Tumbling with Free Will

Dear J,

You discovered dandelions for the first time this weekend. In many ways, you force us to slow down and see what you see. Because otherwise we’d be too busy or distracted to notice that amazing things happen around us.

Last night, you fell asleep with this book called Bumblebugs and Elephants. There are a few books you enjoy reading over and over before bed time. You yell at us not to turn the lights off so you can keep reading.

We tell you, “Okay, one last time.” You nod and repeat, “One last time.” You love reading. When each book ends, you say “The end. Again?” In this way, you’ve memorized many books. You can recite “Goodnight Moon”.

FIVE “one last times” later… you finally agree to go to bed. But you clutch your book tightly, look at me and say, “Joshua wants to hold Bumblebug book?” So you went to sleep with your head on the book. The other book you like is:

I tempt you to bed by flying you up to the ceiling and back down into bed. Your eyes light up when you notice how close you are to the ceiling (and the fish projected on it by your night light).

It’s getting very hard to get you to do things. You know what you want, and you don’t want anything else. Sometimes, it’s hard to hear “No daddy no!” or when you point somewhere far away and say, “Daddy, go over there”, or when you get annoyed and push me away, “No daddy No!”

Every day is mental wrestling to get you to the dinner table, to eat, to go upstairs for bath time, to floss you or brush your teeth. I share Dave Chappelle’s feeling… the inside of my mind has scars like Denzel’s back in Glory from battling you. There really is no tougher negotiation adversary than a kid.

But it’s tough because we make the tough choices.

I remember arguing with my parents when I was a younger, particularly when they told me I made them upset or angry or whatever. I’d shout back, “Then why did you have me in the first place?” That usually made my dad redder and my mom silent.

I don’t think anyone really decides to have kids. And if they do, they’re lying if they say they were ready. It can get tough. Divorce rates are insane, and it’s not surprising that most divorces happen shortly after the first child is born. The first child is somewhat like the boxer’s maxim: “Everyone has a plan until they get hit.”

The tough choice is doing the right thing. Choosing to talk and reason with a child instead of hitting can be challenging at the end of a grueling day.

But that’s the decision we make every day. Kimi pisses me off still. Each time you cry, even if it’s fake, she wails and howls with you. I want to split her in two, but you’re watching… and your mom doesn’t want you to see me do reverse taxidermy. But the difference is Kimi’s a beast I can push around, yell at, lure with treats, etc.

Speaking of treats, I discovered you really like Goldfish, and you like them even more because we won’t let you have them because they’re not nutritious. But, your mama has banned me from using Goldfish as “rewards” to “train” you to do things. I guess the saying is true: behind every successful superhero is a woman who stops him from becoming a supervillain.

What I’m trying to say is: Persuasion only exists when there is free will. Many people may tell you persuasion is bad… you’re controlling people’s minds, etc. Bullshit. The only reason persuasion exists is because we happen to live in a world where you can’t force people to do things. If force was allowed, there will be no persuasion.

For example, if Kimi jumped on the couch, I’d just boot her off. If you jumped on the couch, the negotiation begins.

All we have are our words and our mind. It applies to everything. Words are all we have when people have free will.

If you accept this, then you will also accept that all POWER comes from knowing how to use words to persuade. And, that power comes from being a student of Psychology and Behavior.

You know what we’re missing these days? Imagination. Look around – we have tons of ways to make our shitty lives easier, but too few ways to escape it. There used to be a time when “building blocks” toys like Lego only came as building blocks. Now, they come pre-designed, so you can only make one thing with it. Further back, kids only had a stick and a rock. They used their minds to conjure castles and dragons.

I fear that as we get more advanced, we rely less on our imagination. Then, like a useless appendage, one day it’ll atrophy so much it’ll fall right off.

The good news is imagination something we’re all born with… most people just let it die.

Meanwhile, your imagination grows:

“Tanvi pushed Joshua…”
“Oh no… that’s not nice.”
“It was an accident!”
“Oh?”
“Accident pushed Joshua. Joshua cried.”

