My sister-in-law Abby is a big girl now, or she better be, as she delivered my second nephew, and third godson, Steven Bradley Schleicher, on Friday, July 8.
Named after his father, Steven, and his late grandfather, Bradley, the little guy weighed 8.5 pounds and was 21.5 inches long – small measurements that come with big responsibilities. As the father of a 6-year-old, I have some advice for her in this new endeavor.
Grandmas like to help, so let them. They’ll continually ask if you need any help and after awhile you’ll start feeling guilty that you’re taking advantage of them. Ignore this guilt, because they truly love helping you and spending time with the new grandchild. They’ve learned from all of the mistakes they made in raising their own children, and now want to show you how to properly be a parent.
Learn from their examples, but expect to make plenty of your own mistakes. Human nature practically dictates that we goof things up, even when it’s spelled out clearly and laid out right in front of us in an easy how-to guide that could ensure success.
One example: when your nephew, Braden, was a youngster, your sister and I said we’ll never take him to McDonalds. The food is unhealthy, and we don’t want him growing up to become a fat fast-food junkie. For a long time, we successfully avoided the place. And then one day, against our better judgment, we took him there. And now, every time we drive past some golden arches, we hear “Let’s go to McDonalds.” Ugghhh. I think the Happy Meal toys hooked him.
Enjoy the fact that he’s not mobile and can’t speak while you can, because once he moves and speaks, life will never be quiet again. I remember anxiously waiting for Braden to learn how to crawl and then walk, and waiting for him to say his first words, thinking he’ll be so much cooler to me once he did those things. Little did I know that he’ll never stop moving and he’ll never stop talking once he learns them.
Memories are short, so take lots of photos and videos, but don’t forget to write down the funny things they do. My long-term memory is garbage, so I’m thankful for the hundreds of photos we took as Braden was growing up. We’ve taken some video, but probably should have taken more.
Most people probably don’t think about putting the funny things to paper, but fortunately for your sister and me, and probably unfortunately for Braden, I’ve practically documented everything he’s ever done in this column, or on the “What did you expect…” page on the inside back cover. Reading about my kid has probably annoyed a lot of people over the years, but generally I hear from a lot more people that they like reading about my family because it reminds them of theirs. You’ll be amazed at how some of the seemingly personal occurrences are much more universal than you think.
My last piece of advice is to learn how to hold your ground. Kids, even at infant age, learn quickly that crying and throwing a tantrum is the easiest way to get what they want. It’s tough saying no, especially when you know that it’ll be easier on you if you give in. But it won’t, because the next time he’ll cry harder and throw a bigger tantrum. With Braden, I feel fortunate because we seldom gave in to him, so his tantrums are usually contained quickly. Nonetheless, he still throws them and occasionally we give in out of his sheer tenacity.
Some day, and maybe you can be the one, some parent is going to make it through his or her child’s younger years without giving in, and that child may grow up to be the most thoughtful, unselfish adult that has ever existed. And maybe that child could become a great president who solves many of the growing problems facing the world.
I know it’s wishful thinking, but every parent has hopes their kid will become president someday. I do, and there is no reason you shouldn’t expect it. So maybe that’s my really my last piece of advice: expect your kid to become president.
As a side note, take advantage of aunts and uncles – who miss having babies around – as babysitters. And call your sister for advice. She’s got plenty to give.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, July 15, 2011.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Stevens Point Fourth of July festivities bring out loads of good, just touch of bad
By JENNIFER STEUCKMy husband, Scott, the usual columnist here, and I were discussing the Fourth of July activities that took place in Stevens Point this past weekend. Those discussions, and perhaps a bit of writer’s block, prompted Scott to ask me to share some of those thoughts with you via his column.
Having lived in the greater Stevens Point area for three years, I’ve only ever attended Riverfront Rendezvous for the Friday night main stage performance. Typically, we travel to our hometown of Wautoma and spend Independence Day there. This year, though, we decided to take in the full extent of the Stevens Point festivities.
On Friday night, we attended Riverfront Rendezvous, mainly because Scott wanted to see Cory Chisel, the opening act. Having never heard him before, I was pleasantly surprised and enjoyed his performance very much. Scott and I often differ on musical tastes, so this was a nice reprieve.
Having only recently begun working in Stevens Point, I was pleased to run into several people I know, including my new co-worker, Cheri, and her friends, Tracy and Jennifer, who demonstrated the fine art of making your way to the stage during the Toad the Wet Sprocket performance. Typically, when I’ve attended local events in the past, my husband runs into several people he knows, while I watch from the sidelines knowing few people locally until recently.
On Sunday night, we attended the fantastic firework display with our friends, Brian and Johanna Sloss, and their children. I’ve always been a fan of fireworks and truly enjoyed the display… with the exception of the trees blocking some of our view from our spot on Water Street. I guess that’s what you get for parking your blanket closer to accessible side-street parking than at Pfiffner Park.
