Day: February 11, 2017

Inevitably all parenting winds up pushing children towards or away from what you value in life. This is often intentional, though the effects of said action are often unintentional and unpredictable. I guided my children towards sports and video games. My clearest young memories of my first born are of him curled up on my chest as I played Madden and him, 3 now, squatting on a soccer field picking grass as the ball rolled by. Nine years later he’s dressed in team colors cutting and weaving through a gang of flag pullers, smirking all the way. At rest he is parked on the couch, iphone 7 in his lap and controller in his hand. These are activities he learned by watching me (insert PSA). These aren’t necessarily good or bad; that isn’t the point of this reflection. No, I’m talking about awareness of action and how those actions, activities, and especially attitudes take root in our children.

You cannot feel strongly about something–especially something relevant and constant–and not expect it to have an effect on those around you. The PSA above (in full form) provides a simple, inelegant example of the transitive property of parenting. Another example is that of a lazy parent (read: me) who engages in a great deal of gaming and general lounging. If this behavior is seen as leading to rewards (i.e. having fun, being happy all the dang time) then this behavior might suggest that the way to said rewards is to engage in this behavior or that engaging in this behavior has no relevant consequences. In a way it is about the children not knowing the whole story and taking from it what they will.

We as parents have limited control over how children receive the information given. The context they apply is not always the context we wish to emote. This is part of the reason why motion picture ratings exist. This is also why punching a hole through a wall or screaming at your kids and merely making that behavior normalized leads to consequences.

This has been my version of a PSA.

I find myself seeking an organizational philosophy. This need is so direct that even the vaunted ‘algorithm’ noticed, loading my sidebars and Facebook stream with organizational books and thoughts. Getting right is as easy as writing: all it requires is butt in chair. Yes, but there is the issue right there.

The love of my life introduced me to the Neil Gaiman ‘book job’ episode of the Simpsons where Lisa tries to become an author. Predictably, she finds herself sitting at her desk and discovering anything else to do. I have a TV poised above my desk wired into the chromecast, which means the sucker runs Netflix, youtube, and, well, the web. Of course I mitigate this distraction by first explaining it as a necessary research element (lie) and then as a device that I can turn off whenever I want to (junkie). Herein lies the problem at hand.

It is not enough to want to be better in life. You must create the uncomfortable conditions that force your flabby self into the mold of a literary (and productivity) Adonis. These piles marring the edges of my desk are not good. Tonight, after a rousing tackle practice with the kids, I intend to lash out at the desk beast and start to whittle away at this clutter that dominates my life and steals my ability to function. Yes, I’m aging, but I am not dead. I shall rise.

Maybe just climb to my feet.