Yesterday was Calfgrit7’s first day of 2nd grade, in a new school, on a new year-round calendar. He was nervous, as was expected, but he took to it all just fine. We were all in the van to take him in, but we couldn’t find a parking spot — everyone was doing the same that first day — so Cowgrit (who was driving) dropped CG7 and me off. I carried his school supplies in a Target bag, and CG7 hauled his backpack.

The local TV news crews were on hand, filming and talking with the principle and teachers. When we walked in the front door, there were eight women in school t-shirts in the main hall greeting everyone as they entered. We (Cowgrit, CG7, and myself) had visited last Thursday for the open house to see the inside of the school, find the classroom, and meet the teacher. So CG7 and I made our way directly to his classroom without delay.

Other parents were in the room with their 2nd graders, and we all hung around and talked for ten minutes or so. We talked to the teacher, again, and eventually CG7 was comfortable enough for me to leave. He gave me a big hug and I left him. I snapped a picture of him talking with his classmates and teacher as I walked out the door.

One of the fun things about living in America is the wonderful diversity that keeps you from making assumptions. CG7’s teacher has a Spanish first name, a Scottish last name, but is of Asian decent. At first, we had only known her last name, Mrs. Scottish-name, so when we met her in person, it was a fun surprise to see that our natural expectation was completely wrong.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

It had been a rainy weekend, and I and the boys really needed to get out of the house. And I needed some time without the boys all over me, needing me every minute of the day. Sometimes it seems like the children are just crawling over me — and sometimes they literally are. So I had the idea to take them to Jumpin’ Beans, an indoor, blow-up, play ground.

I had never been to Jumpin’ Beans, but Cowgrit had taken the boys there a couple of times over the years. The place is great. There are tables set up around the play area, and the mesh “windows” let parents see right into the area. There’s even a big-screen monitor set up showing a high-camera view of the play area.

There were less than a dozen other kids in the business, so there was less potential for crashes between running and bouncing children. I took two bottles of water for the boys, and a PC Gamer magazine for me. I expected to be able to sit in peace — though not in quiet, but I can tune out the roar of the play — and read my magazine for a little while. We got there just before 4:00 Sunday afternoon, and the business closes at 6:00. I hoped I’d get the full two hours of relaxing time while the boys played out all the energy they’d had bottled up all weekend.

But it seemed like every few seconds one of the boys, especially Calfgrit3, came out of the play area and wanted my attention. CG3 wanted a sip of water, wanted to tell me something “awesome” that just happened, wanted to give me a high five, wanted to run over to a different part of the place (so I had to get up and move to keep him in my sight), etc. Every time I tried to read my mag, he interrupted me. Or Calfgrit7 came to the nearest mesh window to tell me something.

I’d read a few sentences, and then be interrupted. When the CG went back to his play, I looked at the magazine page, looked for where I had left off, and read another sentence before being interrupted again. Oh my God! Can’t they just play and leave me to read for 10 minutes? I love my boys, and I love it when they’re excited, but for the love of sanity, I just wanted a little non-daddy time this weekend.

To see if the reality matched my perception, I decided to test the situation. When CG3 ran back to play, I noted the exact time. When he or CG7 came back and wanted my attention again, I noted the exact time. I ran this test for 15 minutes, and I found that my perception was exactly reality.

The longest time I was left alone was 2 minutes, 30 seconds. The shortest amount of time was 45 seconds. That means, during that 15 minute test period, I was interrupted from trying to chill out and read about 10 times; about once every 90 seconds.

Well, at least Jumpin’ Beans burned out most of the energy they had bottled up. It probably would have killed me to have to wear them out that much, all by myself.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

Our family played some Memory with Bob the Builder cards this weekend, and both Calfgrits showed they have solid memories. (Memory: lay cards face down, turn over two at a time, see if you get a match.) I was really surprised at how well both of them did.

