Kid Conversations

Kids are naturally selfish, and one of a parent's jobs is to train them to be less so. Sharing with their brothers and sisters, not bullying (just because they can), doing nice things for others -- these are learned behaviors.

One order I give at home that's always ignored is "That's enough!" If Conor's telling a story at dinner that belittles Emmet, I give him a "That's enough!", but he seems physically unable to stop until the cruel point is made. Repeating the order, ever louder, has no effect. I haven't decided yet if I have to ramp up the consequences, or let them outgrow it (it's not just Conor). It's frazzling.

Another one: My kids are almost to the point where they don't automatically interrupt a conversation just because they've got something to say or ask. Almost. But I remember the early years well, when one of them (any of them) would interrupt with "Mom?" or "Dad?" regardless of who was already talking, and repeat this every 1-2 seconds until he was acknowledged: "Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? " It was like a dental drill without anesthesia, especially at the end of a long day. I can find it a little amusing now when it's someone else's beloved child, but the memory still gives me a toothache.

Revenge can be had, though. Here's a conversation non-starter we've had a hundred times at home, and we'll have another hundred, since it never gets old -- at least not to me:

(Whichever Kid): "Dad, d'ya know what's weird?"
"Flying monkeys?"
"No!"
"What, you don't think flying monkeys are weird?"
"DA-AD!"

I get bonus points if Whichever Kid forgets what he/she was going to say in the first place, although there's a little guilt, too. But that fades well before the next opportunity...

Pat

The Murphys

My father is as big a dog lover as we are, so when the kids were about 6, 4, and 2 he got each of them a different stuffed animal dog. Fiona's was sort of a Bernese mountain dog, and she named it Tulip (since shortened to "Tullie"). Conor's was a beagle, which he loved since we had a real beagle at the time. He gave his the same name: Murphy. Emmet's was a golden retriever, dubbed "Ruffie". (Originality in pet naming was not our long suit, as our first fish "Bob" would attest.)

Conor lost Murphy one time while running errands with Rachel around town. He was distraught, and Rach quickly found and provided an almost-identical replacement. But a week or so later when they were on Central Street they walked by the north branch of the library, and there in the front window was a sad-looking stuffed beagle watching out for his owner: the original Murphy. He was reclaimed, and Con now had a set of dogs, the Murphys.

One punishment Rachel would use with Conor when needed was to take the Murphys away for a while, sort of a beagle-free time out. Wherever she put them, though, as soon as Rach was distracted Conor would find and recover them, regardless of the consequences. One place he'd never look was the oven, so she started using that as the Murphy time-out box.

When pre-heating the oven one night for dinner (you can guess where this is going) there was an odd smell in the kitchen, and then some smoke: the Murphys had been forgotten about, until almost too late. They were singed all over, and had grill marks across them from the oven grate. With some delicate trimming and a good washing they were cleaned up pretty well, but retained their oven scars as badges of honor.

I don't remember how/when the third Murphy joined us, but it was years ago. He's a little smaller, therefore "Junior Murphy". And he's never been lost on Central Street, or cooked in the oven, so I suspect the other two still look down on him a little. ("Wimp!") All three are showing the typical signs of stuffed animal wear and tear, but are holding up pretty well.

The kids are pretty good with "alone time", usually reading or playing some computer game. None of them needs to be constantly entertained or engaged. But Conor's never really alone, as his pack of beagles is always close by.

Pat

Office Move

As part of a major reorganization at work I just moved my office. It's still in the same building, but I had to pitch what I didn't need anymore, box up everything else, and then unpack and arrange the new place. (Same size, roughly the same layout.)

While unpacking I noticed I had all of the usual office stuff, but I'd also accumulated an interesting assortment of decorations, mementos, knickknacks, tools, toys, etc. over the past 20 years. Here's most everything, in no particular order, with apologies to Umberto Eco:

• Bank deposit slips and envelopes


• Teflon tape


• Wall hook shaped like a finger


• Baseballs (3, with one signed by my old department)


• Old magnetic door name plates (4)


• Multi-vitamins, aspirin, ibuprofen, eye drops, comb, band aids, contact lens case


• Small hand lotion bottles from hotels (5)


• A variety of business card holders. A metal one is engraved with my name and the saying "ZAPP!", and the desktop holder has an engraved brass plate with "JUST REMEMBER, TEMA IS THE ONLY PRODUCT!"


• Lava lamp


• Mensa "Puzzle of the day" calendar


• A collection of pocket protectors, plastic templates for drawing chemical processing vessels, and a slide rule. Really.


