I had a parenting moment last week that probably would never have landed in a book by Benjamin Spock.  I then had to laugh about this related Wikipedia entry “for most of his life, Spock wore Brooks Brothers suits and shirts with detachable collars, but at age 75, for the first time in his life, [his wife] got him to try blue jeans.”  Aside from him being a different Spock and me not being able to flash the live long and prosper sign gesture (my fingers will not cooperate), maybe we have some things in common.

Dr. Spock arguably helped my parents subsequently help me in child rearing through trickle down guidance.  He was also a dude that connected more dots than most and recognized that children needed access to service and support outside the immediate family constellation.  He was not without controversy and to borrow from my closest work mate he appeared to have a “Pa Bud” litmus test, which to other practitioners seemed a bit unscientific.

My work intersects with technology a lot so we often use my kids’ accounts as tests.  One day recently was no different in shopping school-related fees we were trying to assign to high schoolers.  Admittedly, I have relaxed a bit this year on monitoring my kids’ grades so I got all caught up that day and then blew a fuse.

Now mind you my kid’s grades are still very good, but maybe not at the level I expect.  And I unfortunately steamrolled by the time I caught up with my little friend.  I reacted, he then reacted, and the overall reaction was a lesson in poor interactions.  I shared my meltdown with a trusted colleague and she provided me with the truism about wisdom we should learn from child number one before child number two or more come along.  She’s a mom of two daughters and her oldest was engaged to be married.  Insert COVID and plans go berserko.  When patience had run out this couple decided on jetting off to far and away and celebrated their nuptials with those they loved via Zoom.

And this apparently is what it looks like from afar when your first born ties the knot during the pandemic.  I’m glad I’m not my parents.  After all these years, I am starting to understand why they never slept well.  I made normal sleeping complicated.  My own kids now make normal sleeping complicated.

“When the philosopher’s argument becomes tedious, complicated, and opaque, it is usually a sign that he is attempting to prove as true to the intellect what is plainly false to common sense.”

Credits above to Edward Abbey – an American essayist who passed away in 1989.  I could have used his support last week when at the apex of my adumbrating I indeed said “because I said so.”  Hopefully by my journal entry my youngest will be reassured writing absolutely matters, along with every other discipline that gets a grade!      

In April 2001, just past most of March Madness I had the opportunity to see that year’s college basketball’s championship courtesy of my father-in-law.  At the time, I was a rookie school psychologist making $33K while my wife worked retail making about the same.  Flying off to an NCAA Basketball Championship was not in our budget.  But taking a PTO day absolutely was when my father-in-law was springing for the trip!

Four teams made it to this stage – Arizona, Duke, Maryland, and Michigan State.  They played in what was once the Metrodome in Minneapolis, MN.  It was a cool event with plenty of marque players who became future NBA noteworthies.  I was not a diehard college basketball sports fan but I was a sports fan in general and spent the trip star struck on the opportunity (Duke won it by the way).  A few years before when I was in college I got to see the Cameron Indoor Stadium which is Duke’s storied gymnasium.  My wife (girlfriend at the time) was selected to attend an elite dance camp that Duke hosted so I visited and took in the top attractions!  Back to the Final 4, I got to see Coach K, Mike Krzyzewski, who is practically immortal.  I got to see Carlos Boozer, Jay Williams, and Shane Battier in person.  Throw in Chris Duhon and Mike Dunleavy Jr. and you’ve got yourself a national basketball championship.  It was an experience that has made for several retellings…

On the way back after the final game was over, my father-in-law and I along with others boarded a chartered bus back to our hotel.  Somewhere along the line, the bus driver just got lost and riders became restless.  We were all tired as it was late and as the tension grew someone started singing “the wheels on the bus go round and round.”  And I kid you not, full chorus ensued…

I look back on that day often because it reminds me of the power of how simple gestures can channel bad mojo into positive or at least promising patience.  That night back in 2001 many folks had reveled during the game so that added to the tension on our bus ride but the “wheels” singalong struck a common thread in all passengers.

Student transportation is an area I supervise and I can tell you those wheels go more than round and round.  It’s a no fold endeavor because many of our kids need transport to get there.  Yet our drivers receive the best and sometimes worst of behaviors our kids have to offer at times.

If you’re a bus driver reading my blog, thank you.  If you are a student, be nice to your bus driver.  If you are a teacher, remind your students of what I just said (please).  We have so many opportunities to be combative with one another but what my impromptu trip with my father-in-law taught me some two decades ago was we also have so many opportunities to come together and find common interests.  Now more than I ever I would argue we must find ways to make the wheels on the bus go round and round while we’re all on it.