parenting

Cancer Update  /  Morning Update  /  Personal
Morning Update: 03/22/24
March 22, 2024

Another Morning [2015 original photo with AI-modified background]

Going to bed early has its consequences. For two nights in a row, I’ve missed late messages that would have altered my morning had I been able to respond to them in time. Dear friends, I no longer exist in an environment where I have good reason to be up late. There are some nights when I am, but it’s by no means consistent. As a general rule, for anyone, messages need to be sent before 9:00 PM. Anything after that runs a high probability of being missed until the next morning or, perhaps worse, getting an angry response from someone who doesn’t appreciate being woken. A little consideration goes a long way.

Another consequence is that, once something does wake me during the night, I tend to stay awake. Last night, that meant I was still struggling to get back to sleep at 3:00 AM. Even the cats get annoyed when that happens because my tossing and turning makes it impossible for them to stay still. The cats start hissing and batting at each other, and that causes the dogs to run for cover. Now, no one is getting any sleep. The cats settle back down the easiest, and Belvedere, the hound, usually isn’t far behind them. Hamilton, the lab, has more trouble getting settled. His favorite place? Right across my pillows. Yeah, that’s a lot of fun.

Tipper is excited about going to ComicCon today and G is excited about doing a shadow day at a nearby company. The difference between attitudes on school days and today is extreme. I’m still nervous about Tipper being downtown, but Kat is working today which puts her just a little over a mile away from the convention center should she be needed. How things go today will likely determine whether I go camp out at a coffee shop tomorrow or Sunday. I still don’t trust the conflagration of sports fans and ComicCon attendees. Both have plenty of jerks in their midst and it only takes one sarcastic taunt to cause trouble. Putting both within the same mile square seems to me like a bad idea, but hey, it’s money so there’s no way the city is going to turn either down.

There’s a lot I don’t understand. For example, explain to me like I’m five why anyone still thinks that when a fight happens at school that it’s appropriate to punish the victim. Tipper was telling me of an incident at her school yesterday where one person, who is perpetually causing trouble, intentionally dumped chocolate milk and applesauce on someone who was minding their own business. I wouldn’t have blamed the second person had they gotten up and punched the living daylights out of the first person, but they didn’t. They sat their and took it hoping to avoid getting in trouble. That’s not what happened. Instead, because of the school’s “no tolerance” policy, both were suspended.

Have we not learned that policies like this are a defamation of justice? When there is a clear victim, are we supposed to ignore their trauma, and their pain, and blame them for simply existing? Why are we complicating the lives of children who already live on the edge in an environment where too many people are beating up on them in too many ways? Explain to me like I’m five, please, why we think this is an appropriate way to treat young people. I just don’t get it.

Again, there are consequences to our actions. One of the issues facing Democrats, in particular, this election season is that young voters, the ones who exist in numbers large enough to sway the outcome, are so upset with the state of government that they’re boycotting elections. First of all, young people need to understand that boycotting elections never works in the favor of the ones boycotting. Instead, we end up with a government even more corrupt, even more incapable of positive change, and dangerously close to dictatorship. Why risk that outcome? At the same time, however, how has either side proven that they can be trusted? Looking at their parents, their teachers, their local leaders, and their national representatives, young people see nothing but chaos and inaction. There’s a lot of talk and ruckus, to be sure. There are a lot of threats tossed back and forth. What young adults are not seeing is an example of responsibility from either side. This results in complacency because if the last eight years have taught them anything it’s that they can’t trust the geriatric crowd at all. They can’t trust them to keep kids safe at school and they can’t trust them to run the fucking country.

What scares me is that it’s probably too late to change attitudes before this election. I don’t see either side making the decisions that would cause young adults to feel that their leaders are trustworthy. Too many politicians are calling for violence if they don’t win. If schools have taught us anything it’s that the victims are the ones who suffer the greatest consequences in those instances. Are we all screwed? That’s certainly how it feels.

