In practice, this means we want to emphasize skills that the kids will be using the rest of their lives (problem solving, cooperation, basic hygene).  But kids aren’t adults, so there are some things we end up doing for them, like zipping up coats.  And there’s some behavior that they get away with that wouldn’t fly if they were 32 instead of 2.  Here I’m thinking of the kicking and screaming that accompanies bedtime.  Or taking off the diaper and running around the house completely pantsless.

Anyway, I got to thinking about sharing.  Charlie is not good at sharing.  He’s like most two year olds, he has no problem taking other people’s stuff but is loath to hand his own stuff over to anyone, Gus included.

Most other parents make a big deal about sharing, and seem to take it as a badge of pride how well their kids share.  But from a child-raising standpoint, what’s the point of all that?  At what point in my adult life is sharing ever really called for?

For instance, I’ve got a kickin’ new car.  I enjoy driving it around immensely.  But nobody seems to think worse of me that I haven’t walked to the next door neighbor’s house and said, “Hey, Denise, this car is awesome!  Would you like to take a spin?”  In fact, other than the stapler, I can’t think of anything that I’m expected to “share”.

When adults do it, we don’t call it “sharing”.  We call it “borrowing”.  With the implicit idea that the guy who owns the thing is doing a favor to the guy who’s using it, and the guy using it needs to bring it back promptly in the same condition it left.

So that’s the adult world.  Where did this sharing business for kids come from?  I have a couple of theories.  One is that it’s a way of maintaining the peace.  At least with our two boys, the most likely source of conflict is when they both want to hold the same item.  (Usually it’s Gus who wants to hold whatever Charlie is holding, actually.)

Although I wouldn’t be my father’s son if I didn’t also think of a cranky, paranoid, quasi-McCarthyite conspiracy theory.  As someone who grew up in the 80′s, I can verify that the hippies took over the education system, and have been indoctrinating the youth of America with their love-the-world malarkey ever since.

So maybe this whole sharing thing is just a plot to get children to reject reactionary, capitalist ideas like private property and embrace the socialist future, where the people (under the loving guidance of their all-embracing government) own everything in common.  Imagine no possessions!  I wonder if you can?

Just a theory.  But I’m not going to take any chances. As I see it, Charlie is a capitalist with his own stuff and a socialist with everyone else’s stuff, so he’s got it half right.  So my plan is to teach him to respenct other people’s stuff, and if he wants to use it, to ask politely, and say “thank you”, as befits someone who’s doing you a favor.  (This might take some doing…)

And if another kid tries to use his stuff without asking, I dunno.  Maybe ask if he’s got something to trade.  Never too soon to figure out how to bargain.

Between you and me, I love it! I’ve been looking forward for a while. Although, what a bunch of downers there are in this town. Every time I say, “I’m looking forward to the winter. I love bad weather,” everyone says the exact same thing: “Yeah, well, you won’t be saying that in March when it’s still bitterly cold.”

And they’re right. I probably won’t be saying that in March. But who cares? This is like people spending all May saying, “Oh, yeah, the weather’s just glorious now, but you know what? It’s going to be August before you know it, and it’ll be hot and the mosquitos will be eating us alive!”

I find inclement weather invigorating. Extreme hot and extreme cold, but more so the cold for some reason. Not so much when I’m standing around in it, but when I get home to the climate control, I feel terrific.

Now if only it would start snowing…

By the way, are we allowed to say “Indian Summer” anymore? Man, I hope so, because I totally did.

• 3 Avocados. (I usually use Hass avocados, the black ones. But the green ones work okay as well.)
• 1 lime or lemon (I prefer lime, but I won’t think worse of you if you use a
  lemon)

• 1 small clove of garlic, minced
• 1/4 small red onion, minced
• 1 chili pepper, Jalapeno or Serrano, minced. The raw kind, the not the ones that come in a jar that you put on nachos
• 10 sprigs of cilantro (optional), minced
• Salt
• Ground cumin

The secret to awesome guacamole is in the avocados. If you use bad avocados, you’ll probably have bad guacamole. So before we get to how to make it, let’s start with:

Famous J’s Guide to Buying Avocados

The problem with avocados is that once they’re ripe, the bruise very easily. And bruised avocados make for bitter tasting guacamole. If you buy them ripe at the store, they’ve been dropped, kicked, rolled, used for bowling. And that’s the store employees. The customers are even worse.

Instead, find avocados that are hard as rocks. Take them home and leave them on the counter in a brown paper bag. Every day or two, give them a gentle squeeze. Once they’ve softened up, put them in the refigerator, where they’ll keep for about a month.

If you don’t want to wait a week before making guacamole, try to find avocados that are soft but don’t have any obvious dents. And buy an extra one or two, in case you need to scoop out the bruises.

Okay, now on with the show!

1. Cut the avocados in half lengthwise. Twist to pull the halves apart. If the avocado has any gray spots, dig those out and discard.

2. Use a spoon to scoop the green, fatty goodness into a bowl. (Note: if the avocados are ripe, this should be very easy. If you get lots of resistence, the avocados are under-ripe. This isn’t a catastrophe, but you’ll have somewhat chewy, sub-optimal guacamole.)