• A porcelain "saddle ring" from a distillation column


• A small vial with several blue glass chips in it, labeled "from g.l. portable agitator shaft 5/24/90 PJH"


• French-English dictionary


• Webster's dictionary, a prize from a high school TV quiz show I was on in 1978


• Dilbert books (5)


• Cheap sunglasses


• Hardhat, custom-painted with my name and a shamrock


• A coconut carved into a monkey, with wire glasses


• Geode bookends


• "Learn Japanese" audio CD set


• Fancy commemorative pens in cases (4)


• Red plastic mugs (2): "Industrial and Specialty Chemicals - Abbott Laboratories"


• Framed pictures on display (6)


• Glass desktop trophy with inscription in Chinese


• Glass desktop trophy with small clock, and an etched picture of the people who attended a certain meeting


• Door magnets (2) with the image of a brain, labeled "PROACT"


• Strunk & White's "Elements of Style"


• Eyeglass repair kit


• Empty drug product display bottle of Zyflo (zileuton)


• Headphones


• Tiny tool set: Screwdriver, crescent wrench, measuring tape


• Pocketknives (2)


• TAP tie pin


• Various management books (17)


• Mardi gras-type bead strings (2)


• Pictures from a team outing in 1999


• A bottle of the Korean soft drink "Yellow Life"


• A desk clock engraved for Abbott's 100-year anniversary in 1988


• Custom plaque from 1988 from Department 884 in building C-10, with a centrifuge and a pump


• Various small plastic signs from building C-10, removed before its demolition


• Books: "Just Enough German", "Culture Shock! Korea", "Berlitz Japan", "Astronomy 365 Days"


• Chemistry/engineering textbooks from the early '80's (10)


• Maps of: Macau, Hong Kong, Seoul, National Museum of Korea, Washington D.C., Eli Lilly facilities in Indianapolis, Mannheim (Germany), North Carolina, Newark, Madison, San Francisco, Puerto Rico, San Antonio (2), Frankfurt Airport, Burgenstock (Switzerland), Tokyo, Katsuyama (Japan), Osaka, Fukui, Osaka Castle. (I like maps.)


• A fake movie clapboard labeled "Project Office, Director Pat Harrigan, PBR, Take 2"


• Plant food and insect repellent


• Shamrock plant

I don't know what this all means -- I've never considered myself much of a pack rat, but that does seem like a lot of stuff. My office is still pretty tidy, though, so I suppose I've got room for the next 20 years...

Pat

Fitness

I have always liked being fit, for a variety of (mostly obvious) reasons.

I was in my best shape ever in my senior year of high school, at the end of wrestling season. For the last few weeks of the season we added a 45 minute before-school running session to our 2-1/2 hour after-school practice. In addition I had gym class each day; it happened to be when swimming was being taught, so I passed on the varsity-athlete exemption and went ahead with the lifesaving class. And I recall being aware of my state: "Gee, I'll probably never be as conditioned as this again."

Wrestling was an interesting sport, especially for someone with more of an academic bent. Having moved to a new school right before my senior year, my new friends in my AP classes were surprised at this activity: "You do what?" (Of course the guys on the wrestling team had the opposite question: "You're taking what classes?") But through hard work and my innate athletic ability I managed to achieve mediocrity on the mat. It's the kind of sport you leave behind in high school, but with a few fond memories.

During college exercise was mostly fun -- intramural and pick-up sports, especially basketball, etc. My conditioning throughout varied with the ratio of exercise to beer consumption, semester to semester. Later on I did get into running a little, but found it pretty boring. (No iPods back then, remember?) But it was a start: Fitness for fitness' sake!

A favorite quote at the time was from John Irving's novel The Hotel New Hampshire, from the football coach Iowa Bob: "You've got to get obsessed and stay obsessed!" I had that written out on an index card, taped to my dresser mirror.

In 20+ post-college years my workouts have come and gone, depending on how busy I was at work, or how many squealing babies we had at home. But I always come back to a routine like "Run on Monday-Wednesday-Friday mornings, lift weights on Tuesday-Thursday at lunch." I suppose that's pretty tame as obsessions go -- no drinking raw eggs, or punching meat in a freezer, or running up the museum steps. But it has worked for me, generally.

For at least 10 years now I've been dogged by exercise-related injuries: tendonitis in my shoulder from lifting weights, a partially-torn Achilles and later plantar fasciitis from running, etc. After the second of these my doctor diagnosed the root cause as "You're getting old." I have to be extra-cautious when starting a new routine, and extra-conscious of any joint aches or pains. I have no desire to run a marathon, or bench-press a certain weight; just maintain a reasonable level of fitness.

There have always been at least two other motivations at play:

• I'm a cheapskate, and if I get too pudgy I'll have to buy all new pants.
• Like everyone else, I look better when I'm in shape. (I'm more vain than I appear...)

Moving from adulthood into middle age, a final motivation is: I should stay in shape for my health, for the sake of my loved ones. If I can put off that heart attack until my 70's, it'd be good for everyone involved. Especially now.

A quote that describes my current fitness approach is from Gandhi: "Everything we do is futile, but we must do it anyway." It's this attitude that would keep Gandhi from being a personal trainer today. That, plus his unorthodox ideas about "healthy sports drinks."

So if you go by the house early in the morning and look up at the 2nd floor porch you may see a slightly flabby, grey-haired guy huffing and puffing on the elliptical machine. And you'll know why, if you didn't already.

Pat