Meanwhile, both the Kansas and Missouri attorneys general filed a brief with the Supreme Court supporting the idea that presidents are immune from any prosecution for anything. Here we go again, the culprit, this time a sitting president, gets away with breaking the law and there are elected officials who are STUPID enough to think that’s just fine and, worse yet, the geriatric set just keeps voting for them! WHAT THE LIVING FUCK? Have you lost your ever-loving mind? One of the basic concepts of democracy is that NO ONE, not even a president, is above the law! We were all taught that in fifth grade! What’s with the complete stupidity here?

Churches aren’t helping, either. Television evangelists are telling their viewers that this election is “for the soul of America” and encouraging violence if the outcome doesn’t go their way (Republican). First off, this type of maneuver isn’t remotely Christian. There is no educated statement one can make that supports such filth. Second, what the fuck are religious nut jobs doing mixing politics and religion? Oh yeah, they want to speed us along to the “end of the age” because … uhm … Jesus. Sure, let’s kill billions of people so a few million can get their “heaven?” Are we supposed to believe any of that makes a lick of sense?

Oh, and Kentucky coach John Calipari, the king of one-and-done freshmen, once again blames his youngest players for losing to a 14-seed in the NCAA men’s basketball tournament. Heaven forbid the coach take some fucking responsibility for how his team plays. Heaven forbid Calipari set a good example. Heaven forbid the university to live up to the promises it makes to young athletes. When the geriatric league behaves like this, what choice do young adults have but to put as much distance between them as possible?

There are too many reasons to not trust politicians over 50. Fuck 80, this current group got too old too fast and is no longer good for being in charge of anything. I doubt they can even take their medicine without assistance. I can’t tell my kids to trust anyone when I don’t trust anyone who pretends to be in charge. The under-30 crowd is on their own, having been abandoned by the parents, the teachers, and the leaders they were told had their back.

But I’m supposed to be okay with sending my 14-year-old daughter to ComicCon this weekend.

I have multiple coffee shops staked out.

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Nature  /  Photography  /  pop culture
Waterfalls And Sunshine
June 14, 2016

Many a calm river begins as a turbulent waterfalls, yet none hurtles and foams all the way to the sea. —Mikhail Lermontov

 

charles i. letbetter - waterfalls and sunshine

We returned last week to one of my favorite places in Indiana and found it glorious.

For eleven years these waterfalls have haunted my memories.

When I first moved to Indiana and was looking for places to shoot, McCormick’s Creek State Park was one of the first places recommended. I wasn’t expecting too  much in the way of excitement because, after all, this is Indiana; the state’s not exactly well-known for its dramatic topographical variances. When I first experienced the waterfall, though, I was hooked. I bought an annual pass and made the trek down there two, sometimes three times a week. I would arrive at 7:00 AM, right as the gate opened, shoot through the early morning sunlight making its way down the canyon, and be eating breakfast in Bloomington before 10.

Some of the pictures we took here that summer are still among my favorites. Not only are the waterfalls beautiful, but the creek itself meanders softly through the canyon giving home to incredible amounts of wildlife, if one take a moment to explore. Small snails cling to the rocks. Minnows dart back and forth in the shallow waters. Uniquely colored birds fly through the trees. As a photographer, the choices of scenery and background are never-ending. One could shoot here for innumerable days without capturing the same scene twice.

Sadly, after that first summer, my circumstances took a severe change and I wasn’t able to go back. Even when I did have access to a vehicle and sufficient time, I knew I didn’t dare make the trip alone anymore. I’m not as sure-footed at clambering over the rocks as I once was. Excuses were easy enough to find.

Until this past week, that is, when I decided to put excuses aside and take the family on a day trip. We don’t get many chances to wander now that Kat’s in school full-time, but we had an opening and took advantage of it. Even as we packed the water and snacks we would need for the trip, though, I wondered if everything would still be the way I remembered it. Would the stairs down to the waterfalls still be steep? Would the waterfalls still be as broad or would natural erosion have taken a toll? Would the pool below the waterfalls be too deep or too crowded for the kids to enjoy? Would the creek itself be as I remember?

