weren't. We simply walked to our hotel. Once there we found that the hotel had no restaurant. Where was the nearest place to eat? Union Station, naturally. Before anti-depressants that would have been the end of my evening. I would have yelled at poor Stacy. I would have said, "Fuck it. I'm going to bed. Fucking horseshit town." But instead, though we were disappointed, we sat down on the bed and talked about our options.
"You hungry?"
"Yeah."
"Me too. What should we do?"
"I don't know. I guess call a cab and go back to Union Station. They have a Hooters! Er, I mean, they have a Hooters I think I heard. They have good wings, I think."
"Okay. Let's do that."
Done. See how easy that was? Trust me when I tell you that I could not have done it without pharmaceutical help.
So I was on my way, with the help of medicine. I was not home yet, though. But, friends, that is enough for today...
Thought of the Day (Morning Edition)
If you are a biology teacher (as a dear friend is) and you are writing a test question regarding birds (as a dear friend was) do NOT, when trying to type "thin, hollow bone", instead type, "thin, hollow boner" (as a dear friend did). Normally, I wouldn't point out something so obvious, but, well, the need has arisen.
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