A BOX TO KEEP IT IN

Monday, July 31, 2006

One thing is for sure: unpacking breeds shopping. It is an unbelievable phenomenon, to have so much stuff and yet, after everything is in place, actually need more.

The coffee pot needed something to rest on. The bathrooms needed different towels. The kids had no hanging artwork (their old rooms were wildly painted). The pots with sticks needed new sticks. And so on.

As I examined exactly what we were purchasing, I began to realize that most of it could be categorized as containers. We are willing to pay a lot for containers. For things that originally had other containers. And sometimes, the new containers cost absurdly more than the contents they'll hold.

For example, cotton ball containers. Consider this one sold by Linens & Things:

It's a veritable cotton temple. I know people who live in houses less nice.

Now, turning our attention to the contents. When the Johnson & Johnson people make cotton balls, they do package them well, in a paper nonreactive lining, and a sturdy cardboard box. Most people store their cotton balls in a closet or a drawer, and the box is plenty good enough. And you could buy 2,000 cotton balls for the price of a cotton ball container.

And yet, Linens & Things does a good business in cotton ball containers. And a lot of other containers, actually. Paper clip baskets, moisturizer bottles, photo boxes, wrapping paper keepers... even a system that sorts dirty laundry. For the most part, all these things were either contained by something else for free, or don't really need to be contained by anything in the first place.

My dad used to say that the only thing left to get someone who has everything, is a box to keep it in. Given the rise of Linens & Things, Bed Bath & Beyond, The Container Store, and so many more, I think we can assume that Americans are approaching the having-everything limit. What's next? Maybe we will be buying containers by the gross at Costco?

WELL, THAT WAS FUN - PART II

Thursday, July 20, 2006

We did move on the 15th -- hottest day of the year and unseasonably warm for San Diego at 89 degrees -- to a home with NO AIR CONDITIONING. Bleh.

The apartment was all ready to go, and then the 2 PODs showed up:

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  And several days of movers and car trips later, we were IN. Of course, it did look like this for a good long period:
  
  But then my mom and stepdad promptly showed up and we unpacked with brute force. Honestly I am not sure exactly when certain things actually happened... in part because we were unpacking in 90 degree heat and in part because it was such a concentrated period... but oddly enough, about a week later and through a blur of activity, it looks like we actually do live there, instead of just store things there. And somehow we managed to take the kids to camp and I went to work. We survived and then some. Though the washing machine is making an Odd Whirring Noise it never made before. A small price to pay.
  
  Of course, we are going through some interesting phenomena that I would imagine most people go through when they first move into a place:
  
  
• I know it's here somewhere. The feeling you unpacked something and put it away, but now it's nowhere to be found.
• Why haven't I seen ____? The feeling that you had to have packed an item, but it's not coming out of any of the boxes.
• I'm up when I should be down. The thing that you want is on a completely different floor.
• But this is where we had it before. Desperate feeling that your things don't quite fit in the house.
• What in tarnation is THIS? Thing you find that somehow, even though it has been packed and unpacked 3 times in the past 6 months, you still cannot identify it. These are potentially hardware belonging to furniture that will fall over without it.
• Wow this is dirty. Realization that you have packed dirt from the old house and are unpacking it at this one.

There were definitely feelings of squalor... we had no food for the first couple days and no time to go to the grocery. But finally, we feel like we are somewhere permanent. The kids went to bed that first night with big smiles on their faces. That was a pretty good feeling.

WELL, THAT WAS FUN - PART I

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

It's amazing how much controversy that last post unearthed!

Some people thought it was funny and could relate to it. Some were thrown into self-reflection. One of my friends went so far as to propose a theory that our kids will grow up not knowing how to take care of themselves considering so many people are taking care of their every need.

Some found it incensing and could not believe that I could actually pine for male behavior that in some respects kept women repressed and in kitchens instead of office buildings. Some thought I was wholly unobservant and from Planet Clueless.

And although I have been both praised and skewered on a daily basis, which is tiring... I think all this discussion and opinion is GOOD! What happened in prior generations is that people simply plugged-into their gender roles and did not openly question them. This created oppression because people lacked choice. Now many life options are available for parents. There is no One Right Way. And we do have the prior generation to thank for that.

