Thoughts on Raising Your One and Only: Who am I to Decide?

I grew up with an older brother and my parents each had three siblings.  Out of my cousins, there was only one only child (at least for the first 16 years of his life – that’s when his parents had the first of his three siblings).  When Jen and I got married, we had visions of having at least two children.  Since she also grew up with a sibling, we both thought having a brother or sister was the most natural thing.  

When Ethan was born, we had a vision for a younger brother or sister for him.  Through a combination of things, we slowly reshaped this vision until it became what we have today – Ethan as our one and only.  

Ethan at Age 4

This shift has not been a smooth transition for either of us.  Ethan is a very loving child and is intrigued by babies.  From time to time, he’ll tell Jen or me that he’d like to have a little sister or brother some day.  Family member and friends will occasionally ask if we were having another.  Fortunately, that inquiry has become less and less frequent as Ethan gets older.  

I still find it funny how much social pressure gets placed on young couples.  Think about this for a minute.

 

• When you’re dating someone, the question is “When are you getting engaged?”  
• When you’re engaged, the question is “When is the wedding?”  
• When you’re at the wedding, the question is “When are you having your first child?”  
• When you’re pregnant, the question is “What are you going to name him/her?”
• When you’re basking in the glow of your newborn, the question is “When are you having another?”

 
Before we all cast the first stone, I think it’s important to realize that we’ve all asked these questions at some time or another.  The social expectations we learn and reinforce without even consciously realizing it is quite astounding.  I think it’s easy to see this pressure when you make a decision that bucks any of these question’s assumptions.  

Obviously, social expectations are that couples need to get married and have children.  On a biological level, this makes absolute sense.  Children ensure that the species survives for another generation.  So the physiological hardwiring we have to achieve that goal is amazingly robust.  The base emotion of love is what drives us from the early stage of lust to the long-term relationship.  It’s also what drives our desire to bring a child into the world.

Being a parent is an amazing experience on many different levels.  The mental and emotional challenge cannot be described in a way that does the experience justice.  At the same time, the power each of us has to bring another human being into the world is enormous.  Who am I to decide if a new life should be created or not?

I have two colleagues who went through great lengths to have their children.  One through in-vitro and another through a powerful regimen of pharmaceuticals.  A third colleague went the fertility drug route for almost three years with no success.  All three are amazingly great people who have much love to give.  For the two who did get pregnant, one has twins and the other triplets.

Another couple I know, who are in their early 60s, never consciously decided to forego children.  Both had individual interests they pursued in their 20s and 30s, which kept them focused on anything but having children.  At some point, they realized this lack of attention on children had, by default, been their decision not to have children.  

As I write this post, I realize I have more to explore when it comes to this topic.  For now, let me close with this question – how many children do you plan on having and why?

Reflections on 9/11/01: As a Father, Husband, and Son

It was a beautiful blue sky morning in the Atlanta, GA area on September 11, 2001.  I remember the drive into work and hearing an NPR news story about the assassination of the Northern Alliance leader in Afghanistan.  I got settled into my office and was in the copy room when my financial assistant came in the door.  

She had grabbed some coffee on the way in and the drive-thru lady said that a commercial airliner had crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers.  We flipped on the TV in our conference room, which was the antenna kind with no cable connection.  After some effort, we got a snowy connection that was clear enough to see.

Shortly after, the second tower got hit.  By now, all of us in the office were in the conference room (about 7-8 people).  We were dumbfounded.  102 minutes after the first tower was hit, we witnessed the collapse of one tower with the second tower following it soon thereafter.  Given the epic scale of the tragedy, the initial television coverage kept looping the scenes over and over.  The wall of visuals overwhelmed the our emotional systems.

I remember before the collapse wondering how the fire department would extinguish the flames.  And, wondering how they would be able to restore those buildings.  Admittedly, I also felt some relief when they did collapse, because it’s easier to rebuild from scratch.  Milliseconds after that thought, I reminded myself that those buildings weren’t in isolation.  There were people inside of and around them.

