"The more I find out, the less I know."
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Weather at the Frozen North
This is my personal blog. My professional blog is The Customer Service Survey I've written a book called Gourmet Customer Service. You can buy it on Amazon. (in)Frequently Asked Questions AIM Screen Name: DFNfrozenNorth
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Last Updated: Sep 07, 2008 03:11 PM
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Predictable ResultsSunday - September 07, 2008 03:05 PMOne of the crabapple trees outside our home has a wasp's nest the size of a basketball in it. Yesterday Scooter and Skeeter thought it would be great fun to start throwing stuff at it. The results were predictable, and Scooter has a nice sting which has swollen his left eye almost shut. He insists it was his younger brother bothering the wasps, but one of the bricks I found on the ground could only have been thrown by Scooter. No matter. Natural consequences are a Good Thing, we now know that Scooter isn't allergic to wasp stings, and maybe next time they'll know to leave the little meanies alone. Some fights just aren't worth picking. According to a couple of web sites, wasps get very sluggish and have a hard time flying when the temperature is below 50 degrees. Fortunately we're going through some cool weather now, and the overnight low is forecast to be 47. First thing tomorrow I'll finish the cleanup. Posted at 03:05 PM | Permalink | Brother's got a blog...Friday - March 24, 2006 05:14 PM
My brother and occasional partner in crime has just started his own blog, No, Dave, it's just you.
I guess that, as the younger brother, he's always going to want to imitate me.
Posted at 05:14 PM | Permalink | Missing an OpportunitySunday - December 12, 2004 08:12 AM
Last week I noticed that our public library had a few "Bill Nye the Science Guy" DVDs on the shelves. On a whim, I checked out a couple for the kids, even though the box says that they're intended for 4th grade and up. Scooter is only in Kindergarden, and the twins are not quite three.
You've probably guessed where this is heading: the kids took to Bill Nye like nothing I've ever seen. I returned the first set of DVDs, and checked out nine more; and the twins have been singing "Bill Nye the Science Guy! Bill! Bill! Bill! Bill!" all weekend.
What a great video to add to our collection! The kids like it more than Spongebob, and they're learning more, too. So I did a little searching. Odd, Amazon doesn't carry Bill Nye DVDs. Nor does Barnes and Noble. In fact, it seems the only place to buy them is direct from Disney, in an enhanced "classroom edition." For $50 each. That's one half-hour episode per disc. Or if you want to same some money, you can buy the entire 80-episode set. For $2,679. I'm sure Disney set these prices because they didn't expect to sell Bill Nye DVDs to anyone other than schools and libraries. At these prices, that's guaranteed to be true. But I think they're missing a huge opportunity. The episodes could be packaged six to a disc and priced at a point where it would appeal to families. I would gladly pay $80 for a five-disc set with 30 episodes. Disney would be getting one twentieth the revenue per episode, but they would probably sell a hundred times as many episodes. So, how about it? Posted at 08:12 AM | Permalink | Was this really the plan?Thursday - April 22, 2004 03:37 AM
The stomach flu continues to ravage the Frozen North household, with She Who Puts Up With Me and Skeeter still down today. Thursdays are usually Scooter's Special Night, so I decided to take him and Scamper to Chuck E. Cheese.
Scooter is five, and the twins Skeeter and Scamper are two. When we planned our second child, of course we didn't expect to have twins. In fact, I don't think the idea even crossed our minds until the routine ultrasound at 22 weeks gestational age, when the technician remarked that there were two heads inside mommy's tummy. We captured this moment on videotape, and Her reaction is one to treasure forever. So this evening, I was sitting at the table scarfing pizza with Scooter and Scamper. Eating dinner was oddly....calm. Later, when the kids were running around the video games, it was surreal how easily I could keep track of just one toddler. Then it really struck me. This odd calm, this surreal ease of parenting: This had been the plan. We never planned to have twins. If we decided to have a third child at all, it would have been a goodly interval after the first two. If everything had gone according to plan, what I experienced this evening would have been completely normal. How simple things would have been. How much easier. How....sad. Not that these alternate-reality versions of ourselves would have known what they were missing. Had things gone according to plan, two children would have been nothing more or less than reality, exactly as we had wanted it. Had things gone according to plan, we never would have known the richness of the twins discovering the world together, but each in his own way. We never would have the pleasure of reading bedtime stories with one child in each arm. We never would have had the joy of being so utterly saturated in the special kind of love only a child can offer. Not to minimize the hard work, frustration, and suffering we went through trying to care for two infants. For a while, our marriage had been truly suffering. Scooter (no longer the only child by a long shot) went through eighteen months of making our lives a living hell. And I still think that people who wish for twins have absolutely no clue what they're asking for. Love is always additive. Having an extra person to love only adds to the total, it does not diminish the love for the others in any way. Even though we never planned for our family to turn out this way, and never would have chosen to have twins, I can't imagine life any other way. Posted at 03:37 AM | Permalink | AWAMAYAAWAA!Tuesday - April 20, 2004 03:37 AM
Since Friday, a nasty bug has been going around the Frozen North household. This germ takes parent and child alike and transforms them into fragile balls of gastrointestinal distress wrapped in a veneer of grumpiness.
