Time flies when you're having fun, eh? Lil' S2 will turn three in August which means he qualifies to start PK3 in the fall. PK3 is perhaps the best part of DC schools. It's good for kids developmentally, and it's good for families financially. I believe we made our last daycare payment recently (I don't know for sure because S handles all the finances in our household), which means it's the end of an era -- and a welcome one at that. In a few short months, it will be no more daycare for the G & G family -- well, most likely, anyway. In theory, S and I could still have another kid, but it's not something we are planning. In fact, it's something we are actively trying to avoid, but, without getting too inappropriate, let's just say, it wouldn't be a miracle if another one entered the picture.
But assuming that unlikely possibility does not come to bear, we are done with daycare. That's thousands of dollars a year that will no longer be leaving our bank account. If I ever actually logged in and looked at our account summary this might mean something to me. Actually, it will affect my day-to-day life positively in that Lil' S2 will be going to the same school as his brother in the fall, which means one-stop drop-off/pickup. That is huge. Money is nice and all, but I'll take quality of life improvements over financial gain nine times out of ten. What good is being wealthy if you're miserable?
Speaking of which, I'm halfway through Tiger Woods, by Armen Keteyian and Jeff Benedict. It's a very compelling biography of one of the weirdest dudes in sports history. His parents, particularly his dad, essentially raised him from birth to be the world's greatest golfer, and it worked -- no golfer has ever been as good as Tiger in his prime -- but not without some pretty severe side effects. I won't go into it too much here, but I will say that I recommend the book if you're looking for a compelling page-turner. For the most part it's an interesting exploration of the growth of a child prodigy into a middle age man, but it's got just a hint of trashiness to it -- with all the sex and drugs and whatnot -- which makes it extra fun to read.
It also makes me respect Lebron James more. James, like Woods, was designated the "chosen one" in his sport before he finished high school, and he also lived up to it. But unlike Tiger, he seems to be an incredibly well-adjust dude and a good family man, all things considered. Of course, outward appearances can always be deceiving.
I just read that James played the last three games of the finals with a broken hand sustained when he punched a whiteboard in frustration after his team lost Game 1 in heart-wrenching (and tragically hilarious) fashion. This is more common than it sounds. I know at least four people who have inflicted a nontrivial injury on themselves in a moment of frustration. One of my friends in high school made his knuckles swell up by punching a CD case on the floor after I beat him in a Nintendo game; another one broke his toe kicking a wall after losing a point in racquetball; another one had to wear a splint on his finger after punching a wall during an argument with his wife; and my "favorite" one, a guy I knew briefly bloodied his knuckles by punching through a window after he caught his girlfriend in a compromising act with another man. I've hurt myself in many different ways, many different times -- I stabbed myself with scissors and had to get stitches; I turned myself purple, literally, dark purple, by sitting out in the sun for hours without protection; and I once had to go to the ER because I swallowed a plastic fork tine -- but these were out of thoughtlessness or klutziness. I can't think of a time I injured myself out of frustration.
In other sportsball news, the Washington Capitols won the Stanley Cup to give my current home city its first championship in over 25 years. I actually jumped on the Caps bandwagon before the playoffs started, so I'm pretty happy about it. There are a few guys at work I've bonded with over this team. It's not even close to when the Seahawks won the Super Bowl -- it's more like when the Sounders won the MSL Cup two years ago. It's just not the same with a team you adopted as an adult -- and that's not a bad thing. It's pathetic to have your mood deeply affected by a bunch of professional athletes to whom you have no really connection other than they happen to play (at the moment) for the team you like. With the Capitols I didn't pay any attention in the regular season, and then I watched most the playoffs and was entertained. Had they lost I would have quickly put it out my mind. A lot of joy, little pain. That's the way it sports should be -- the good should drastically outweigh the bad. Otherwise, why do it?
I hope my sons like sports, so that it becomes something we can do together. But at the moment, it's not looking great. Lil' S1 is still young enough that he could come around -- I didn't get into sports until I was six or seven -- but he shows very little interest at the moment. I'm going to get him a baseball mitt for his birthday, maybe that will help. Lil' S2 is way too young to tell, but he does seem to be an aggressive kid, more so than Lil' S1 was at his age I think, so that bodes well. I'm very conscientious about not pushing them hard in any particular direction. A little nudge here or there is fine, but if they're not into it, they're not into it. I'm not Earl Woods.