On Monday, we attended the parade downtown. I was pleased to see the attention to detail that the city places on promoting safety at such an event. The rope barricades were a nice touch, and made me feel more secure as a parent with having my fearless 6-year-old running loose. When he was a toddler, I had one of those kid leashes that looked like an animal backpack with a long tail. I admit that I used it. But I always knew where my child was. I really wish I could have one of those now. When he’s a teenager, he’ll probably despise me for the pictures of him on his kid leash.
There were two incidents during the entire weekend that didn’t sit well with me. While at the parade, a local politician’s aides were handing out fliers. Perfectly fine. In fact, I encourage that. However, one of those aides, and I won’t give away any names, handed my son a stack of pamphlets and told him to pass them around. I can assure you, that regardless of my political affiliations – I did vote for this person in the last election – I promptly trashed those items.
I feel it was rather inappropriate and presumptuous of the aide to request my son to pass them around. At 6, he has no concept of politics, and certainly no affiliations. I would advise any politicians, aides or volunteers who are reading this to reconsider if they are thinking about asking a child to assist them with their political literature.
My second concern took place when two sets of parents sitting to the left of me got into a rather vehement argument over candy. Yes. Parents, arguing over candy. From what I could tell, one set of parents accused the other set of parents of taking candy from their child. The other set of parents responded, using some very inappropriate words in a very loud voice. You can likely imagine what those words were, without me spelling them out.
I’ll admit that I’ve been known to use a curse word or two. And truthfully, I recognize it for the dirty habit it is, and am trying to break that bad habit. As you can imagine, when frustrated, you may hear the words sugar and fudge come out of my mouth in an angry tone…if you happen to be there, please forgive me. I’m trying desperately to replace much worse words.
This parental “exchange” got me to thinking about the holiday, and all that it stands for. How we as Americans are guaranteed the right to speak our minds as a part of the First Amendment. I think this is wonderful. However, I do wish that others would remember when invoking their First Amendment right, that just because they want to say it, doesn’t mean I want to listen to them, and I certainly do not want my child to.
Editor’s note: Jennifer Steuck is the wife of Scott Steuck, the Portage County Gazette managing editor who normally writes this column. He didn’t have much to say, so he thought he’d turn the space over to Jennifer, who always has plenty to say.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, July 8, 2011.
Having lived in the greater Stevens Point area for three years, I’ve only ever attended Riverfront Rendezvous for the Friday night main stage performance. Typically, we travel to our hometown of Wautoma and spend Independence Day there. This year, though, we decided to take in the full extent of the Stevens Point festivities.
On Friday night, we attended Riverfront Rendezvous, mainly because Scott wanted to see Cory Chisel, the opening act. Having never heard him before, I was pleasantly surprised and enjoyed his performance very much. Scott and I often differ on musical tastes, so this was a nice reprieve.
Having only recently begun working in Stevens Point, I was pleased to run into several people I know, including my new co-worker, Cheri, and her friends, Tracy and Jennifer, who demonstrated the fine art of making your way to the stage during the Toad the Wet Sprocket performance. Typically, when I’ve attended local events in the past, my husband runs into several people he knows, while I watch from the sidelines knowing few people locally until recently.
On Sunday night, we attended the fantastic firework display with our friends, Brian and Johanna Sloss, and their children. I’ve always been a fan of fireworks and truly enjoyed the display… with the exception of the trees blocking some of our view from our spot on Water Street. I guess that’s what you get for parking your blanket closer to accessible side-street parking than at Pfiffner Park.
On Monday, we attended the parade downtown. I was pleased to see the attention to detail that the city places on promoting safety at such an event. The rope barricades were a nice touch, and made me feel more secure as a parent with having my fearless 6-year-old running loose. When he was a toddler, I had one of those kid leashes that looked like an animal backpack with a long tail. I admit that I used it. But I always knew where my child was. I really wish I could have one of those now. When he’s a teenager, he’ll probably despise me for the pictures of him on his kid leash.
There were two incidents during the entire weekend that didn’t sit well with me. While at the parade, a local politician’s aides were handing out fliers. Perfectly fine. In fact, I encourage that. However, one of those aides, and I won’t give away any names, handed my son a stack of pamphlets and told him to pass them around. I can assure you, that regardless of my political affiliations – I did vote for this person in the last election – I promptly trashed those items.
I feel it was rather inappropriate and presumptuous of the aide to request my son to pass them around. At 6, he has no concept of politics, and certainly no affiliations. I would advise any politicians, aides or volunteers who are reading this to reconsider if they are thinking about asking a child to assist them with their political literature.
My second concern took place when two sets of parents sitting to the left of me got into a rather vehement argument over candy. Yes. Parents, arguing over candy. From what I could tell, one set of parents accused the other set of parents of taking candy from their child. The other set of parents responded, using some very inappropriate words in a very loud voice. You can likely imagine what those words were, without me spelling them out.
I’ll admit that I’ve been known to use a curse word or two. And truthfully, I recognize it for the dirty habit it is, and am trying to break that bad habit. As you can imagine, when frustrated, you may hear the words sugar and fudge come out of my mouth in an angry tone…if you happen to be there, please forgive me. I’m trying desperately to replace much worse words.
