Coming to the end of 2016

A lot of people are commenting how 2016 is horrible and they can't wait for it to be over. I can't argue that everything went how I hoped. But no matter all the shitty things that happened in the world, they all get washed out by my happiness at being a father for a third time.

I'm very happy with our family of five. I'm a very lucky Jim.

Today was a good day

Today was a snowy day and we changed our plans to just stick around home.

Isaac spent his time outside climbing the walls of the snowfort and sliding down on his front or side while laughing. Alice played, shoveled, and sometimes had Big Feelings™ as Alice's do. Lucy is working her way through a cold, but seems to be better than yesterday.

I love playing with our kids out in the snow. And it's starting to help that they like doing it too.

Today we lost a princess

And I'm really sad. It's not hard for me to be sad on a day without exercise and all freezing rain and grayness.

To help cheer me up Laura toasted Carrie Fisher with our beers. It made me smile to think of the kind of zippy one liner Carrie would give for a toast in her honour, for someone that has struggled with addiction and mental health issues.

All my life that I can remember I've known Star Wars. I would watch it as many times in a row that I could (that's not healthy). I... feel like that character is part of my childhood and it makes me really sad at her passing.

Her legacy might not be just Star Wars but how open she was about her mental health issues. Knowing that you can be a bit broken and still go on is heartening. I think we're all a bit broken. It doesn't mean you don't go ahead and get it done. But it doesn't mean you can't take a break.

Goodbye Carrie. To me, you'll always be royalty.

May the Force be with you.

The duality of parenting

This comic made me laugh and laugh, then cry.  I love my little rugrats so much, but sometimes I want them to just leave me alone so I can have some time to myself. You know, so I can watch videos of them.

It doesn't make sense, but that's just how things are.

I don't know how single parents do it

Things can be really challenging with little kids, especially when at least 1 is sick. It's not even as hard as I think it will be since Lucy is only 4 months old.

I used to think that little babies are hard. Hahahaha...

Maybe it's because we're home with all of them and there is no break. It can be very tiring a lot of the time. But there are good times too, many in fact. Like when holding Lucy and she flashes a huge smile. Or when Isaac climbs up into your lap and wants to read a story. Or when Alice wants a sled ride and laughs maniacally when you race forward and then spin her in a sideways slide.

It's very rewarding but it's not easy.

Overhead of getting a 5yo ready for the day

A couple of weeks ago Alice got up right away for school. She ate breakfast without a fuss or changing her mind, got hair and teeth brushed by herself, dressed herself quickly and didn't change outfits 8 times or complain that she doesn't have anything to wear with drawers full of clothes. She was ready to go to the bus.

It was an hour early. One hour.

So, that's how much extra buffer we've needed to get her ready for each school day. It's how much time we send negotiating, prodding, hurrying and stressing each and every day morning.

The worst part is that it was a fluke - it's not happened since.

Kids can be exhausting.

Fiction: A snowy trek

The man squinted into the falling snow. It was falling heavier now and he was starting to lose the trail through the trees. He'd been going for quite a while now and had long since run out of water or food to drink. He continued to walk.

He wanted to check his chrono for the time but it was too difficult to dig out from under his sleeve. There wasn't much point since he wasn't going to stop, speed up, or slow down. In other times he might have guessed at the time by the sun through the trees but the sky was just gray. Lighter gray than before even though it was after noon. The storm must be letting up a little.

As his boots crunched through the snow he thought that he voices - a choir perhaps. He paused and slowly turned around trying to find the source of the sound. It might have been the wind or a trick of his mind. He briefly played with a thought that a choir was slowly walking with him on a parallel track in order to convince him that he had lost his mind. He shook his head at the thought. It was much more likely that he simply had actually lost his mind.

Sane or no, the load on his back wasn't getting any lighter. He adjusted the straps to see if he could get them to bite into another point in his flesh. When he was satisfied he set off again.

After a few more minutes there was a quiet moan at his back. He smiled. His traveling companion was starting to wake up and would hopefully want to walk for a bit rather than be carried. Until then, it would be best to keep walking and keep warm. They still had a ways to go until they reached their transport and the light gray wouldn't hold out for long.

The man squinted into the falling snow. He continued to walk.

Fiction: Just Another Day

“Come on Brad. Get up. You’re late”

Ugg. I roll out of bed and slip into my robe. Eyes half closed I shuffle to the bathroom to take care of my morning routine. I’m still not quite awake when I make it to the kitchen and pick up the coffee that’s waiting there for me. I sip it and make a face. Before I even comment Janet says
“Don’t you complain. It was perfect 30 minutes ago when I first called you. You’re an adult, I shouldn’t have to call you 4 times to get you up.”

I don’t say anything. There’s no point, she’s right. I grab some cereal and mindlessly eat while browsing my newsfeed. There’s nothing particularly upsetting which is always a relief.