I did learn something on vacation though. I'm trying not to double-team the kids so much anymore. Not that I've actually stopped checking the expiration dates on all the medicines and the sugar content on the packaged cereals... I'm just remembering that it only takes one of us to wipe up a spill or supervise a potty break. Next step: start a food fight. (Okay maybe there are steps in between...)

IN MEMORIAM: DADS

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Last week, we were on vacation in Florida.

I won't go into detail about the vacation itself. You don't need to hear about our 2 kids on the all day airplane rides from coast to coast. You also do not need to hear about the thunderstormy Florida humidity. The kids swam for many hours every day, we ate out a lot, visited with my family and all the little cousins, and counted down the days till we could move into our new house.

Actually the highlight of the trip from a pure tourism perspective was watching a dozen alligators jump for organ meat on a stick at the zoo. And who could blame them. Who doesn't enjoy a nice spleen.

Anyway, I digress terribly because this post is not about any of those things. It's about my worry that fatherhood as we once knew it has disappeared.

We spent the early part of the vacation, as I said, with my brother and sister and their kids and spouses. We are all bright human beings with really great roles in society. An attorney, a nonprofit marketing director, a rabbi, and a teacher. And Don and me.

And yet, when you add 4 kids to the mix -- even when 1 is 8 years old going on 40 -- it's like none of us can manage our way out of a paper bag. The different eating, sleeping, playing, and socializing schedules boggled the mind. When we made a meal together, it looked like we had fed the 3rd Legion.

And this post isn't about any of those things either. It's about what I observed when the balls were all in play. We all chased our kids around with kleenexes, favorite toys, sunblock, and Cheerio baggies. ALL of us. All 6 of us.

Flash back to my childhood. My mom did all those things. My dad... well, he was Funny Dad. He didn't wipe our noses or smear us with the sunblock, usually. I suppose on the odd moment when my mom was trying to use the rest room or give birth, and he HAD to, he did it. But in general, he was there for clueless comic relief and also, did the driving.

Watching my family last week, I get the feeling that Funny Dad doesn't really exist anymore. When there are 2 working parents as there often are, everyone's roles blur. But what happens is that everyone becomes Mom. You don't have 2 Funny Dad's, you have 2 frazzled people who are chasing and wiping and bathing. In other words, 2 Moms.

I am not so sure this is a good thing. Funny Dad was a brilliant thing to have. He was more like a kid in some ways, so he was more relatable. (He didn't understand my mom either and got sent to his room too.) You could always count on Funny Dad to mess things up really horribly and laugh hysterically. Taught us to laugh at ourselves. And that's a pretty good skill.

I am not sure what Don's dad was like growing up, but I have a feeling he was somewhere in between TV Dinner Dad and Pull My Finger Dad. 2 genres that are as much a relic as Funny Dad. TV Dinner Dad teaches you that it's okay to take some time out for yourself... even when it's the most inconvenient time possible for everyone else. Pull My Finger Dad teaches you... hm, maybe that one ought to be retired, after all.

Nonetheless, I'm sure that most of you reading this had a dad type that's now a dinosaur of sorts. And actually it makes me a little sad. Our kids will all grow up washing their hands at the appropriate times and they'll be very good sleepers... but will they be light and free and just enjoy being themselves? Who's teaching them that?

OK, don't get all mad at me. Me and my Big Career perpetuate much of this. And I like sharing the load with Don (even though I have to admit, it doesn't go both ways, I can't change the oil for example) and I think it helps our girls to have a male role model that knows their inner workings, and not just their favorite ice cream or something. Still, I feel it's incumbent on me to keep part of Funny Dad alive. A half hour more of glitter paint and no bath ain't going to hurt anyone.

NOMADIC CHAOS

Here we are moving again! We went on vacation last week -- which I'll cover in a separate post -- and then came home and immediately started transitioning into the new house. It's a great feeling. But I do have to say, moving is still a crapfest. We actually have both the house and the apartment to our names at this point, and yet, nothing feels like home. Again with the homeless feeling! And there are boxes absolutely everywhere. I think I even had a dream about boxes.