As the events of the day sunk in, we felt an enormous amount of sadness and grief.  As brain research has shown, the human mind is innately wired for empathy.  We each have an amazing amount of capacity to watch others and feel what they feel.  The flood of images triggered deep emotional responses.

That explains the enormous rush to the American Red Cross blood banks and the outpouring of contributions to the various fundraisers.  The sentiment around most of the globe was sympathy for the United States.  Even traditional enemies, like Iran, offered their condolences in back channels.

My first conversation with someone outside the office was with my wife, Jen.  She was at home watching while she cared for our almost five-month-old son.  Ethan was born the same year as 9/11 and was blissfully unaware on a conscious level of the tragedy.  It just felt good to talk with her and make sure Ethan and she were safe.  I felt the need to tell her how much I loved her.  

That evening, I came home and gave both of them a big hug.  It felt good to feel them in my arms.  I couldn’t believe that we had brought a child into a world that spawned so much inhumanity.  What had we done? The entire game had changed and now what?

My mom and dad called me that day, too.  They wanted to see how we were doing and to let us know they loved us very much.  We were all dumbfounded and perplexed.  It seemed all surreal.

As I went about 9/11 this year, I thought mostly of these things.  I thought about how much we were driven to connect with those we loved to make sure they were okay.  Even though none of us were anywhere near NYC, DC, or Pennsylvania, we still wanted to reach our loved ones and hold them in some way to reassure ourselves.  It was comforting to us.

What are your reflections of 9/11 and how it impacted your family?

Having Fun with Cousins

The word “cousin” can be used in many different ways, all of which express an especially close kinship.  When I think of cousins, I think of a huge library of memories from my childhood.  Both of my parents are one of four siblings.  In total, I have eighteen cousins, almost all of them lived in the same town as I did growing up.  You can imagine how fun the holidays were when we brought the different clans together.

It has been a different experience for Ethan, since we’ve lived in different cities than all of his cousins.  I have one brother and Jen has a brother and stepsister, each with children.  At current count, Ethan has seven cousins, who he has seen only for small stretches of time broken up over his seven years.  

Over Labor Day weekend, Jen, Ethan, and I traveled to Omaha for one of my younger cousin’s wedding.  Claire is particularly close to us, since I used to babysit her and her two brothers.  In fact, she was a junior bridesmaid in our wedding almost ten years ago.  

The Soon-to-Be Mrs. Claire Osborne

Her mom is my dad’s sister, so this wedding was a great gathering of the Henderson side of the family.  Because my older cousins on this side live in California, my brother and I have served the role as the oldest cousins to the six younger cousins.  These were the little ones Kelly (my brother) and I would dominate in basketball, wrestling, backyard football, and anything else.  

It was pretty interesting for me to see all six of them grown up now.  Claire is the second youngest and the youngest, Cliff, is starting his sophomore year in college.  Now, we were comparing life’s notes (can’t believe Jeff has already been married five years!) and we’re rediscovering each other as adults.  Those Cisar boys can sure whoop it up on the dance floor – was Cliff even alive when Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” was hot?

Not only did Ethan get to be with my cousins, but he had good times with his own cousins, too.  Kasia and Kiera (my brother’s daughters) were at the wedding festivities.  Kiera is about six months older than Ethan so in the four times they’ve been together in their lives, they have become fast friends.  It was fun walking outside on the veranda of the wedding banquet to find the two of them sitting at their own table just talking like seven-year-olds can.  

Liam, His Mom, and Aunt Jen

We also met his two youngest cousins for the first time when we visited Jen’s brother, Rob, and his wife, Janna.  Liam and Duncan are about 18 months apart, so we had fun playing with the mobile Liam, and holding Lil’ Dunc.  You better believe we snapped tons of photos and shot plenty of video.  We were fortunate to see them again just a week later when they drove thru Indianapolis to rendezvous with her family from Ohio.