Needless to say, this has not made for happy campers for the past few days, and the level of discourse with the twins has dropped even below that you would normally expect from a two-year-old: "AWAMAYAAWAA!" "I'm sorry, Skeeter, I can't understand you when you try to talk and cry at the same time." "AWAMAYAAWAA!!!!" "What do you want?" "AWAMAYAAWAA!!!!!!!!!" "Do you want a hug?" "No!" "What do you want?" "AWAMAYAAWAA!" "Milk? Water?" "No! Awamayaawaa!" "I'm sorry, Skeeter, but I really can't understand what you're trying to say." "AWAMAYAAWAA!" "Can I put on Bob the Builder?" "Noooo! AWAMAYAAWAA!" "I'll put on Bob the Builder, and you can watch that." "Awamayaawaa!" I don't like using the TV as a tranquilizer (in fact, we hardly ever let the kids watch it except when they're sick), but sometimes there's just no choice. In went the bright yellow videocassette, and within seconds the cheerful tunes and bright colors of Bob the Builder were working their magic. Skeeter gradually calmed down, just occasionally letting out a little whimper of "awamayaawaa." I never did figure out what he wanted. Posted at 03:37 AM | Permalink | The Paradox of ParentingFriday - November 28, 2003 03:37 AM
This morning, we asked Scooter to put on his shoes and jacket to go outside. He responded by doing what many almost-five-year-olds do when their parents ask them to do something: nothing. After asking him several times, each time more forcefully than the last, I finally said, "Get your shoes and jacket on by the time I count to ten!" then added a phrase which I often add: "I shouldn't have to ask you twice!"
Then it struck me. This is the paradox of parenting. Obedience is something we want from our children, especially younger ones. Get your shoes on. Clean your room. Get out of the street! Often, this is a matter of health and safety. But this kind of unquestioning submission to authority is not something we want in our adult children (unless we're trying to raise good little fascists). You see, my goal is not to raise children. My goal is to raise adults. That is, I want my offspring will grow up to become healthy, productive, well-adjusted adults Not healthy, productive, well-adjusted children. The problem is that they're not adults now, and I can't treat them like adults (I know parents who do. Big mistake). I have to treat them as children, while preparing them with the skills and attitudes of adults. While they're young, they need to be trained to listen to and obey their parents and teachers, since it could be dangerous not to (get off the railroad tracks!). But at the same time, I want to lay the moral and ethical compass which will allow them to question authority figures as adults (What are we doing in Vietnam? How much will this national health care plan really cost?). Because, if all I do is raise good children, I've failed as a parent. Posted at 03:37 AM | Permalink | Sylvia AnneWednesday - November 05, 2003 03:37 AM
Born 11/5/03, 7 lbs. 11 oz.
My first niece. Scooter has been looking forward to having a cousin for months now. 
Posted at 03:37 AM | Permalink | Two down, two to goTuesday - October 28, 2003 03:37 AM
She Who Puts Up With Me foolishly volunteered to organize the annual Halloween party for her mothers of twins group. That party was last night. Eighty-eight kids, most under the age of five, plus sixteen girl scouts who volunteered to help, and probably another fifty parents.