3. If you aren’t going to be serving immediately, reserve an avocado pit.
4. Add the juice from half of your lemon or lime.
5. Add the garlic, red onion, chili pepper, and the cilantro, if you’re a fan of that most polarizing herb. Personally, I love the stuff. I’d eat cilantro-flavored ice cream, if anyone had the guts to make it.
6. (If you’re like me, you rarely have a jalapeño on hand, but you always have Sriracha. The famous Rooster Sauce. So substitute a squirt of the Rooster for the jalapeño.)
7. Add a pinch of salt and a smaller pinch of cumin.
8. Mix all the ingredients with a fork, mashing the avocado while you do this.
9. Adjust the seasoning, adding more salt or juice as needed.
10. Avocado reacts to air, turning gray and bitter. If you aren’t going to serve immediately, cover the guacamole by pressing plastic wrap directly onto the surface.
11. Serve with chips, or just eat it straight out of the bowl with a spoon. Sure people will point and make snide comments, but life’s too short to worry about that.

First, if you haven’t read the story of Gus’s birth, or you want to recapture the magic, you can read about it here. It’s amazing.

What I left out of that story is that Gus had a birth defect. We knew that going in. It was a rare issue where his esophagus didn’t develop correctly and the two ends of it didn’t connect. It would have to be treated with surgery. There was a 98% chance that the bottom end would have fused to his trachea. In that case, it would be a really straightforward procedure to reconnect the ends and we’d be headed home about a week after he was born. There was a 2% chance it didn’t connect to the trachea. Then there’d be a big gap between the two ends. In that case…

Well, we didn’t think too much about that case. It would be tricky. We’d be dealing with bad options and worse options. But the first scenario was both way more likely and much easier to contemplate. Or should I say, I didn’t think too much about it. I’m pretty sure Sherry was wracked with worry the whole time.

Well, Gus was born suddenly and with some frantic car chase action, and except for the defect, he was totally healthy. Although he almost immediately started choking on his own saliva. So it was off to the NICU for him. Hopefully for not too long…

Then they did the first in a series of X-Rays. And the part we hadn’t thought about, the 2% chance, that’s what Gus had. And the two ends were a long, long way apart.

Our surgeon, Dr. Coln, performed a series of procedures on him to speed up the growth of the two ends. This entailed applying stitches to the two ends, and progressively tightening them. But to keep the little guy from pulling the stitches out, they had to paralyze him completely. For three weeks.

This was probably the hardest thing I’ve had to go through. Gus was so little and helpless, with so many wires and cords and cables hooked up to him. He was breathing by machine, which looked so unnatural. I still get really sad thinking about it.

Despite these efforts, the stitches came out two times and had to be reconnected. Then, when they came out the third time, Dr. Coln decided to do the final connection. A little ahead of schedule, but it was a success! We didn’t realize he was going to do that until it was all over with. It was one of the best surprises I’ve had.

This is still an experimental procedure he performed. I think it’s in the single digits the number of babies who have had it done. We’re very lucky to have had Dr. Coln.

A few infections and some problems with his plumbing generally kept us in the hospital for a whole other month. But eventally, we got the all-clear
and we headed home. After 107 days. Over three months.

People say things like, “I don’t think I could handle having a baby in the hospital for three months!” But it’s a matter of perspective. You don’t look at it as having a baby in the hospital for three months. You take it one day at a time, because that’s the only way to do it. You have a baby in the hospital and you go visit. And then you go home without the little guy and you know you’ll have to go back tomorrow.

I remember that that’s the time in my life when I felt most in the moment. I didn’t spend much time thinking about the future or the past. Despite the fact that I finished grad school in the middle of that. (With honors, not that anyone asked.) And we had another baby at home who, despite being very independent, needed lots of love and attention. He was still a baby after all.

You can’t go through an ordeal like that unchanged. It does something to you. Although I didn’t realize it at the time. The daily routine of going to work, going to class, going to the hospital, going home, maybe sneaking a Bread Company shortbread cookie, even though it’s totally not on The Program. It all grinds away at you but too slowly to notice it happening.

Then one day, sometime after Gus had already come home, I got a message from an old friend from way back, who mentioned that nobody had seen anything from the old self-loathing J. Instead they kept hearing from this guy who talked about finding joy in your life and counting your blessings and other deeply uncynical things like that.

I think the self-loathing version of myself is gone for good. There’s a fine line between self-loathing and self-pity. And ultimately, it’s all a luxury. It’s an indulgence for people whose problems aren’t so big they can’t spare some of their emotional reserves feeling sorry for themselves. I decided at some point that didn’t have time for any of that crap. And after Gus came home, I didn’t start up again. I don’t know if I’m a better person for it, but I’m probably a lot easier to deal with.

I think the other thing that’s probably gone is any chance for me to live the corporate lifestyle. If I ever get a chance to take a 100% travel job, I probably can’t do it. Whether the boys really need me or not, I feel like my place is at home with the family. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

And I have a job that ends around 5 in the evening every day, and I drive 20 minutes home to see them. I’m really fortunate for that. (See, there I go again with the counting my blessings crap…)

Well, over two-thirds of Gus’s life was spent outside of a hospital, although that’s hard to believe sometimes. It’s been a roller coaster. But the lows just make the highs that more exciting. Learning to eat. Pulling himself up. Going two straight days without throwing up. Despite seeing these before with Charlie, they’re still new and magical. And coming home from the hospital was almost as exciting as the day he was born. Although I drove quite a bit slower.

He’s come such a long way. He weighs less than we’d like and he’s a little bit behind in his physical development, but he’s catching up fast. Hopefully this time next year, he’ll be indistinguishable from all the other two year olds. You know, other than being quite a bit handsomer.

But what amazes me most is that, in spite of everything he’s been through, Gus is still, hands-down, the happiest baby I’ve ever seen. He’s twice as happy as Charlie, who was the previous winner for world’s happiest baby. With the start he’s had, he’d be totally within his rights to be the most crabby, fussy baby around. But he’s not.

And now he’s turning one! Here’s hoping for many more years!