This year has been one with a lot of choices. Choose to wear a mask or be a dick. Choose to leave big cities or stay and complain about it. Choose to support local businesses or shutter in.
In terms of work/life, I chose to slim down my hours and focus on being a Dad and house husband, at least half of the week. My wife Jane (we tied the knot online back in September!) works full-time (translation: 6–8 zooms a day) and I’m a semi-retired marketing consultant for hire, so it made sense for me to spend extra time with our kid, who coincidentally became a teenager (a Quaranteen?) during Covid.
In reality, this has amounted to a lot of time driving him to and from summer camps and now school, since we were lucky enough to find ways to do both safely and in person. Some of Violet’s current coursework includes remote learning and he’s also taking a Minecraft class that teaches civics and urban planning; both of these have us even more enmeshed in his education. We also have quasi-fun but required activities like tennis and swimming, urban hikes, and even the occasional pickleball competition.
But homework has been the biggest challenge and his current school has — just like many others — been struggling with structure and effective learning. It has boiled down to parents spending an inordinate amount of their days helping set up Zoom calls and then in some cases actively listening in to make sure some actual learning is taking place. We’ve found ourselves reading and researching some of the novels he’s been assigned; conversations about Lord of the Flies, John Steinbeck and Charles Dickens are now interspersed with those on The Mandolorian, Animal Crossing and Trump’s latest meltdown.
Like I said, I’m one of the lucky ones who can afford to take the time to spend with their progeny and to be honest it’s been some of the most rewarding time spent in years. It took the effort to slow down and think about my behaviors and actions and how Violet would interpret and be affected by them, and I realized plenty of what I was doing — or not doing — with him could easily be useful to the adults in my life, both personal or professional.
So here are my 5 lessons for my daughter, that I couldn’t have learned without her, that you might learn a thing or three from yourself:
One: Prioritize Your Presence. Or be there when you’re there. This seems like an obvious one but the simplest way to guarantee it is to put away that device, not just in your pocket but out of the room and down the hall. Giving that time and focus is almost meditative, especially when you commit to listening and responding, not just nodding distractedly. Be here now, don’t be a zoom dick.
Two: Being A Pal Takes Effort. During these remote times, you have to make and take the time to reach out and check in on your friends. It’s not a transaction, like let’s make a playdate or have a meeting, but something relational. Being there is half the battle, and these days an online chat or phone call feels almost as good as the real thing. Don’t worry about keeping score on who’s the better friend; all you can do is be the friend you want others to be to you. In terms of work, I make it a point to send relevant articles, leave witty (at least I think so) comments on LinkedIn posts, and reach out to at least one former colleague almost every day.
Three: Model Apologizing. I screw up all the time, just ask my new wife (and my former one). But I am working hard at immediately apologizing and taking responsibility. Violet is thirteen now and just starting that phase of talking back and being a snarky teenager. He doesn’t know it yet but knowing and admitting that you’re wrong is one of the coolest and most powerful ways to move forward in really anything. It’s honest and strangely rare in our blame society, but true leaders admit to their mistakes, big and small. Take our current President, just kidding, that’s another good lesson: don’t be anything like him. Excuses will never make you great, on the inside or out.
Four: The Dishwasher Is Never Empty. One of the better consequences of being at home has been dining in more, together. Thanks to Jane, I’ve found myself looking forward to cooking and preparing a meal (opening a wine bottle counts, dear) and spending time at the dining table. That also means our dishwasher is in constant use, with a constant rotation of dishes being put in and taken out. Taken metaphorically, there is always an opportunity to help out around the house! So we are working on getting Violet to not just clean his room when we plead, but to perpetually tidy up in small ways. Take out the trash because you noticed it’s getting filled, not because it’s a weekly chore. Fill up the ice cube tray! Make that bed! Water the plants! Be aware of how the little things can create daily harmony.
Five: You Are Always Teaching Your Kid Something. I sometimes yell at other drivers, I mean why am I the only with any sense on the road? (Oops, see #3). I also started jogging. And here I am trying to write more, with you as my witness. Each one of these is something Violet sees me do, and no matter what I tell him, there’s nothing quite like action. I’m working on the yelling thing, plus a few other negative behaviors, not just for me, but because I want Violet to be better than me. There’s an expression that goes something like, “When you teach your son something, you’re teaching your grandson.” If I’m going to be remembered at all by Violet, I want it to be for the good stuff.
I’m sure there are plenty more like Don’t Worry, Be Happy, but let’s save that for another post…