When She arrived home at 9:30 last night (the party having ended at 8:00, and I having brought the twins home shortly thereafter), it was straight into the bathtub for an hour. I get extra points for having the bath drawn and ready to go when She got home. This was actually the second Halloween party so far this year. The first was Sunday evening, sponsored by my parents' country club. That was was easy. Just give the kids to Grandma and Grandpa, and then go out for a nice relaxing dinner. We have another tomorrow evening at the Childrens' Museum , which is my chance to volunteer. Then, of course, there's Halloween itself, which is Friday. Then there are the parties at the kids' preschool, which seem to be going on all week. At least we don't have to do anything for those except kick in a couple bucks for the pizza fund. At some point, Halloween morphed from one evening of Trick-or-Treating into an entire Halloween Season. This is at least partly the fault of the parents: I can still remember the candy-with-razor-blades scares of the 1980's (when I was in high school and so past the trick-or-treating stage). In response, parents started looking for alternatives for their kids which didn't involve walking around dark neighborhoods and begging candy from strangers. Retailers gleefully encouraged this trend, too, looking for another holiday to promote and drive sales. The end result is that every organization which wants to be "kid friendly" now has a Halloween party. The "kid unfriendly" organizations have Halloween parties, too, but those tend to involve alcohol. How do you dress twins for a Halloween party? 1) Matching anything. Skeeter and Scamper went as two pumpkins, which was a popular choice. I saw matching Buzz Lightyears, too. 2) Pick a theme. Barnyard animals. Racecar and a driver. 3) My favorite: the Three Little Pigs (triplets). Thankfully nobody in this particular group was qualified to do the Seven Dwarves. Posted at 03:37 AM | Permalink | Bew!Friday - October 17, 2003 03:37 AM
The twins, Skeeter and Scamper, have learned a new word, expanding their vocabularies by about 20%. In keeping with the upcoming Halloween holiday, they've both learned to say, "Boo!"
Since they're both only just figuring out vowels, it comes out a little differently. Imagine a kitten trying to imitate a ghost. "Bew!" Then I, or She Who Puts Up With Me, or their older brother Scooter, will throw up our arms in mock fright and shout "EEK!" This is about the point where both of the twins usually get into the act. "Bew!" "Bew!" "EEK!" And they both giggle like it was the funniest thing in the world. They might not be far off, but not for the reason they think. "Bew!" Pretty soon, we're being chased down the halls by a pair of three-foot tall giggling kitten ghosts. "Bew!" "Bew!" "Bew!" "EEK!" This game continues until one or the other of the twins remembers the other word they're both mastered: "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" "Hi!" Posted at 03:37 AM | Permalink | I enjoy business tripsThursday - October 02, 2003 03:37 AM
I enjoy going on business trips. Traveling can be a lot of work, yes, but it is also fun to see other places, renew old acquaintances, and meet new people. Breaking up the office routine is also refreshing, and I always come back re-energized. Occasionally, I even get to do some sightseeing, which is like an added bonus.
After a certain point, though, the trips become draining. Not physically, but spiritually. The problem is this: when I leave home for a business trip, I leave an important part of myself behind. Even though I don't think about it all the time, there's a person who has been an important part of me for almost 14 years now. That's close to half my life. In a way, she's like oxygen to me. I don't always notice all the important things she does to sustain me when she's around, but when she's not there, something isn't right. I find myself wishing she was was with me. There is so much I'd like to do and see and talk about here in Manhattan, but there doesn't seem to be much point without her. A nightly phone call helps--thankfully, we live in an age when this is possible--but can only do so much. The sound of her voice helps sustain me until tomorrow, but can't replace being with her, touching, hugging, kissing, or just soaking in each other's presence. I suppose if we lived in a different age, we would be like John and Abigail Adams , writing letters to each other to replace that part of our souls which were missing, but the modern method has its advantages. The first time I had to be away on business was about 3 years after we were married. Up until that point, we had hardly ever been apart for more than half a day since our wedding. Somehow, I survived. I spent close to five years in an investment bank, which had me traveling nearly every week. Somehow, I survived that, too, though the birth of our first child made it even more difficult. Fortunately, my travel schedule now is not nearly as grueling as it once was. Even so, a full week away from home leaves my soul starved for oxygen. I may complain about having to get up to catch a 6 AM flight, but I would walk to the airport if I had to. It is the love of those around us which makes this life joyful, and it is only when I am home with her and our children that I am truly surrounded, filled to overflowing, with that love and joy. Tomorrow, I go home. Posted at 03:37 AM | Permalink | Grandpa's memorial serviceSaturday - September 27, 2003 03:37 AM
In New York this evening, after my grandfather's memorial service.