Being in Omaha also gave Ethan a chance to see all of his grandparents and two of his living great grandparents, but that’s another post all by itself.  His

Great Grandpa and Great Grandma as Photographed by Ethan

 great grandparents have developed an amazingly strong bond with Ethan, despite only have spent a total of maybe four hours together in his lifetime.  

Seeing everyone again made me realize the great memories I have from my childhood.  It’s inspired me to launch a new social network through the Ning.com platform for my family to stay better connected.  Since I’m the Keeper of the Family History, too, I figure this will give me a great way to pull memories and life events for the genealogical record.

It also makes me think about how Ethan’s experience has been so different from mine.  I know we each have different things that shape us during our lifetimes and that our children won’t have the same experience as us.  But with all the fun he has with his cousins and the sadness he gets when he has to leave them, I wonder about it.

So what has your relationship with your cousins been like?  All great memories, terrible memories, or no memories?

How the Carnies Control Parents’ Minds (or A Blue Ribbon Day at the Indiana State Fair)

Boarding the State Fair Train

For as long as I can remember, Ethan and I have enjoyed our adventures to large festival, fairs, and parades.  We love roaming the crowds, tasting the samples, riding the rides, and eating the foods you can only buy from booths on wheels.  

We’re a natural fit for the Indiana State Fair, which finished its 152nd run last week.  It was our third time at the Hoosier State’s version and our best yet.  It was so good, it took me a week to capture the story in a way that would do it justice.

We rode the State Fair Train from a nearby suburb all the way to the fairgrounds.  Taking the old passenger rail cars to and fro allowed us to hang out and enjoy the view of the passing neighborhoods.  Riding the train also put us in the position of not having the ability to leave on a whim – we were bound to a schedule with 1 hour and 15 minute intervals between departure times.  That actually helped us slow down and decide to take in the whole fair.

After eating our turkey leg, pulled pork, & fried mozzarella sticks, we headed to the Midway for some rides and games.  First up, the log ride.  Nice and refreshing.  Next up, Crazy Mouse. Then, bumper cars.

I had promised Ethan he could play a few of the carnival games on the Midway.  Ethan loves competition and I usually limit him to a couple games, given the poor odds of these games.  However, I wanted him to have the chance to try his skill this year.  (Plus, I was a bit more motivated by the fact Bryan Gray’s boy won a stuffed dog the day before we were there.)

We Have a Winner

In hindsight, I think the “carnies” are masters of human psychology.  Just think of the amazingly perfect convergence they have created – low buy-ins, shoddy first prizes, the ability to buy a couple more chances to get a better prize, a child’s desire to play and win, and a parent’s desire to see their child win.

We started with a simple basketball shooting game.  For just $1 per shot, you could win a prize.  It helped that the person working the booth was a younger woman who allowed Ethan to have an extra shot (or three).  After two bucks, he sunk a basket and won an inflatable bouncy ball.  But, another shot and he could trade up for an NFL football and a third made shot won a huge college logo ball.  I placed a $5 bill in her hand for more shots and Ethan walked away with a North Carolina Tar Heels huge ball.

As we were making our way off the Midway, I unwittingly walked into a “carnie” shark.  He promised my son would win at his game, as he gave the feigned look over the shoulder at some fictitious boss.  Ethan could have two darts for $5 to throw at balloons (or 6 for $10).  Two popped equals a prize.  Because the cool prize was a stuffed bear with a Colts jersey, I put the fiver in his hand.  Ethan did it and won another shoddy prize.  ”For just $5 more”, he whispered, “I’ll let you have three more darts and let you have the bear if he pops just two more.”  Deal.  And, Ethan came thru with two popped.

So after $17, we walked away with two big prizes.  Ethan was quite proud that he won the two prizes he wanted most.  Darn those carnies for figuring out how to part me from my money!  Hey, it was worth it.

What other places have figured out how to profit from the parental desire to see their kid win?

Sideline Reporter: Fall Flag Football Season Has Begun

With the kids back in school, the fall sports season has arrived.  Last year, Ethan ventured into the world of soccer.  This year, he chose flag football.  Apparently, my spring flag football league had an influence on his decision.