This parental “exchange” got me to thinking about the holiday, and all that it stands for. How we as Americans are guaranteed the right to speak our minds as a part of the First Amendment. I think this is wonderful. However, I do wish that others would remember when invoking their First Amendment right, that just because they want to say it, doesn’t mean I want to listen to them, and I certainly do not want my child to.
Editor’s note: Jennifer Steuck is the wife of Scott Steuck, the Portage County Gazette managing editor who normally writes this column. He didn’t have much to say, so he thought he’d turn the space over to Jennifer, who always has plenty to say.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, July 8, 2011.
Festivus will continue in wake of great man’s death
Although we never actually used a Festivus pole and celebrated the fictitious Seinfeld television show holiday, my father-in-law, Bradley Drews, and I always joked around that we would. After all, who wouldn’t want to celebrate a holiday that features the “Airing of Grievances” and “Feats of Strength”?
Festivus can only end when the head of the household is wrestled to the floor and pinned during the “Feats of Strength.” If we had celebrated the holiday, this would have meant wrestling my father-in-law, or Grandpa as we preferred to call him, to the floor and pinning him. If we had tried, though, we would have failed, because Grandpa was a big man, both in physical appearance and in importance. As a result, Festivus would have continued indefinitely.
But Grandpa is no longer with us, as his nearly two-year battle with colon cancer ended this week. His death leaves everyone who knew him sad, because of his larger-than-life status and the joy he brought to them with his dry sense of humor, his help-everyone attitude and his ability to make people feel good about themselves. But making people sad is the last thing he would have wanted, so I’m going to make sure the Festivus holiday we unofficially celebrated just by joking around about it does continue indefinitely.
While accompanying him during his final days, as countless people came to say goodbyes, many stories were shared about him. These stories amazed me, because looking at my own life I have only a few that could be compared to his many – some I have only because he was involved with them.
In one of his stories as a boy, he convinced his younger brother that the boy was Batman. While doing the Batman song, he told his younger brother to jump off the roof of the house and employ his Batman gliding abilities. The boy did so, quickly falling to the ground and breaking his arm.
Many years later, with three girls of his own, he convinced one of their friends – a city girl visiting their country home – that the dinner he was making was going to be good, because the roadkill he was using was fresh. I understand the look of horror on her face was priceless.
Another time, while fishing with his brother-in-law, a man who thought he was the ultimate fisherman, Grandpa quietly taunted him with each big fish he reeled in as his brother-in-law failed to generate even a bite. Grandpa believed this type of teasing was great, but only if it could be backed up with actions and not just words, as he proved over and over again that day.
One of my favorite stories is the time he went through a fast food drive-through and talked as though he was “breaking up,” much like the fast food workers sound through the junky speaker systems they have to use. He and the guy he was with were apparently laughing so hard about this they could hardly place their order.
Plenty of his stories involve my son, his grandson Braden. When Braden dropped a hat light he had gotten him into a river, Grandpa knew he needed to rescue it. On his way down the riverbank, he slid into a pile of mud, messing himself enough that Grandma said he needed to take his clothes off before getting into her vehicle. So, on the way back, he rode in the vehicle wearing nothing but his underwear. The picture she snapped of this spectacle was made even more hilarious by the smirk under his big moustache, a moustache he was never without and that he told his daughters when they were younger he had because he had no upper lip.
At his favorite place, his cottage on Spring Lake near Wautoma, he had a big treasure chest, which he convinced Braden he got after battling pirates on the lake and beating them in a sword battle. Braden loves telling this story to everyone who asks.
Once at the lake, he planted a fake skeleton on the bottom of the lake, proudly boating people over it and telling them to look at it, often causing them to gasp in semi-horror until realizing it wasn’t real.
I could fill this entire newspaper with more stories, as they are truly endless. Before he left us, he said if we need some good stories about him we should just call one of his friends who apparently have many more that will make us laugh for years to come.
But Grandpa wasn’t all funny stories. Simply put, he was the greatest man I’ve ever known. His actions in helping others made him a loud presence, despite his tendency to be quieter than most people. I can’t count the number of times I saw him helping others – even when he wasn’t physically up to it – and making sure their needs were met before his.
When my own father died when I was 21, I didn’t know how to deal with it. I shut down and didn’t talk about it. It wasn’t until I met Jenny, my wife, and he became involved in my life that I opened up again. He knew I needed that father figure, and he quickly became it. As a result, I became the son he didn’t have, although I didn’t have any of the know-how skills he had an abundance of.
There’s an expression that suggests women marry guys just like their fathers. I might disagree with this, and say guys marry women with fathers just like them. I only hope I can be half the man he was.
In the “Airing of Grievances” during Festivus, people are supposed to let it all out and tell others how they’ve disappointed that person over the past year. With Grandpa, though, that’s something we could never have done because disappointing others is something he didn’t do. It’s a model we all hope to live up to as we continue our lives and remember how valuable he was to us.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, July 1, 2011.