Well, that's about all I have time for this week. This might be my last post for a few weeks, as we have a vacation planned, and I'm not bringing a computer.
Until next time...
But assuming that unlikely possibility does not come to bear, we are done with daycare. That's thousands of dollars a year that will no longer be leaving our bank account. If I ever actually logged in and looked at our account summary this might mean something to me. Actually, it will affect my day-to-day life positively in that Lil' S2 will be going to the same school as his brother in the fall, which means one-stop drop-off/pickup. That is huge. Money is nice and all, but I'll take quality of life improvements over financial gain nine times out of ten. What good is being wealthy if you're miserable?
Speaking of which, I'm halfway through Tiger Woods, by Armen Keteyian and Jeff Benedict. It's a very compelling biography of one of the weirdest dudes in sports history. His parents, particularly his dad, essentially raised him from birth to be the world's greatest golfer, and it worked -- no golfer has ever been as good as Tiger in his prime -- but not without some pretty severe side effects. I won't go into it too much here, but I will say that I recommend the book if you're looking for a compelling page-turner. For the most part it's an interesting exploration of the growth of a child prodigy into a middle age man, but it's got just a hint of trashiness to it -- with all the sex and drugs and whatnot -- which makes it extra fun to read.
It also makes me respect Lebron James more. James, like Woods, was designated the "chosen one" in his sport before he finished high school, and he also lived up to it. But unlike Tiger, he seems to be an incredibly well-adjust dude and a good family man, all things considered. Of course, outward appearances can always be deceiving.
I just read that James played the last three games of the finals with a broken hand sustained when he punched a whiteboard in frustration after his team lost Game 1 in heart-wrenching (and tragically hilarious) fashion. This is more common than it sounds. I know at least four people who have inflicted a nontrivial injury on themselves in a moment of frustration. One of my friends in high school made his knuckles swell up by punching a CD case on the floor after I beat him in a Nintendo game; another one broke his toe kicking a wall after losing a point in racquetball; another one had to wear a splint on his finger after punching a wall during an argument with his wife; and my "favorite" one, a guy I knew briefly bloodied his knuckles by punching through a window after he caught his girlfriend in a compromising act with another man. I've hurt myself in many different ways, many different times -- I stabbed myself with scissors and had to get stitches; I turned myself purple, literally, dark purple, by sitting out in the sun for hours without protection; and I once had to go to the ER because I swallowed a plastic fork tine -- but these were out of thoughtlessness or klutziness. I can't think of a time I injured myself out of frustration.
In other sportsball news, the Washington Capitols won the Stanley Cup to give my current home city its first championship in over 25 years. I actually jumped on the Caps bandwagon before the playoffs started, so I'm pretty happy about it. There are a few guys at work I've bonded with over this team. It's not even close to when the Seahawks won the Super Bowl -- it's more like when the Sounders won the MSL Cup two years ago. It's just not the same with a team you adopted as an adult -- and that's not a bad thing. It's pathetic to have your mood deeply affected by a bunch of professional athletes to whom you have no really connection other than they happen to play (at the moment) for the team you like. With the Capitols I didn't pay any attention in the regular season, and then I watched most the playoffs and was entertained. Had they lost I would have quickly put it out my mind. A lot of joy, little pain. That's the way it sports should be -- the good should drastically outweigh the bad. Otherwise, why do it?
I hope my sons like sports, so that it becomes something we can do together. But at the moment, it's not looking great. Lil' S1 is still young enough that he could come around -- I didn't get into sports until I was six or seven -- but he shows very little interest at the moment. I'm going to get him a baseball mitt for his birthday, maybe that will help. Lil' S2 is way too young to tell, but he does seem to be an aggressive kid, more so than Lil' S1 was at his age I think, so that bodes well. I'm very conscientious about not pushing them hard in any particular direction. A little nudge here or there is fine, but if they're not into it, they're not into it. I'm not Earl Woods.
Well, that's about all I have time for this week. This might be my last post for a few weeks, as we have a vacation planned, and I'm not bringing a computer.
Until next time...
No comments:
Post a Comment