View from the Sideline

If you have been on the sidelines of any children’s athletic event, it is a very interesting sociological study.  We all have different parenting philosophies, styles, and tactics.  These differences manifest themselves on the sideline.

Before I go too far, let me admit something.  I am highly judgmental of other parents.  It’s like watching the “Jerry Springer Show” and taking solace in the fact that your problems aren’t really that bad.  Sure it’s schadenfreud, but what’s more American than that?  (Do you like how I wrapped myself in the Stars and Stripes to avoid ownership of that?)

I find myself most fascinated by the parents who have decided that their child’s performance is the single defining measurement of their personal status.  Yeah, I’m talking about those parents who are shouting instructions onto the field, scolding mistakes, and shaming the child for all to hear.  I also like those parents who have adrenaline flowing as much as Bill Cowhers did in his heydays as Head Coach of the Pittsburgh Steelers.

But I digress.  

What I love about sports is the opportunity it is for our kids to experience team building and working in groups.  They learn discipline and the importance of doing their part to help the team.  They get to experience failure and the thrill of victory.  They get to go in harms way.  They get to get picked up from the ground and hugged until the tears stop.

Let’s not spoil that by wrapping ourselves around how their actions and inactions reflect upon us as parents.  Let’s step back and realize that we can only do so much.  The rest is up to them.  We can love them and guide them.  We can teach them and comfort them.  But they have to be on the field, playing their position, and figuring out how to become a better person.  

Yes, we can be on the sidelines cheering them on and pointing out the great things their teammates are doing, too.  That’s right, our kids need to hear other adult voices cheering them on and encouraging them.

That’s what I think at least.  What do you think?

Serving Two Masters: A Vacation Clashes with Work

In this Interconnected Age, I find the lines between work and play blur into a gray zone, especially when one chooses not to disconnect from the grid.  I just returned from a three-day vacation to Chicago with Jen and Ethan.  Unfortunately, I learned more painful lessons on how to dilute the value of a family vacation:

1. Commit to phone meetings, even if they are 30-minutes in length.
2. Keep checking your mobile phone, PDA, and work email.
3. Neglect to tell your colleagues and key clients that you’ll be gone.
4. Believe that you are critically needed every minute of the day by others, except your family.
5. Allow your mind to become focused on every little detail about work.

What happens when you follow this proven plan is that you miss the opportunity to completely enjoy a break from the world and strengthen the familial bonds.  Having the high expectations of myself that I do, I realize how I created the situation myself.  

Despite these frustrations, I can say we had fun for the 12-hour period where I shut everything done and just focused on the family.  We shopped at the stores we wanted to visit, we bought the things we wanted, we ate the meals we craved (deep dish pizza and Chicago dogs).

Family Vacation Tip: Gotta say that the $4 we spent on riding the elevated trains/subway was one of Ethan’s favorite thrills of the whole trip.  The simplest pleasures cannot be taken for granted.

On the Road: How to Be There When You’re Not

This summer has been an extraordinarily heavy travel season for me.  It made me realize that for my son’s entire life I have always traveled to earn my livelihood.  To him, every dad leaves about 1-2 times per month for a few days at a time.  Quite a contrast to my childhood, since my dad traveled seldom/rarely for his medical practice.

I struggle with this.  It is not an easy thing to balance, especially since I have an unquenchable wanderlust.  It’s been with me for as long as I can remember.  It’s been a major factor in my career decisions.  I love meeting new people, exploring new cities, and extending my professional and personal networks.  

Getting my airfare, meals, rental car, and other related expenses covered is a nice perk, too.  How often would you spend your vacation fund solely on trips to see Punxsutawney Phil, Celestial Seasoning’s factory tour, and various Civil War & Revolutionary War battlefields?

With our current technology, it is very easy to never be far away.  I snap photos and email Jen & Ethan funny pictures.  We text message.  We email.  Now, with Jen’s new iMac, we’ll be doing video chat.  The only obstacle to staying connected is effort.