Festivus can only end when the head of the household is wrestled to the floor and pinned during the “Feats of Strength.” If we had celebrated the holiday, this would have meant wrestling my father-in-law, or Grandpa as we preferred to call him, to the floor and pinning him. If we had tried, though, we would have failed, because Grandpa was a big man, both in physical appearance and in importance. As a result, Festivus would have continued indefinitely.
But Grandpa is no longer with us, as his nearly two-year battle with colon cancer ended this week. His death leaves everyone who knew him sad, because of his larger-than-life status and the joy he brought to them with his dry sense of humor, his help-everyone attitude and his ability to make people feel good about themselves. But making people sad is the last thing he would have wanted, so I’m going to make sure the Festivus holiday we unofficially celebrated just by joking around about it does continue indefinitely.
While accompanying him during his final days, as countless people came to say goodbyes, many stories were shared about him. These stories amazed me, because looking at my own life I have only a few that could be compared to his many – some I have only because he was involved with them.
In one of his stories as a boy, he convinced his younger brother that the boy was Batman. While doing the Batman song, he told his younger brother to jump off the roof of the house and employ his Batman gliding abilities. The boy did so, quickly falling to the ground and breaking his arm.
Many years later, with three girls of his own, he convinced one of their friends – a city girl visiting their country home – that the dinner he was making was going to be good, because the roadkill he was using was fresh. I understand the look of horror on her face was priceless.
Another time, while fishing with his brother-in-law, a man who thought he was the ultimate fisherman, Grandpa quietly taunted him with each big fish he reeled in as his brother-in-law failed to generate even a bite. Grandpa believed this type of teasing was great, but only if it could be backed up with actions and not just words, as he proved over and over again that day.
One of my favorite stories is the time he went through a fast food drive-through and talked as though he was “breaking up,” much like the fast food workers sound through the junky speaker systems they have to use. He and the guy he was with were apparently laughing so hard about this they could hardly place their order.
Plenty of his stories involve my son, his grandson Braden. When Braden dropped a hat light he had gotten him into a river, Grandpa knew he needed to rescue it. On his way down the riverbank, he slid into a pile of mud, messing himself enough that Grandma said he needed to take his clothes off before getting into her vehicle. So, on the way back, he rode in the vehicle wearing nothing but his underwear. The picture she snapped of this spectacle was made even more hilarious by the smirk under his big moustache, a moustache he was never without and that he told his daughters when they were younger he had because he had no upper lip.
At his favorite place, his cottage on Spring Lake near Wautoma, he had a big treasure chest, which he convinced Braden he got after battling pirates on the lake and beating them in a sword battle. Braden loves telling this story to everyone who asks.
Once at the lake, he planted a fake skeleton on the bottom of the lake, proudly boating people over it and telling them to look at it, often causing them to gasp in semi-horror until realizing it wasn’t real.
I could fill this entire newspaper with more stories, as they are truly endless. Before he left us, he said if we need some good stories about him we should just call one of his friends who apparently have many more that will make us laugh for years to come.
But Grandpa wasn’t all funny stories. Simply put, he was the greatest man I’ve ever known. His actions in helping others made him a loud presence, despite his tendency to be quieter than most people. I can’t count the number of times I saw him helping others – even when he wasn’t physically up to it – and making sure their needs were met before his.
When my own father died when I was 21, I didn’t know how to deal with it. I shut down and didn’t talk about it. It wasn’t until I met Jenny, my wife, and he became involved in my life that I opened up again. He knew I needed that father figure, and he quickly became it. As a result, I became the son he didn’t have, although I didn’t have any of the know-how skills he had an abundance of.
There’s an expression that suggests women marry guys just like their fathers. I might disagree with this, and say guys marry women with fathers just like them. I only hope I can be half the man he was.
In the “Airing of Grievances” during Festivus, people are supposed to let it all out and tell others how they’ve disappointed that person over the past year. With Grandpa, though, that’s something we could never have done because disappointing others is something he didn’t do. It’s a model we all hope to live up to as we continue our lives and remember how valuable he was to us.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, July 1, 2011.
Zoosh technology could make for cool future
I just got a glimpse of the future
Going public for the first time this week, Silicone Valley-based Naratte announced its new technology, which it calls Zoosh, will enable cell phones, tablets, iPods, computers, televisions, cash registers and many other computer-type devices to communicate with each other using ultrasonic technology. Zoosh literally uses the speaker on a device as a transmitter and the microphone on the other device acts as a receiver.
What does this mean to the average person?
Such communication will allow phones to become wallets, as people can make payments simply by placing their phones near a Zoosh-enabled cash register. People can also store gift cards, store loyalty cards and coupons on their devices, which can also be read upon check out.
It also allows for people to quickly exchange contact information or computer files that need to be swapped. As someone who has to think hard about how to add a contact into my cell phone, this is a much needed technology.
The technology has countless other possible uses – including ticket redemption, gym check-in and proximity-based gaming – but the big one is likely to be what takes place at the check-out counter.
Right now, I primarily use a debit card, but I would gladly welcome the opportunity to simplify that process by simply waving my phone next to the cash register. Debit cards are easy, but they can often be frustrating when the card reader asks more questions than the gas pump (Would anyone have been able to make sense of this statement 15 years ago?).
