How Chickpeas Made Me a Better Parent

Parenting in the summer is way harder than parenting during the school year. The kids are spending just a *little* too much time at home, if you know what I mean.

When it comes to parenting,  my default instinct is to punish. “If you don’t get your pajamas on, you’ll lose your story!” “You’re going to miss your chance for breakfast!” “If you don’t get in the car right now vacation is CANCELLED!” Not only does this not work very well, but you run the serious risk of losing all of your parental power. Most threats are completely idle bluffs and don’t stand up well to being called. The more your bluffs are called, the more the kids realize that you actually have no power in the first place. The whole parental authority thing has less basis in reality than the U.S. economy. Aside from that, who wants to be that guy who’s yelling all the time?

Instead, Sara came up with a strict chickpea policy. Every time the kids do something “good”, a dried chickpea is moved from the chickpea supply over to the “ice cream” jar. Once they get 100 chickpeas, they get ice cream.

As far as motivation goes, this works okay for Ollie, but works really well for Evie. She reaaaally wants that ice cream, and tries very hard to be helpful. I wish she wanted to be helpful for its own sake, rather than for external validation, but hey, I’ll take what I can get.

I put “good” in quotes up there, because it is very loosely defined. On the theory that success breeds success, we’ve just been trying to give them chickpeas for ANYTHING. I really think this is the key. I mean, why not, right? It’s not costing you anything, and you do want to encourage ALL good behaviors, right? Said thank you without being prompted? Chickpea. Let your sister pick first when you really, really wanted to pick first? Chickpea. Cleaned your room, helped fold laundry, and went 5 minutes without a fight? Chickpea, chickpea and chickpea. It really does seem like there is a snowball effect: the more chickpeas they earn, the more they want to earn them. (Along those lines, henceforth ice cream will be obtained at only 50 chickpeas. Success breeds success, right?)

The thing is, it’s more than just motivating the kids. This chickpea thing actually puts me in a better mood. It makes me think more positively; I find myself searching for good things to give chickpeas for instead of focusing on the bad things. This just naturally puts me in a better mood, and I don’t think it’s a stretch to say it makes me a better parent.

When I was a kid, my mom had a complicated system of marbles. There was a list of tasks which could earn you marbles, and a list of rewards you could “buy” with marbles. 5 marbles to pick from the prize bucket, 10 marbles to skip out on your “job” (i.e. mom would wash the dishes that night), 20 to spend the night at a friend’s house, etc. I remember this very fondly. Perhaps as time goes on we can elaborate on our system a little.

For now, though, we’re keeping it simple. And yes, the kids have earned their first ice cream!

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Founding Farmers – A Bad Experience

I don’t know if I’ve ever written a bad review of a restaurant before, so this is somewhat of an unfortunate first.

As I mentioned on the D.C. post, we had planned out a few special restaurants well in advance. Founding Farmers was one that we were particularly looking forward to. On top of the fact that several people have told me it was their favorite restaurant in D.C., it’s mission of supporting small farmers and buying local, organic ingredients when possible is certainly right up our alley. A restaurant that composts!

And the food was, overall, pretty good! But there were a series of increasingly bizarre mishaps that were sort of impossible to ignore. It could be that we were just unlucky or had a particularly bad waitress, but I believe indicate a larger problem with the way the restaurant is run.

The first incident was that we got the wrong appetizer. Now, before you jump down my throat, this was no big deal and probably wouldn’t even have been worth mentioning if not for everything that came after. It was quickly and painlessly resolved.

However, when the meals came out, we also received a wrong entree. I can’t stress enough how much I don’t like to send food back or make a fuss at a restaurant, but in this case the kids had ordered a plain hamburger (no cheese), but instead received a blue cheese bacon burger. The waitress even said, “Hamburger, no cheese!” when she set it down on the table. Evie will not eat cheese of any kind, but especially loathes blue cheese, so I had no choice but to ask for a new one.

Unfortunately our waitress had disappeared and it took quite some time to get a replacement. Now again, even at this point, it was no big deal. It was the next incident which was really the kicker.

After we exchanged the burger and started to eat, Sara said, “My salad is wrong too. This has olives on it.” So we once again flagged down the waitress and explained there had been another mistake. Naturally, she was flustered. “No, that’s the salad you ordered!” she insisted. “I don’t remember which salad I ordered, but I really don’t like olives, so I’m pretty sure the one I ordered didn’t have olives,” said Sara. “I wanted the one with the grapes and the dates?” “No, I’m sure that’s the one you ordered,” insisted the waitress again. “I’m sure of it.”