Today, while I was sitting in a meeting in Louisville, I received two back-to-back calls from home, which I had to send to voicemail.  Immediately, I got a text message asking me to call because “there’s NEWS” – how about that for a hook?  At the first break, I called and found out that Ethan’s accomplished his goal of riding a bike fully on his own.  We spent a few moments celebrating the moment in the immediacy of the moment.  It felt great.

Nevertheless, you can never beat a huge welcome home hug and kiss on the lips.   

How do you deal with keeping connected while you’re traveling?

Sweet Moments of Life: Whale Rides and Underwater Seesaws

I have a lot of fond memories of swimming when I was a kid.  From the Officers Club at Camp LeJune to the private and public pools in Omaha we used to frequent.  One thing I remember is holding onto my dad’s shoulders as he swam under the water.  I would take a big breath and imagine I was riding a whale.

For the past three summers, Ethan and I have spent many summer afternoons and evenings swimming together.  At first, he was hesitant to go in the deep end but over time he has become quite adventurous.  The early thrill was for him to take whale rides on my shoulders.  This year, he has grown strong enough as a swimmer to not need me in the deep end.

Our big addition to the pool adventure is what we call the Underwater Seesaw.  He and I face each other and hold both hands.  He goes to the bottom first and then I go when he comes up.  We can go for a long time seesawing up and down in the deep end.

Tonight, we were going for a pretty long time and then paused on his way down to give me a kiss on the lips.  It was one of the sweetest moments that he and I shared all summer.  Those are the moments that I seek to make more frequent as I close The Fatherhood Gap.  

How about you – what’s a sweet moment that you’ve shared with your child lately?

Echoes of the Past: The Effects of How We Were Raised

For anyone who is wondering, the photo across the top of this blog has special meaning to me.  That’s my dad on the left and my son on the right.  My wife, Jen, took the photo the last time my parents visited us.  It was a special moment they were sharing with Ethan sitting in the same chair my dad was reading the paper.  Ethan just wanted to be near his grandpa and bask in his presence.  (See the whole set of photos here.)

In the late 1980s and early 1990s, Robert Bly become nationally known for a movement that emphasized the importance of men connecting with other men.  Bly, a poet from Minnesota, represented many Baby Boomers who had a distant relationship with their fathers and thirsted for authentic male relationships.  In his most well known book, Iron John, he explored the theme of becoming a man and how boys have a instinctual thirst for their father.  When that thirst goes unquenched, the boy lashes out in destructive ways.

I am blessed to have a father who spent considerable time with my brother and me.  He was the all-time quarterback for the neighborhood football games that were mostly played in our yard.  He took us and the neighbor kids to the school park to play baseball.  He was an active, involved dad.  One of my fondest memories was winning a 200-yd freestyle swim race in high school with my dad cheering me on and celebrating with brunch afterward.  That’s the image and archetype I hold of the ideal father.

As I have met others and learned about their relationship with their father, I have come to realize how many people didn’t have the experience I did.  Unfortunately, those experiences continue to impact their lives with sometimes disastrous repercussions. 

Each one of us has the power to stop those negative echoes of the past from driving our own behaviors.  It isn’t easy, but it can be done.  

What’s something you’ve said or done that sounded like your dad so much it made you cringe?

Note to Self: He’s Only 7 Years Old

I expect a lot out of myself.  From an early age, I have always expected to be the best at what I do.  I don’t know where that comes from.  I just know that’s how I am wired.

When it comes to my expectations for Ethan, I sometimes forget he’s only 7 years old.  He’s an articulate and bright child.  As an only child, he’s spent a big chunk of his life around adults and connects well with them.  

In certain situations, I’ll catch myself getting frustrated with how he’s handling a situation.  Some times I catch myself and remember that he’s only 7 years old.  For those other times I don’t catch myself, I spend plenty of time kicking myself later.

One thing is for sure, I have never placed my unfulfilled personal dreams of glory onto his shoulders.  My dad always emphasized the importance of following my own bliss (to borrow from Joseph Campbell).  I have given Ethan the same gift – to aspire to be his own person.