Summer vacation report

The Missus is in NYC on some hush-hush 2-week fellowship, so The Boy, the two worthless dogs and I are on our own out here and having a lovely time so far.

Here’s the deal. Around about until The Boy turned 6 and we started expecting him to meet goals we set out for him (do chores around the house, learn to read, ride a bike, etc.), we had the perfect nuclear family unit. The Boy couldn’t have had a sunnier disposition and our parenting styles meshed perfectly.

Once we started placing development-related goals on him, however, the backlash began and our parenting styles began to diverge. The Missus plays the traditional role of Coddler-in-Chief, while I am the self-appointed drill seargent and  resident Bad Guy. Which is fine, I think The Boy benefits from having both fire and ice at his disposal.

When The Missus is in town, The Boy and both dogs know that, really, any behavior is acceptable because no matter how much discipline I impose, as soon as Mommy gets home forgiveness will be granted, usually followed by a trip to the craft store and lunch at Chipotle. So whatever I try to do, they just ride it out until they can ignore it.

So I always take the opportunity when The Missus is out of town on business to crack the whip. This year again there is an ambitious agenda, stymied partly because of the miserable daytime heat.

The new dog is a pistol. Very smart but very head-strong. For a while after we got him, like weeks, he crapped in the house whenever he was unhappy with his treatment. Always strategically committed and placed. Because the dog knew no matter how Draconian my punishment, forgiveness would be meted out as soon as Mommy got home.

In the absence of Mommy, he hasn’t unloaded in the house all week. I hope to have him completely broken of the behavior by the time The Missus returns.

Also enjoying many “Personal victories” (as they call them in taekwondo) with The Boy. He continues to go to classes 5 or 6 times a week and is developing into a formidable sparrer and is spooky-good at the nunchucks. He’s ahead of most of his class on memorizing his form (imagine tai chi played at 78 rpm) and takes criticism in front of the class with dignity and bravery.

In the absence of The Missus, I have loaded him up with additional chores (the most onerous of which is walking the new dog about a dozen times a day), and so far he’s only gotten pissy once. HUGE improvement.

Today we went to the pool with a pal of his, and this conversation ensued:

Me: You want to go off the diving board? (He never has before)

Boy: Uh… no.

Other boy: Yeah, I do!

Boy. Yeah, me too!

And so they did. Both kids took their first dive off the board and dog-paddled through the deep end to the safety of the edge of the pool.

I have him doing chin-ups (he’s up to three at a go) and most days can get him to practice guitar. He climbed his first tree.

And on my heavy work days, he entertains himself with reading and crafts until I am free. And when crafting, Mommy and Daddy are never far from his mind (see top).

Finally, The Boy has been dealing with some sleep issues this summer—in the form of refusing to go to—which I have developed a system to address that seems to be working. I let him stay up an hour later, but eliminate all interesting stimuli an hour before then. Then I spend the next 60 minutes boring him to death, so that by the time I send him to bed, both his mind and his body are ready to commit to the task.

So there you have it. The Missus is NYC, “kicking ass and taking names,” and I am here at home with The Boy and the Troubled New Dog, taking every advantage to push The Boy closer to edge of the nest. It’s the last thing I want to do, but it is the current parenting imperative.

I still can’t wait for The Missus to return. How anyone single-parents full-time is a bigger mystery to me with every day she is gone.