Abu Vicky says this is about the time you’ll start creating imaginary friends. I guess Accident has become your evil imaginary friend.

Your mind is amazing:
“Red Rhino has a horn”
(you trace it with your finger)
“Beep! Beep!”

Sorry, this letter’s going to be a little long… I had put off writing to you again, so I’ve got week’s worth of stuff to catch up on in this one.

But I’m happy to report that I’ve redone my night-time schedule, and I’ve clear slots for writing now. Hopefully this will help me write to you more consistently:

6.30 – Dinner
7.00 – I do dishes, mama cleans table, puts stuff away, then plays with you. I join later.
7.30 – Wrangle you for potty time, then bath time
8.20 – Wrangle you to floss, brush and get ready to sleep
8.40 – You ask for milk
9.00 – Your chattering and singing eventually stop as you drift to sleep
9.01 – Emails + Tea
9.30 – Reading/Research/Prep
10.00 – Break/Bath
10.30 – Power work
11.30 – Break
11.45 – Easy work / writing
12.45 – Wind down for sleep

As you can see, Tea is now on the schedule. Green Tea. I sip it while waiting for you to fall asleep. It replaced beer. During the day, I’ve replaced coffee with tea too. It’s probably placebo, but I feel a little healthier.

You get it, but you don’t like it
You’re old enough now that you can understand and accept just about anything, if we prep you mentally for it. But just because you get it, doesn’t mean you like it.

One morning, I dropped you off at day care because mama was too tired. I tried to ease you into your routine, but as I put your things away, you knew I had to leave and you didn’t like it. I showed you toys you liked, books you love. You’d briefly stop crying to take a look at them, then cling to me and cry again. Then Ms Marsha picked you up, and you yelled at me and stretched your arms and legs toward me. I waved goodbye and tried to smile to show you it’s going to be okay. I don’t know. Is it? You’re supposed to cry when separated from your dad. It doesn’t get any easier.

Like that one morning, you told mama: “I don’t want to see Miss Sue. I want to stay with daddy.” 🙁

Oh, you’ll be proud of me. Remember I said I was going to start a writing guide? I finally did it!

It hurts to have hope in people
The more I learn, the more it hurts. The more I understand the real reasons why a very few people succeed, and why many people fail. I want to help them. But I can’t. I realize the only person I can help is myself. The true nature of the universe decides you can’t change the facts: Only a few people will be winners, while most will be losers. You can’t help losers. Trying to do so will only bring you misery. You really can’t help those who aren’t willing to help themselves. They want wealth to be redistributed. Even if you did that, they’d spend it on things that don’t improve their situation permanently. Like things, rather than the knowledge to earn money to buy things.

I try, I really do. I write my heart out. I try to say something in a unique way to get it to stick. (Except for these letters. They’re just garbage because I take my relationship with you for granted). But they don’t want to read. They say they want to learn and improve, but they aren’t willing to work. They want junk food. They want candy. They aren’t willing to make sacrifices. They won’t eat their vegetables, instead festering rotten minds…

… Whiners and complainers. Talkers, not doers. Wantrepreneurs. Beware of them.

Mommy-Daddy pranks while you’re asleep
Your mom and I are playing an odd trick on each other now. We trick each other into sleeping more. When we put you to sleep, we tend to fall asleep ourselves, on the floor, on the couch or next to you. The last time, I didn’t wake your mom up when I left the room, to force her to catch up on sleep. The next time, she left me sleeping on the couch. I woke up at midnight and asked her what happened to 3 hours! She shrugged and said “I woke you up – you said okay and went back to sleep.” I said “But that wasn’t me you were talking to!” Funny thing is I thought that night was when I could escape early too. I remember thinking, “Wow, he’s already quiet so quickly – I can escape early today!”

Round Table man delivered pizza. You said, “The man is green!” Mama: “No, his shirt was green.”

You saw a rock and climbed it… ignoring mom’s protests. “Joshua climbed on top of the rock. The rock was warm!”