I inherited a lot from my grandfather: his offbeat sense of humor, his disregard for convention, his passion for learning. I identified with him more than just about anyone else in my life. I also learned, later in life, that he had some less admirable traits. He often didn't realize the effect he had on those around him, and he hurt some of the people around him as a result. He and my grandmother divorced when my mother was still young, and the way that marriage broke up was unnecessarily cruel to my grandmother. I learned about this when I interviewed my grandmother some months before she passed away, and it was clear that, even 50 years later, the wound still hurt. I don't believe my grandfather intended to cause this much pain; he simply didn't realize that would be the effect of his actions. Not long after, my own marriage went through a very difficult period, due mostly to the stress of dealing with newborn twins and a very active three-year-old. There were a number of occasions when I wondered if I was so much like my grandfather that I was going to inadvertently play out the same mistakes he made. Thanks to the support of family and a close friend, I was able to learn from my grandfather's mistakes rather than repeat them, and my marriage is stronger now than it has ever been. I owe many things to my grandfather, but perhaps the greatest is the wisdom to learn from the past. He will be sorely missed. Posted at 03:37 AM | Permalink | Crossing the lineSunday - September 21, 2003 03:37 AM
There's a certain point when a child (or a grownup, for that matter) who has done something wrong realizes that he's not just in trouble, he's really in trouble.
Yesterday, our older son Scooter (who is four and a half) was playing quietly downstairs while She Who Puts Up With Me was napping, and I was reading. The twins, Skeeter and Scamper, were also napping. A calm, restful time in the DFN household. Too quiet, as they say in bad detective movies. Then She Who Puts Up With Me went downstairs. "Oh! My! God!" Her voice was at least two octaves higher than normal. "You clean this up RIGHT NOW!" "What happened?" I called down. At moments like this, my dialogue tends to the cliche, and it seemed like a good time for some exposition. "It looks like a tornado hit," she said, "Scooter completely trashed the dining room, there's art supplies everywhere, and that book of Egyptian stencils is ruined." I went downstair to see for myself. It wasn't nearly so bad as She Who Puts Up With Me seemed to think. Yes, there were art supplies strewn on the floor, and yes, a few of the stencils in the stencil book had been torn. Then I saw it. Bright blue paint on the cream carpet. Scooter had been making a painting, and he had been using the floor as a desk. You could see exactly where the edges of the paper had been by the lines of paint in the carpet. During this time, Scooter had been acting as he often does when he's in trouble, offering semi-sincere apologies and watching the commotion as his mother got herself worked into a fury. You have to understand, we have a philosophy in our home, based on the fact that certain compromises have to be made with three kids under the age of 5. Certain items, like the furniture in the TV room, are disposable. They were in bad shape before we had kids, and we simply plan to replace them once the children reach a responsible age. The dining room carpet is disposable, and already had numerous stains. There was a principle involved, however. When Working With Art Supplies, Be Careful To Keep The Mess Contained. "Let me handle this," I told She Who Puts Up With Me. We know from experience that Scooter likes pushing her buttons, and her anger, magnificent as it was, wasn't likely to teach Scooter the right lessons. I calmly took a deep breath, then bellowed like a drill sergeant: "Scooter! Get right in here this instant and clean up this mess! Do you understand how much trouble you're in? After you're done cleaning up, you will apologize to your mother, and it better be good, kiddo, because she will decide how long you will spend in your room!" It was at that instant that Scooter realized that he wasn't just in trouble, he was really in trouble. His expression completely changed, from the half-smirk of his insincere apologies, to a wide-eyed surprise, to abject misery and tears. The next apology was sincere. He explained to She Who Puts Up With Me how sorry he was for not being more careful with the art supplies, and tearfully promised not to do it again. He even tried to wipe the paint from the carpet. Of course, even though this was "washable" kids' paint, it was too deep into the pile of the carpet to come out, but the effort was a good one. This is a mistake Scooter won't be making again in the near future. And, in case he forgets, there's a bright blue reminder every time he goes in the dining room, at least for the next few years. Posted at 03:37 AM | Permalink | |