She went off to get the menu to prove it to us, and at this point I know Sara was feeling like maybe she accidentally said the wrong salad. But when the waitress got back and showed us the menu, the salad listed said:

Farmers Salad

Baby Lettuce, Avocado, Dates, Tomatoes, Red Grapes, Almonds, Parmesan Cheese, Champagne Vinaigrette

“Yes, that’s the one I ordered!” said Sara. “It doesn’t say olives.” “Well,” said the waitress in a snotty tone. “It doesn’t list everything.”

This is where it started to go off the rails. Yes it does too list everything, and furthermore olives are a pretty significant ingredient. We’re not talking about some extra sunflower seeds or something; adding olives to that salad significantly changes the character of the salad. You can’t add olives and not mention it; Sara is not the only one who doesn’t like olives. In retrospect, there didn’t seem to be any dates on the salad, so maybe they substituted olives for dates? But, again, you can’t not mention a substitution like that.

But furthermore, if there are unlicensed olives on a salad and someone complains about it, you can’t get snotty with them! Get snotty at the chefs or manager or whoever authorized dates-for-olives, but not at the customer who didn’t want the olives!

“Do you want us to make you a new one without the olives?” asked the waitress, extremely put out. “I’m really sorry,” said Sara, “but I really don’t like olives.”

It took quite a while for the new salad to come out, so by the time Sara got her meal, the rest of us were finished. We had originally planned to get dessert, but at this point we thought it best to just cut our losses and run.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t over yet.

When the check came out, I made sure to triple check it, especially with the wrong appetizers and everything. It just seemed likely there would be a mistake. There wasn’t…until she brought my credit card back. The amount charged to the credit card was not the same as what was on the bill.

“What do I do?” I asked Sara. “They couldn’t have added gratuity for just us, right? Do I just subtract the difference from the tip or something?” “You have to tell her,” said Sara. I really didn’t want to. I mean, I didn’t want more grief, I just wanted to get out of there.

The waitress was apologetic and made jokes about our table being the “cursed” table, but honestly, this was a bridge too far. It took her FOREVER to correct the bill. The kids were getting squirrely, and we were feeling very frustrated. I don’t really understand why we didn’t jump to the top of her “to do” list at that point, if for no other reason than just to get rid of us.

It should be noted that, at no time during any of this, did a manager come over to talk to us or did anybody mention anything about taking something off the bill or anything like that. Of course, I didn’t ask to talk to a manager or anything (and I really don’t think I ever would, short of the food actually murdering a member of my party), but, I don’t know, it just seemed like it might have been appropriate.

So, despite the food being generally good (would it be petty at this point to mention the deviled eggs and potato salad were meh at best?), I can’t in good conscience recommend Founding Farmers.

10 Years

On this day, 10 years ago, Sara and I were married.

Wedding

Man, we looked young, didn’t we?

As is customary, when I sat down to write this post, I first went back to read last year’s anniversary post. Seriously myself? Why did I have to be so damn eloquent last year? (In year 9 of all years!) I pretty much said all there was to say already, and I really don’t think I could say it better than I already did. Maybe you should just go re-read that one.

10 years sounds like a lot, but it sure doesn’t feel like a lot. It kind of feels like we’re just now finally starting to get into the groove of our marriage. I think I’m finally starting to figure her out, and we’re finally in a rhythm as to how to operate as a unit and who we are together. I don’t know how people can be married for *less* than 10 years. How can you know if something’s not working if you don’t even know what that something is, yet?

So now that we’ve gotten all the cursory, “getting to know you” stuff out of the way, I expect everything to be easy-breezy, smooth sailing, upward and onward from here on out.

Love ya, babe! 10 years down, 60 more to go.

Washington D.C.

I had to go to Washington D.C. for a week for a conference, so Sara and the kids decided to join me. This was absolutely wonderful, since it would have been a boring, lonely week without them! Plus it makes for a cheap vacation, since the hotel is paid for and I didn’t have to take any vacation.

It was a 13 hour car ride with the stops, and we did it straight, driving all the way there in one go. This actually went pretty well. I find that at the beginning of the trip it’s a lot easier because everybody is excited. In fact, we woke the kids up to leave early, something that both Sara and I remember fondly from our own childhoods. My dad in particular would always be itching to get going, sometimes just deciding the night before, “You know what? Let’s just leave right now and drive all night!” So I was kind of excited to share that with the kids.

As with the Maine trip, we put together a mixed tape (cd) to listen to on the trip, and it’s pretty awesome. We listened to it basically on a continuous loop the whole time (with only a few minor breaks for Frozen).

The first thing we did was go to Mount Vernon. That was actually really cool, and maybe the highlight of the trip! It was neat to see George Washington’s farm and house, including the room he died in and the room he was sitting in when he found out he would be the 1st president of the U.S. The reenactors were all top notch.