Naratte estimates contactless payments like this will reach $300 billion by 2014. That’s a staggering figure, but one I don’t doubt. Through the ages, the whole point of technology has been to make life easier for people – although I’m sure those who don’t like computers would disagree – and Zoosh seems to do that.
I was able to get a glimpse of this technology, which is scheduled for implementation in Chicago, Ill., at the end of the July, because Naratte’s chief development officer, Byron Alsberg, is a childhood friend of mine from Neshkoro I recently caught up with for the first time in nearly 14 years when I went to San Francisco in January.
Byron told me a little bit about Zoosh then, but he was limited on what he could tell me until the company was ready to go public with it. He sent me a “Launch Deck,” which is the fancy Californian phrase for “press packet” us Midwesterners won’t start using for at least another five years, outlining many of the details about his company’s endeavor.
He said other companies are coming out with technologies that will allow for similar transfer of information, but Zoosh is the only one that employs ultrasonic technology, which he said is fast, secure, reliable and, probably most importantly, inexpensive. Nearly all devices and apps will just need free updates to use it, and many vendors will be able to implement it for no cost at all, and at a max, for $30. He said many companies with popular apps are currently in the process of integrating Zoosh into them.
Hopefully this future isn’t too scary for people. I did ask Byron if he knew when Skynet will go online. He didn’t have an answer, but he did say all of his company’s software does carry Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics inside. I’m pretty sure Skynet’s technology did too, though.
Oh well. Life could literally be a blast with a robot-started nuclear holocaust.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 24, 2011.
Going public for the first time this week, Silicone Valley-based Naratte announced its new technology, which it calls Zoosh, will enable cell phones, tablets, iPods, computers, televisions, cash registers and many other computer-type devices to communicate with each other using ultrasonic technology. Zoosh literally uses the speaker on a device as a transmitter and the microphone on the other device acts as a receiver.
What does this mean to the average person?
Such communication will allow phones to become wallets, as people can make payments simply by placing their phones near a Zoosh-enabled cash register. People can also store gift cards, store loyalty cards and coupons on their devices, which can also be read upon check out.
It also allows for people to quickly exchange contact information or computer files that need to be swapped. As someone who has to think hard about how to add a contact into my cell phone, this is a much needed technology.
The technology has countless other possible uses – including ticket redemption, gym check-in and proximity-based gaming – but the big one is likely to be what takes place at the check-out counter.
Right now, I primarily use a debit card, but I would gladly welcome the opportunity to simplify that process by simply waving my phone next to the cash register. Debit cards are easy, but they can often be frustrating when the card reader asks more questions than the gas pump (Would anyone have been able to make sense of this statement 15 years ago?).
Naratte estimates contactless payments like this will reach $300 billion by 2014. That’s a staggering figure, but one I don’t doubt. Through the ages, the whole point of technology has been to make life easier for people – although I’m sure those who don’t like computers would disagree – and Zoosh seems to do that.
I was able to get a glimpse of this technology, which is scheduled for implementation in Chicago, Ill., at the end of the July, because Naratte’s chief development officer, Byron Alsberg, is a childhood friend of mine from Neshkoro I recently caught up with for the first time in nearly 14 years when I went to San Francisco in January.
Byron told me a little bit about Zoosh then, but he was limited on what he could tell me until the company was ready to go public with it. He sent me a “Launch Deck,” which is the fancy Californian phrase for “press packet” us Midwesterners won’t start using for at least another five years, outlining many of the details about his company’s endeavor.
He said other companies are coming out with technologies that will allow for similar transfer of information, but Zoosh is the only one that employs ultrasonic technology, which he said is fast, secure, reliable and, probably most importantly, inexpensive. Nearly all devices and apps will just need free updates to use it, and many vendors will be able to implement it for no cost at all, and at a max, for $30. He said many companies with popular apps are currently in the process of integrating Zoosh into them.
Hopefully this future isn’t too scary for people. I did ask Byron if he knew when Skynet will go online. He didn’t have an answer, but he did say all of his company’s software does carry Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics inside. I’m pretty sure Skynet’s technology did too, though.
Oh well. Life could literally be a blast with a robot-started nuclear holocaust.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 24, 2011.
Challenges always come with moves, despite hopes
Over the course of many moves during my lifetime, I’ve learned each one comes with at least one challenge. I was hoping to avoid any challenges in moving from an apartment in Plover my family and I have lived in for the last three years to a new house we built in Stevens Point. I should have known better.
Things went well at first, as one advantage into moving into an unoccupied home is you don’t have to wait until the previous tenants get out, which meant we were able to move items over to the house over the course of more than a month, easing the burden we had to bear for the big moving day on Thursday, June 9. And with the help of some friends, we were able to clear out our garage and a storage unit in May.
Moving day seemed to go well, too. It was just my wife, Jenny, and me, and a truck and trailer lent to us by our friends. We emptied out nearly all the big items in our apartment and had it unloaded in our house by 11 a.m. We figured the remaining stuff would go over in the next load.