“You’re going to have to get going if you’re going to make it there on time. A car will be here in 20 minutes to take you to the interview”

“Janet, you know that I don’t need this job. I’m doing fine. What was the consensus on my latest painting? I think that I’ve been really improving.”

“The consensus is that you need a job other than painting. Something that’s better suited to your skills and interests. Like the one for the interview you have. Stop trying to change the subject and get going.”

I nod to myself and put the dishes away. Janet knows me better than anyone and wouldn’t be sidetracked. She wouldn’t be happy until I was happy, which meant she generally was going to annoy the hell out of me until her goal was met.

I quickly put on the outfit that Janet had picked out for me - the most flattering that fit with my potential new job’s dress code. I quickly slipped it on, gave my hair a quick smoothing brush to the side and walked out the door to the waiting car. I think that it was a model from a couple of years ago, but I’ve stopped paying attention to that. As long as it’s clean, comfortable, and got me there on time, I didn’t really care.

“You remember what they’re looking for?” Janet asked as soon as I had settled in and the car began to move.
“Yes, I’ve gone over it.”

She knew that I had, but she just wanted to direct my thoughts from the scene outside to the interview coming up. It had been a couple of years since I had a steady office job. I had done a couple of years working in the local community garden because my neighbour had convinced me that it was relaxing and rewarding. It was for my body, but my mind needed something more challenging than figuring out the proper seed spacing.

After a while the car pulled up to a door of a building in a campus of low buildings. Walking up to the security door it opened automatically for me. Stepping in the lobby which smelled faintly of fresh baked cookies and coffee I glanced around.

“It’s down the hall, third door on the left, room 106. I’ll wait here. Goodluck!” Janet says in her helpful upbeat way.
I nod. I hate being without Janet but that’s just how interviews are done. It’s so artificial. It’s not like I’ll be without Janet’s help while working. It has always seemed silly to me but traditions die hard.

20 minutes later I emerge from the room with a smile on my face. I think that I’ll be able to work with these people. It seems to be a good fit, like Janet knew it would be.

“I’m negotiating your start date and I’ve going through the material they sent over. It looks very promising. Are you happy?” Janet inquires.

I nod and continue to the door for the car that will be waiting momentarily.
I pause.
“Wait, negotiating the start date? Why not tomorrow?”
“Ah. Well, before you get into another project I thought that it would be good to go see your mother. You’ve got a tube ticket for 30 minutes from now and I’ve arranged a nice place for you to stay and dinner reservations.”
“If I hadn’t asked, you wouldn’t have said anything until the car pulled into the tube station?”

The silence from Janet was all the answer I figured that I’d get right now. I continued and stepped into the waiting car. It was newer, still had that “outgassing” smell. It might have been printed this morning. The window lowered to let in a breeze before I could reach for it and the car started off.

“Anything useful in the feeds?” I asked Janet.
“No. And I wanted to apologize for this morning about your painting. You are improving. It’s just that you don’t really like painting. It frustrates you and raises your blood pressure. You can get very good at it, but you’ll never be great.”

I nod before Janet can go on. I know all this somewhere deep down but it still sucks to hear to. Janet has her reasons to be telling me this. Goading me into doing better? Managing expectations? Crushing my dreams? I’ll shelf painting for now and maybe come back to it later. I’ve got time. Lots and lots of time.

At the tube station I hop out and walk through the doors. Janet indicates the third waiting car. There are 3 people already there waiting. It won’t be long, but since it will be a couple of hours to get to the west coast I divert to the bathroom first. No one wants to be that person that causes a car to be rerouted and delayed for a bathroom stop.

I stare into the mirror after washing my hands. I don’t see any gray hairs, but some days I swear I can feel them.

“Come on Brad. Three minutes until departure.”

I take an empty seat in the waiting car. Another person slips inside right before the doors close and then the car starts to move to the tube. Pretty soon we’re on our way. I open my reader and see that Janet has highlighted a new story that she thinks I’ll like. The futuristic kind with space rangers, benevolent aliens, and smart dialog. The robotic dog is a nice touch.

I finish the story shortly before the car pulls into our final tube station. I hustle out of the station to a waiting car. I’d normally just borrow a bike for a short distance, but it’s raining. It’s a bit early for dinner for me, but a bit late for my mom. I try to not let her wait long.

Halfway to the restaurant a thought occurs to me.
“Janet, when is my mom’s birthday?”
“Today Brad. This is your gift, making sure you see your mom on her actual birthday.”
“Right. Okay. You’d think that I’d remember that by now.”
“Well, you’re only 258 year old. You’ve got some time to learn your mom’s birthday.”

Janet hasn’t even bothered to make her voice sound sarcastic. I wonder if that’s a bug in my splinter of the AI that I call Janet or something widespread. I’ll keep an eye on it.

I look back out the window at the rain hitting the pavement and wonder what it would be like to live in the future.