Adding a Wild Animal to the Zoo.

Kansas has had some fun weather this year. This summer the record of 100 degree days was broken, from 50 to 53, snow started about a month early in mid-November, of which there has only been one other day of snow, we've seen thunderstorms coming with those snowstorms, and there have even been earthquakes. Not technically weather, but EARTHQUAKES IN KANSAS!


While it appears we won't soon see any more of the dreaded Thundersnowquake, it has been weirdly warm. Yesterday the temperature reached above 60. We also managed Wednesday afternoon to all haul out to the Sedgwick County Zoo.

Jack at the penguin cove.

 Madison with Mama bear statue with her newly injured lip.

Charlotte riding baby bear.

3 kids 6 and under is always an adventure. Especially when the boy is 4 and runs nonstop. Especially when Jack would see an empty plot of sidewalk he could sprint to. More than once I heard my wife say to me, "Would you control your son?" It wasn't so much saying it. She apparently thought our son was becoming feral.

I normally would have been running right alongside him, but a heavy morning at the gym prevented that for the most part. So instead I got, "Would you control your son?"

The truth is, probably not. Yes, there are certain social protocols and behaviors that everyone is expected to follow, even around wild animals, but I think my wife was thinking about all these well-behaved homeschool children who know how to sit for 2 hours with their hands folded neatly in their laps. They all dress in khakis and flannel shirts, seem to always be smiling, and can tell you the difference between Rehoboam and Jeroboam.

And then there's Jack.

Just a whiff of the outdoors sends this kid into a frenzy. He's been cooped up inside for the past weeks from the cold and all the holiday fun at family's houses that he needed to run some energy out, and the zoo is a much better place to do it than the middle of the busy street less than a quarter mile from our house.

Chaos? Yes. But controlled chaos. Sort of.

Sorry, honey, but this kid is a boy. And boys are wild animals at heart. He knows there are lines not to cross, and he does learn from his mistakes, but he still needs to feel untamed every now and then.

Of Knights and Squires

A while back, after my oldest daughter watched the Barbie movie of The Three Musketeers, she wanted me to make her a sword. So I found some scrap wood in the garage, sawed off a not-sharp point, and screwed a board across. She was 5. Seeing this, Jack, 3 wanted a sword as well. I made his sword much shorter. It looked like a fight between Peter Pan and Captain Hook. And, as in a Pan/Hook duel, even with the differences in age and sword lengths, it was a fair fight.

Madison eventually stopped playing with her sword when she realized that there are no such things as Musketeers anymore, so Jack took up the long sword. Last fall, I went with him to pick out a large, flat piece of wood to make a shield. I showed him some designs and he picked one, opting for one of the trickier designs to cut out with a circular saw.

He now fights off dragons, bad guys, and often keeps the sword and shield near his bed for protection at night. We've told him that there's a guardian angel with a real sword keeping watch, and Jack is ready to fight along his side.

I've been reading Howard Pyle's novel Men of Iron. It concerns the growing up of young Myles Falworth in the early 15th century from a strong, stubborn boy through his time as a squire and becoming a knight. Not so much a spoiler here: he gets knighted 2/3 of the way through the book. But there is an exchange between Myles and his best friend Francis Gascoyne when Myles first tells him that he is to be knighted and Francis faces the thought of his companion for the past four years leaving:

Suddenly he turned to Myles. "Wilt thou grant me a boon?" [a favor]
  "Yes, answered Myles. "What is it?"
  "That thou wilt choose me for thy squire."
  "Nay, said Myles; "how cans thou think to serve me as a squire? Thou wilt be knight thyself some day, Francis, and why dost thou wish now to be my squire?"
  "Because," said Gascoyne, with a short laugh, "I would rather be in thy company as a squire than in mine own as a knight, even if I might be banneret." [a knight commanding troops under his own banner]
  Myles flung his arm around his friend's neck, and kissed him upon the cheek. "Thou shalt have thy will," said he; "but whether knight or squire, thou art ever mine own true friend."

Two peers, one voluntarily going to service for the other. The thought of separating was that great.

As fathers, are we raising the kinds of boys we would have for our squires?

Or,

Are we raising the kinds of the knights to whom we would willingly become a squire?

Better than GI Joe

Every so often, a guy will see a military movie or documentary on TV and say those four little words that cause tingles to go up the spines and into the brains of wives and mothers: "I can do that."

Consider a camera crew following a group of Navy officers and enlistees through BUD/S training to be come Navy SEALs--a program that has a washout rate of 75-80%. Endless pushups, 3-4 mile runs in combat boots, carrying logs and rafts in and out of the surf, and the wonderful encouragement by the instructors who feel the need to use reverse psychology to motivate. But I'm impervious to yelling. I'm awesome; I can take it.