Calfgrit7 just totally ruled this game. We had 36 cards laid out, and he was remembering matches left and right. And Calfgrit3 remembered cards he saw when he was paying attention, but he often was distracted or trying to get attention by acting silly.

Cowgrit and I were barely getting any matches because CG7 just didn’t make a mistake. Where we might be off by one card, CG7 remembered precisely where each card he had seen was in the 6×6 rows. Now, in my and Cowgrit’s defense, CG3’s antics were very distracting — he was trying to distract us, to get attention.

But even without the distraction, CG7 would have won that game. He and I played a game just before the big family game, and we tied 9 matches to 9 matches. But in the family game, it wasn’t even close — he had about 10 matches, and the rest of us put together had about 8.

I’ve got to play this game with him some more. I want to pay closer attention to him, and the game. I also want to know if all kids are naturally good at this kind of game, or if he really is that damn good.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

The boys and I saw part of a TV program showing a martial arts expert breaking bricks. Calfgrit7 asked me to stop on that channel to see what was going on. We’ve seen part of this show before, but I don’t know the name of it. They use science to check sports facts and myths (it’s not Mythbusters), and this particular episode was checking if shouting or grunting made any real difference in an athlete’s power.

We watched a guy break 10 concrete bricks with his forearms with and without a yell. He did better with the yell. In discussing what we were seeing, why he wanted to yell, I mentioned that I had broken concrete bricks, myself. Calfgrit7 was interested in this. I said, “I think we have a video of my black belt test.” I looked through our family videos, and sure enough, there was my Tae Kwon Do black belt test tape.

I took it off the shelf and pushed it into the VCR. I earned my black belt in TKD just a couple months before Calfgrit7 was born, and though I tried to keep up some self training at home for a couple years, I haven’t done any real training in the years that he can remember. So watching this video was a first for him seeing his dad doing “cool stuff” like fighting (sparring) and breaking things with punches and kicks.

He saw me defending against an attacker, and he was impressed when I knocked or twisted the guy down. I explained that this was just a test to show that I knew the moves for how to defend myself, and that we weren’t really hitting hard enough to hurt each other. But then the video came to the sparring — actual fighting, with padding on our heads, torsos, fists, and feet. I was fighting two guys at once, and we could hear the audience around the camera cheering me on. It was actually pretty exciting to watch. I mean, it’s no Ultimate Fighting Challenge in the Octagon, but it was me, Calfgrit7’s daddy in action.

And then he saw me fall down — hey, I was fighting two guys at one time, who both already had their black belts! — and he laughed. Okay, enough of the fighting . . . I fast forwarded the video to me getting ready to break two concrete bricks. At the time of the video, I had only broken one brick at a time before, twice. In the video, I approached the bricks, held up by two concrete cinder blocks, and got into position for a downward smash with my right hand. I took a couple of slow line up moves, and then stood up and back away.

“Are you going to break them, Daddy,” Calfgrit7 asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m just getting ready.”

I was intently watching my face on the video. This was the first time I’ve watched this since right after the test, but I could remember what was going on in my head and body at that time. For one thing, I was very tired, exhausted. Before the bricks were set up, I had already been doing calisthenics, maneuvers, defenses, and sparring for half an hour, in front of an audience (the part I hated the most). I knew I couldn’t let the tiredness make me sloppy or else I’d just smack the top brick and hurt myself.

In the video, I stepped up to the bricks again, and got into position. Watching the video, I was getting excited again. I glanced over at Calfgrit7 and saw him watching intently. I noticed even Calfgrit3 was watching now.

My video self struck down and smashed through the two blocks with a strong yell. Hearing the applause on the video made me feel proud. (I don’t remember hearing the applause live. I was very much in a zone.)

“Wow,” Calfgrit7 said.

I beamed at him.

“Have you ever broken as many as that guy on the sports show?” he asked.

“Uh, no.” I said, hearing some of the hot air hissing out of my ego balloon. “I only broke two.”

And then everyone’s attention went elsewhere.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com