Almost all of it did, starting with our washer and dryer. While Jenny was able to help me carry out and unload all other big items, the washer and dryer were too heavy. So we did so in short bursts in which we lifted it one or two inches off the ground and as far as possible. Going down stairs, we relied mainly on gravity as we banged down from one step to the next.
After unloading them in the garage, we left them there until a friend could help me carry them in. Although I’m not mechanically inclined, I was able to figure out how to hook them up, much to my delight.
It wasn’t until we used the washer that we discovered all was not well. A crack in the bottom of the washer – one that probably occurred during the move – caused water to spill out onto the floor, as well as my heart in hope of completing a perfect move.
The washer was eight years old, so I wasn’t completely upset we had broken it. We knew the lifespan on these things didn’t exceed much longer. I was more upset about going through the hassle of moving it, only to have it mean nothing. It’s worse than writing an article, not saving it and having the power go out as you are about to complete it. Any journalist who says this has never happened to him or her probably isn’t telling the truth.
We bought a new washer later that day, much to Jenny’s pleasure since it was a front-loader she’s always wanted. I was satisfied knowing she didn’t need a matching dryer.
The other challenge occurred both before and after the move: finding, and then installing, a mailbox.
As long as I’ve been living on my own, I’ve never owned a mailbox. It’s always been apartment mailboxes or post office boxes.
For months, we shopped for a mailbox. We liked some of them, but couldn’t fathom spending $80 or more just for the box. For that price, it should pay the bills it’s mainly used for.
After moving and knowing we needed to install one soon, we decided to go with a less expensive one, even if it didn’t have the look we wanted.
Installing it over the weekend had its own challenge: bedrock. We live in a rocky area, and the first hole I started to dig ended when I encountered a large rock halfway down. Not wanting to bother with the hassle of digging around it, I started over. Although I didn’t encounter any big rocks, I met enough smaller ones that the process took a lot longer and was much messier than I anticipated.
In the larger picture, those challenges weren’t horrible. But we’re not done, yet. We still have pictures to hang on the walls. That’s never fun.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 17, 2011.
Things went well at first, as one advantage into moving into an unoccupied home is you don’t have to wait until the previous tenants get out, which meant we were able to move items over to the house over the course of more than a month, easing the burden we had to bear for the big moving day on Thursday, June 9. And with the help of some friends, we were able to clear out our garage and a storage unit in May.
Moving day seemed to go well, too. It was just my wife, Jenny, and me, and a truck and trailer lent to us by our friends. We emptied out nearly all the big items in our apartment and had it unloaded in our house by 11 a.m. We figured the remaining stuff would go over in the next load.
Almost all of it did, starting with our washer and dryer. While Jenny was able to help me carry out and unload all other big items, the washer and dryer were too heavy. So we did so in short bursts in which we lifted it one or two inches off the ground and as far as possible. Going down stairs, we relied mainly on gravity as we banged down from one step to the next.
After unloading them in the garage, we left them there until a friend could help me carry them in. Although I’m not mechanically inclined, I was able to figure out how to hook them up, much to my delight.
It wasn’t until we used the washer that we discovered all was not well. A crack in the bottom of the washer – one that probably occurred during the move – caused water to spill out onto the floor, as well as my heart in hope of completing a perfect move.
The washer was eight years old, so I wasn’t completely upset we had broken it. We knew the lifespan on these things didn’t exceed much longer. I was more upset about going through the hassle of moving it, only to have it mean nothing. It’s worse than writing an article, not saving it and having the power go out as you are about to complete it. Any journalist who says this has never happened to him or her probably isn’t telling the truth.
We bought a new washer later that day, much to Jenny’s pleasure since it was a front-loader she’s always wanted. I was satisfied knowing she didn’t need a matching dryer.
The other challenge occurred both before and after the move: finding, and then installing, a mailbox.
As long as I’ve been living on my own, I’ve never owned a mailbox. It’s always been apartment mailboxes or post office boxes.
For months, we shopped for a mailbox. We liked some of them, but couldn’t fathom spending $80 or more just for the box. For that price, it should pay the bills it’s mainly used for.
After moving and knowing we needed to install one soon, we decided to go with a less expensive one, even if it didn’t have the look we wanted.
Installing it over the weekend had its own challenge: bedrock. We live in a rocky area, and the first hole I started to dig ended when I encountered a large rock halfway down. Not wanting to bother with the hassle of digging around it, I started over. Although I didn’t encounter any big rocks, I met enough smaller ones that the process took a lot longer and was much messier than I anticipated.
In the larger picture, those challenges weren’t horrible. But we’re not done, yet. We still have pictures to hang on the walls. That’s never fun.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 17, 2011.
Human training wheels don’t work for learning kids
Only when I decided I was no longer going to be human training wheels did my 6-year-old son, Braden, learn how to ride his bike.
Braden received the bike, an 18-inch-wheeled BMX-styled Huffy, for his fifth birthday, and it came with a set of normal training wheels.