Or there's a big movie that has a small group of soldiers staying on covert op missions for weeks at a time, having to rely on their own survival instincts to defeat the aliens/terrorists/rogue Canadians. There's someone who goes nuts and yells, "We're all gonna die!" right before getting shot in the back of the head, a woman who is tougher than all the guys put together, and somehow one guy has a samurai sword. It's the Ensign Ricky/GI Jane/Snake Eyes trifecta.



Boys' time with action figures has all this as well. They understand dispersing different weapons according to the user. The beefy guy will get either the biggest gun or the broadest sword. Someone will have the sword, someone will be going in with hand-to-hand combat, and the girl will miraculously survive it all. There needs to be some way to repopulate the world with good stock after nuclear annihilation, after all.

And the man says: I can do that.

2 Samuel 23 tells about King David's mighty men and some of their exploits that put all of these fictional heroes to shame. This one's my favorite:

Benaiah son of Jehoida, a valiant fighter from Kabzeel, performed great exploits. He struck down Moab's two mightiest warriors. He also went down into a pit on a snowy day and killed a lion. And he struck down a huge Egyptian. Although the Egyptian had a spear in his hand, Benaiah went against him with a club. He snatched the spear from the Egyptian's hand and killed him with his own spear. (v. 20-21) 

A few verses later we find that King David put Benaiah in charge of his bodyguard. Probably a smart move. This is definitely the kind of guy you want to keep close. In fact, reading on past the death of David in 1 Kings, Benaiah helps establish Solomon's place as king of Israel (that means he went out and killed any past enemies of David who might come against Solomon).

But to the specifics: killing to Moabites--no big deal, right? They get beaten every now and then by Israel. Taking the spear away from an Egyptian--that's nothing. I've seen The Last Samurai. I saw how Tom Cruise was attacked by five ninja assassins, took one of their swords, and killed them all. And if a short guy with only a winter's worth of samurai training can take out 5 professional assassins, anyone can.

But the lion? Sorry. Not going there. I don't even know if the lion is injured, if he was tracking the lion, if he set the pit as a trap, or any other variables. For that matter, where do you find a lion and snow in the same part of the Middle East?

Boys will fight sharks, lions, dinosaurs, and dragons in their imaginations, and that bit of imagination still carries with us. A part of every man still wants to go out and be the greatest warrior imaginable--Russell Crowe caliber. This is why men keep watching these movies. Want a great man's afternoon? Braveheart, followed by Gladiator, then 300. See what happens when you monitor your blood pressure during all 3. There's no man can come out of there not wanting to pick up a sword, saying in the deep recesses of his mind, I can do that. GI Joe has nothing on me.

Men will fantasize about epic battles and try to put ourselves on par with Navy SEALs, Army Rangers, Green Berets, Minutemen, Guerrilla soldiers, and Chuck Norris. But jumping into a pit with a lion is where we draw the line.


Wait, okay, I can do that.

They're watching us...

Every son is his father's apprentice, studying not his dad's profession but his way of living, thinking, and behaving.
Dr. Meg Meeker, Boys Should be Boys

And sometimes his profession, as well. My dad retired from teaching and spent every summer I can remember painting houses. Since we were old enough to hold a 4 inch brush coated with oil based paint, my brothers and sister and I were up on ladders painting with him. Now, I'm a teacher and occasional house painter. But that has nothing to do with my relationship with my dad and what I learned from him.

He grew up on a farm and still carries that even temperament. I've only known him to take a day off when he was in the hospital--and even then he had to be unconscious. There was always something to do to keep his hands busy, whether cleaning or repairing or volunteering at the church. Or painting others' houses.

I think I learned more about work from watching him than any inspirational quote or motivational book could ever teach. And that's something I hope to pass on to my son. Already he is eager to help me with projects around the house. There's a part of me that wants to just yell "Put the screws down!" "Give me that hammer!" "Don't touch the extension cord!" But I know that letting him explore and help and watch will do more teaching than yelling ever could.

Here are some lyrics that have stuck with me since I was in this musical in high school. From Stephen Sondheim's Into the Woods:

Careful the things you say, children will listen
Careful the things you do, children will see and learn
Children may not obey, but children will listen
Children will look to you for which way to turn
To learn what to be
Careful before you say, 'Listen to me'
Children will listen

My son is watching me finish this up, and on seeing the picture, he said, "That's me and Grampie under his truck." He's picking up something right.