Three, Two, One, Make Rocket Go Now!

After being a teacher for seven and a half years and a father for two and a half, I have concluded that I spend many of my spare mental moments considering what, if anything, I can do to A) prevent my son from being like some of the students I've taught and B) prod him in the direction of being like some of the other students I've taught.  So, rather than just allow those thoughts to escape like lightning bugs on a summer evening, I have decided to trap them in this blog where they will eventually end up burnt out and on the bottom of the jar.  Perhaps before their lights go out for good, they can offer you some insight into your own parenting, or answers about the uniquely conformist segment of the human population known commonly as the American teenager. 

Since I am not yet 30 years old, I labor under the illusion that I am still "hip" in some ways, but there is a litany of things about the world of today's teens that irks/frightens/mystifies me-- and that's before I even think about their behavior on Facebook!  One of the primary things that teaching teenagers has done for me as a parent is what inspired the name of this blog.  I often feel as though my experience teaching high schoolers allows me to hold a metaphorical fun house mirror up to my son.  Though the reflection is certainly not wholly accurate, there are portions of his nascent personality that will undoubtedly be a part of him into and even well beyond his teenage years.  What can I do to nurture him, equip him to be successful and happy, and just generally not screw him up?  Furthermore, how can my career help me (and perhaps, vicariously, you) do this?  My answer to those questions will be the backbone of this blog.  Perhaps more importantly, the meat on those bones will be this blog's ability to crystallize the ephemeral moments that all parents encounter as their toddler becomes a pre-schooler or their pre-schooler becomes a little person that gets on a bus and goes to "work" each day, living an entire existence that we, as parents, aren't privy to.  The moments that, when the child graduates from high school or gets married, we'd love to have on video to show everyone just how far they've come, and perhaps, just how little they have changed.  I will end this first blog post with one such example.  In the past three days, my son has stopped calling trucks "ruffs," abandoned "choo-choo" for train, and suddenly given up his staunch refusal to call our dog anything other than "puppy."  It seems as though he is transitioning from a little boy into, as he says, a "small man."  Perhaps it seems that way because he is.

- Teacher - Father -