Evie has always really been into the sort of pioneer time period, probably going back to the Little House books, but also intensified more recently with all the American Girl books she’s been reading. She refuses to wear a hat, and instead wears a bonnet every day. She loves nothing more than to wear her bonnet with an old fashioned-looking flower girl dress that Sara had from when she was little. Knowing that we would be going to Mount Vernon, we secretly brought the dress along.

Evie was a big hit. Everybody we passed complimented her on her outfit, and the reenactors were very happy to see her. Even the General himself said she reminded him of his granddaughter. We tried to take a picture, but everybody loved the two of them so much, it set off a papparazzi storm of photography. I think ol’ George wasn’t sure who Evie’s actual mother was, there were so many people taking pictures. Evie was obviously very proud.

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Strangely, though, Evie wasn’t the only one to be complimented on her outfit. Someone told Sara, “We’ve been traveling around quite a bit, and your outfit is the best we’ve seen on the trip.” Sara wasn’t wearing anything particularly fancy, but let me tell you, it’s a nice compliment from a stranger!

As we were driving through the confusing, traffic-laden hellstorm known as the beltway, I was trying to understand all the crazy HOV lane signs. They are really into HOV lanes in D.C.! I’m fairly comfortable driving in crazy traffic, as only someone who commutes about 2 hours a day in Chicago traffic can be, but I couldn’t make head or tails of most of the signs. Finally I saw something a Chicagoan could understand: an ez-pass only lane through the toll! Quickly I cut across several lanes of traffic, congratulating myself on figuring this one out. Or so I thought, because I was totally wrong.

What I actually did was get on a special toll road, just for me! Apparently they have special express lanes that charge your i-Pass for the privilege of using them. Everybody who knew what they were doing (i.e. everybody except me) stayed in the free lanes, since the traffic was flowing. So we had our own little private highway with nobody on it except us! I was a little nervous how much it was costing me (we went under a LOT of i-Pass readers!), but it only ended up costing like $3.50. Not exactly worth it, but not too bad.

The nice thing about D.C. is that all the museums and things are free (though they do try to charge you for whatever ELSE they can charge you for). The next day we hit up the zoo. The highlight was seeing 4 lion cubs, one of whom was very tentative, interacting with their mother, who had had about enough of that tentative son of hers.

It was super hot throughout the week, hovering in the high 90’s. Also, the hotel we were staying at through the week had a pool that was under construction, so no swimming for us (though we did swim at every other hotel we stayed at). Despite the heat, Sara and the kids made it around to quite a few things. They spent 6 1/2 hours at the Smithsonian Natural History Museum, but that was understandable, considering the kids’ love of butterfly houses.

butterflies

They also hit up the U.S. Bureau of Engraving & Printing (where they make money; the Mint is only for coins), which seemed to be a highlight. The National Museum of American History, Air & Space Museum, and the National Museum of the American Indian were all only so so. I was at the conference through most of those, though I was able to join them for the Native American Museum.

We also hit up some trendy restaurants that required us to make reservations well in advance. The best was Rasika, which was awesome. Founding Farmers was…disappointing. More on that in another blog post.

Oliver spent most of the week making friends. With EVERYBODY. No stranger was immune to his charm. The was especially true on the metro, when he had a captive audience. He would find someone to make friends with and start chatting them up.

Ollie, whispering: “Mama, can I ask for her phone number?”

They start so young.

Strangely, one of the best things we did around D.C. was go to a school playground. This was not just any school playground. The Beauvoir playground is one of the coolest playgrounds I’ve ever seen. None of that cheap plastic stuff; unique fixtures, old, tall shade trees, uneven surfaces, and imagination required. Why don’t they make all school playgrounds like this? The kids had a *blast* there and didn’t want to leave after 2 hours.

Our final stop on the trip was Glen Echo Park, where we had a personal carousel tour and saw a Wizard of Oz puppet show. The kids were front and center in the first row, and it was cute to watch Ollie clinging to his big sis when the wicked witch puppet came out.

Finally, after driving all the way to D.C. and back, we hit an ENORMOUS pothole hidden under a puddle just as we got back into Chicago, bending our rim and busting our tire. It was quite the traumatic end to a long day, and just really not what we needed right then. So the whole thing ended on a down note, but the tire has already been repaired and replaced (though we ended up losing our hubcap), and, as they say, all’s well that doesn’t end well.

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Quote Monday is all about bodily functions

Me: “You frowed up, or you throwed up?”
Ollie: “I puked.”

Ollie: “Cat poop looks like truffles.”

Me: “Why is Ollie so obsessed with the sewer?”
Sara: “It’s the perfect intersection of potty talk and how things work, so it’s perfect for him.”

Potty talk and construction are definitely his two favorite things in the world.

::The lights flickered for a minute::
Ollie, running into the room: “I did something!”

Luckily, it was neither mischief, nor manifesting superpowers, just shakey electricity.