Yellow flower for mama
We picked a yellow flower for mama today. When we got back, most of the petals were missing because you were spinning it and plucking it throughout the whole car ride home.

This is your ritual before going home…
We pick up your lunchbox, then you run out. You point at the lion on the corkboard and say “Roar!”, then a picture of you on another corkboard in the hallway. You press your nose against the aquarium, ooh and aah, point at each of the fish, then say byebye. You wait for me to open the main door for you, then remind me, “I wanna go ding!” I let you out, you make a quick left and ding the bell on the potted plant by the door.

Then, you jump on to the yellow square at the edge of the parking lot. “Step!” Then you hold my hand to cross to the other yellow square. “Step!”, you hop onto it and admire your feet. Once I get you moving again, you pause, “I want to pick a yellow flower. For mama.” “No plucking today – just touch it.” “TOUCH!” You jab with a finger.

Then we go down the stairs, to a school’s basement entrance, then back upstairs again. “I wanna touch the purple flower?” Okay. Then you want to walk on the pink and grey stone walk. You walk on the wood chips. Then balance along the pink line at the edge of the sidewalk. Then back again. Then you walk round and round… as I constantly try to coax you to the car. Finally, I strap you in, and we can go.

Pockets are magical
“Where are silver car and red car?” There was nothing in your cubby at school. We got home and looked all over. Then overturned the car, looked in all your toy bins at home. We forgot about them, until mama discovered as she was reading your “Baby on the Way” book: “There are cars in his pockets!”
This is how much you like your pockets.

Getting over fears
Now, you exclaim with pride, eyes wide, “Joshua made a big kaka!” When mama throws it away, you say, “Joshua needs to make a different kaka now”

No, Sun, NO!

You love singing so much, you wake up singing “You Are my Sunshine”. Mama heard you on the monitor and smiled. Then when she went to open the curtain, you said “No sun no!” with arms crossed like Dracula. Then when she closed it you said: “It’s dark…” Mama laughed, “What do you want?!” You were in a good mood that day.

Now that it’s spring, it’s bright on our drive back from daycare. I hear, “NO SUN NO!” and look up to see the sunbeams flashing across your face. I try to explain it’s temporary, and you just have to wait, while I weave traffic to hunt for shade. You curse, “I don’t like sun!”

No tail, but…
You were going wowowowo like a doggy as I strapped you in one day. I asked you, “Are you a doggy?” You smiled.
“Do you have ears like a doggyyyyyyy?”
You went, “YAaaaaaaaaaaaa!” (and touched your ears)
“Do you have a tail like a doggy?”
You shouted, “NOOOOOOOOO!” (shaking your head wildly)
What I didn’t expect you to say next was:
“Joshua has penis and booty!”

Not sure if dog?
At potty time, Kimi licked you. Then Kimi licked me. I explained, “Kimi licks because she likes you. Doggies lick when they like you.”
Then you go “Kimi licks like this” and you lick your lips and point at your tongue. Then you try to lick me. “Nooooo, only dogs lick.”

It’s been a half a year since Puerto Rico, and you still talk about the island. I wonder if it’s committed to your long-term memory now, and if you’ll remember it for life. Pretty cool for a memory at age 1. You remind us of the fishies swimming to the island, and lately you added “snake swimming to the island”.

What’s amazing is you’re describing old scenes with more words and filling in the details. Like Abuelo’s big white truck. That’s old. What’s new is, “Daddy opened the door on the other side. Joshua was driving on this side, and daddy opened the door on the other side.” Crazy memory. You stored the pictures, even though we hadn’t helped you refreshed them with words.

By the way, your little sister’s doing great. Everything’s moving much faster this time, and Mama’s hurting more than when she had you. Doctor says the 2nd pregnancy is usually worse. But good news is she’s finally done with that tape-out period of manic working nights and weekends, and she’s finally able to get a full night’s sleep again. At least, when she decides to go to sleep.

Love,
Dad

P.S. It’s your birthday next week. If anyone asks “How old are you?”, Mama taught you the answer. And check out your throwing accuracy!