The training wheels stayed on the bike through the spring and summer, but they came off in the fall. “You’re a big boy now, and you need to ride your bike without the training wheels,” I told him.
After an unsuccessful lesson in the fall – one I didn’t expect to be successful given it was the first time he was trying – he lost interest in his bike and didn’t ask to try again.
The bike went unused this spring, too, because its tires lost their air over the winter and I never got around to inflating them until just several weeks ago. I was not going to let the new air in those tires go to waste, and decided Braden was going to learn how to ride bike this summer.
The first four lessons were failures. Braden enjoyed it when I followed right behind him, making sure he didn’t fall over, but anytime I let him try on his own, he fell over and lost immediate interest in pursuing the endeavor. I made him continue, but it was a vicious cycle that kept repeating itself.
I tried having him try to balance his bike while sitting on it and not moving. I even threw in a little “Star Wars.” “Feel the force flowing through your body,” I told him. The Force was weak in him, though, as he couldn’t balance the bike.
I tried bribes. “If you ride your bike, we can call Grandpa and let him know you did it,” I said, knowing he loves to call Grandpa with good news. It’s much better than when we call Grandpa to let him know Braden was being bad.
And I tried mental tricks on him. “I was 5 when I learned how to ride a bike, and you’re 6 and can’t do it,” I told him, hoping this technique would work, although psychiatrists would probably not recommend it.
It didn’t, but it allowed me to remember how my dad had taught me how to ride a bike. Although my memory is sketchy, I remember it taking just one lesson. He simply put me on the bike, pushed me for a little bit and then let me go. After a few crashes, I realized they hurt and if I didn’t want that occurring, I had to learn how to ride on my own.
I took Braden on the grass and told him I wasn’t going to be his human training wheels anymore. He was either going to fall or he was going to learn how to ride it on his own.
Just as it had occurred when I was 5, several pushes later, he was riding the bike on his own. By the end of the lesson, he was going across our yard, the driveway and the neighboring yard. It made me proud. It also made him proud, since I had told him he needed to learn how to do it by the end of summer. He managed to do so one day after his school got out for the year.
Now, he just needs to learn how to completely tie his shoes on his own to have a successful summer.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 10, 2011.
Braden received the bike, an 18-inch-wheeled BMX-styled Huffy, for his fifth birthday, and it came with a set of normal training wheels.
The training wheels stayed on the bike through the spring and summer, but they came off in the fall. “You’re a big boy now, and you need to ride your bike without the training wheels,” I told him.
After an unsuccessful lesson in the fall – one I didn’t expect to be successful given it was the first time he was trying – he lost interest in his bike and didn’t ask to try again.
The bike went unused this spring, too, because its tires lost their air over the winter and I never got around to inflating them until just several weeks ago. I was not going to let the new air in those tires go to waste, and decided Braden was going to learn how to ride bike this summer.
The first four lessons were failures. Braden enjoyed it when I followed right behind him, making sure he didn’t fall over, but anytime I let him try on his own, he fell over and lost immediate interest in pursuing the endeavor. I made him continue, but it was a vicious cycle that kept repeating itself.
I tried having him try to balance his bike while sitting on it and not moving. I even threw in a little “Star Wars.” “Feel the force flowing through your body,” I told him. The Force was weak in him, though, as he couldn’t balance the bike.
I tried bribes. “If you ride your bike, we can call Grandpa and let him know you did it,” I said, knowing he loves to call Grandpa with good news. It’s much better than when we call Grandpa to let him know Braden was being bad.
And I tried mental tricks on him. “I was 5 when I learned how to ride a bike, and you’re 6 and can’t do it,” I told him, hoping this technique would work, although psychiatrists would probably not recommend it.
It didn’t, but it allowed me to remember how my dad had taught me how to ride a bike. Although my memory is sketchy, I remember it taking just one lesson. He simply put me on the bike, pushed me for a little bit and then let me go. After a few crashes, I realized they hurt and if I didn’t want that occurring, I had to learn how to ride on my own.
I took Braden on the grass and told him I wasn’t going to be his human training wheels anymore. He was either going to fall or he was going to learn how to ride it on his own.
Just as it had occurred when I was 5, several pushes later, he was riding the bike on his own. By the end of the lesson, he was going across our yard, the driveway and the neighboring yard. It made me proud. It also made him proud, since I had told him he needed to learn how to do it by the end of summer. He managed to do so one day after his school got out for the year.
Now, he just needs to learn how to completely tie his shoes on his own to have a successful summer.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 10, 2011.
New house will be open for people to see during Parade of Homes
My family’s new home, which we’re not even living in yet, will be open to the public Friday through Monday, June 3-6, during the Golden Sands Homebuilder’s Association’s (GSHBA) annual Parade of Homes.
Located at 2324 Falcons Cove in the Eagle Point subdivision on the north side of Stevens Point, the home was built by Heartland Custom Homes of Plover.
The main reason it’s on the tour is timing. The timing of our decision to build the home, and Heartland’s schedule in finishing it, coincided with the Parade of Homes. Since many GSHBA builders, such as Heartland, like to feature homes in the parade, it made perfect sense for the builder to feature our home.
When first asked if we would like to do so, my wife and I hesitated. We weren’t building a big fancy house, the kind we associated as with being in these events.
In fact, our house was pretty simple, in our opinion. The 1,660-square-foot ranch-style home with three bedrooms and two bathrooms compares well with the average home in that it’s large enough to suit our needs and not too big to be out of our means.
But Jason Jones and Brice Nelson, the Heartland representatives who have made the home-building process a breeze for us, told us Heartland would rather feature this type of home than a more lavish one that would be unaffordable for most people. Sure, they are nice to look at, but you don’t want to give people the impression you only cater to the rich, they said.
That made sense to us, so we agreed to be one of 19 houses from 15 different GSHBA builders on the Parade of Homes.
While this decision has delayed us moving into our home by several weeks – as we probably could have moved in last week already – it’s allowed us to take our time in making sure everything is ready for the move-in. In the last several weeks, my wife and I have moved everything over from a storage unit and our garage, as well as some of the things from our apartment we don’t use on an everyday basis.
We’ve hung window shades and curtains, finished touch-up painting, built a new desk and living room furniture (coffee table, end table and TV stand), organized the kitchen and completed the two bathrooms.
Most importantly, we finished our son Braden’s room. An Indiana Jones-themed room, it has three posters of the first three “Indiana Jones” films. The fourth one was not included because I refuse to accept its existence, although Braden likes it. It also has some archaeologist-type décor, such as a globe and an Egyptian Sphinx.
My wife and I both decided the room is cooler than anything we had growing up. Braden thinks so, too, and can’t wait to move in. We’re just hoping he can keep it cleaner than his current room.
We will be there for some of the Parade of Homes, mainly to tell people how smooth the building process was for us. Before we started, we heard from many people about how it can often hurt marriages because of disagreements about how things should be done.
But Heartland made everything so simple by clearly laying out our options. The only disagreement my wife and I ever had dealt with selecting a refrigerator, and that had nothing to do with Heartland. Ultimately, my wife won that one, and I’m glad she did, because it’s one of the coolest things – literally and metamorphically – about the house.
More information about GSHBA and the Parade of Homes, including a map of the parade homes, can be found under the “Parade of Homes” link online at www.gshba.org or by calling 715-341-3536.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 3, 2011.
Located at 2324 Falcons Cove in the Eagle Point subdivision on the north side of Stevens Point, the home was built by Heartland Custom Homes of Plover.
The main reason it’s on the tour is timing. The timing of our decision to build the home, and Heartland’s schedule in finishing it, coincided with the Parade of Homes. Since many GSHBA builders, such as Heartland, like to feature homes in the parade, it made perfect sense for the builder to feature our home.
When first asked if we would like to do so, my wife and I hesitated. We weren’t building a big fancy house, the kind we associated as with being in these events.
In fact, our house was pretty simple, in our opinion. The 1,660-square-foot ranch-style home with three bedrooms and two bathrooms compares well with the average home in that it’s large enough to suit our needs and not too big to be out of our means.
But Jason Jones and Brice Nelson, the Heartland representatives who have made the home-building process a breeze for us, told us Heartland would rather feature this type of home than a more lavish one that would be unaffordable for most people. Sure, they are nice to look at, but you don’t want to give people the impression you only cater to the rich, they said.
That made sense to us, so we agreed to be one of 19 houses from 15 different GSHBA builders on the Parade of Homes.
While this decision has delayed us moving into our home by several weeks – as we probably could have moved in last week already – it’s allowed us to take our time in making sure everything is ready for the move-in. In the last several weeks, my wife and I have moved everything over from a storage unit and our garage, as well as some of the things from our apartment we don’t use on an everyday basis.
We’ve hung window shades and curtains, finished touch-up painting, built a new desk and living room furniture (coffee table, end table and TV stand), organized the kitchen and completed the two bathrooms.
Most importantly, we finished our son Braden’s room. An Indiana Jones-themed room, it has three posters of the first three “Indiana Jones” films. The fourth one was not included because I refuse to accept its existence, although Braden likes it. It also has some archaeologist-type décor, such as a globe and an Egyptian Sphinx.
My wife and I both decided the room is cooler than anything we had growing up. Braden thinks so, too, and can’t wait to move in. We’re just hoping he can keep it cleaner than his current room.
We will be there for some of the Parade of Homes, mainly to tell people how smooth the building process was for us. Before we started, we heard from many people about how it can often hurt marriages because of disagreements about how things should be done.
But Heartland made everything so simple by clearly laying out our options. The only disagreement my wife and I ever had dealt with selecting a refrigerator, and that had nothing to do with Heartland. Ultimately, my wife won that one, and I’m glad she did, because it’s one of the coolest things – literally and metamorphically – about the house.
More information about GSHBA and the Parade of Homes, including a map of the parade homes, can be found under the “Parade of Homes” link online at www.gshba.org or by calling 715-341-3536.
****
Originally published in The Portage County Gazette on Friday, June 3, 2011.
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