The drive to McCormick’s Creek is only about an hour South of Indianapolis. There are three different totally reasonable routes to take, but I suggest using state highway 67 South through Mooresville, Friendswood, and Paragon. The drive is much more quiet and serene, void of the traffic on Interstate 70 and without the maddening construction on state highway 37. Note: You’ll want to use Google Maps, not Bing, for directions. Bing won’t give you highway 67 as an option.

Since we were taking the kids, we didn’t arrive as early as I might have wanted for my own purposes. Putting kids in the car at 6:00 AM would have created challenges we didn’t need. So, we didn’t arrive until nearly 11:30. The sun was high, which normally makes for horrendous photographs, except that the canyon prevents much direct sunlight from getting through. As the light bounces off the bare limestone, the light is diffused so that there is almost always a good angle for taking pictures.

The kids, of course, loved the waterfalls and were thrilled that we actually let them get into the water (Kat tends to be a bit cautious). Little man tried climbing the falls while Tippy enjoyed sliding down the rocks. While there, we met an old hippy with dreadlocks in both his hair and his beard, a couple with a six-month-old great dane puppy, and plenty of other families out exploring. I have always been pleased that McCormick’s Creek is not one of those places where a constant presence of park rangers is necessary to prevent trouble. People who come here do so to relax, not act like assholes.

Of course, I have pictures and what we’re showing you today is just the first set. I made Kat take a swimsuit and do the model thing, but we’ll save those pictures for tomorrow. These focus more on the kids and the natural surroundings of the waterfalls. Peaceful. Quiet. I processed most in black and white because I feel the look is more dramatic, but I did keep a couple of images in color; one because Kat requested such, and the other because the bright orange of Little Man’s shirt against the dark rock of the waterfalls was too powerful to mute.

We’ll be returning to McCormick’s Creek a couple of times in the next few weeks. One will be with a friend I’ve not seen in a while, and the other will be to camp for the weekend with extended family. Both will give us ample opportunity to explore even more and capture additional pictures and different times of the day.

For now, we hope you enjoy these and that they’ll encourage you to get out, stop making excuses, and resuscitate your imagination with waterfalls and sunshine.

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Personal  /  PotD
She Calls Me Daddy
June 12, 2016
charles i. letbetter - She Calls Me Daddy

The father of a daughter is nothing but a high-class hostage. A father turns a stony face to his sons, berates them, shakes his antlers, paws the ground, snorts, runs them off into the underbrush, but when his daughter puts her arm over his shoulder and says, ‘Daddy, I need to ask you something,’ he is a pat of butter in a hot frying pan. —Garrison Keillor

 

charles i. letbetter - she calls me daddy

The universe gave me a daughter and none of us, Daddy, daughter, nor the universe are going to be the same

Father’s Day can sometimes be a bit rough. I have three boys but haven’t lived with any of them for the past 11 years. I hold a lot of well-deserved guilt for not being there at times they really needed me, when the decisions were hard, when the circumstances were impossible to understand. There have been times they challenged whether I loved them. My record is far from perfect but I’m still proud of the young men they’ve become.

But then, I have two more. Biologically, I had absolutely nothing to do with their appearance on the planet. I thought I was done having kids 18 years ago. The universe intervened, however. Now, Kat regularly looks over at me, usually with one or the other of them in my lap, and reminds me, “They’re yours.”

Being a parent of young ones at an age where my peers are having grandchildren is challenging. I can’t run races or get down in the floor and wrestle like I did with my boys. They’re getting the well-used version of a Daddy and I sometimes wonder if that’s not cheating them a bit. Kat is quick to remind me, though, they chose me. The decision to call me Daddy was totally theirs.

Actually, the whole “Daddy” thing was a point of great concern. Tippy was two and Little Man had just turned four when I met Kat. They saw their bio-dad for what may be the last time shortly after Tippy turned three, and that wasn’t an especially pleasant visit. Tipster has no memory of the trip at all. The portion Little Man remembers is not positive. We were very concerned, though, that the decision of what to call me be theirs and no one else’s.

This took some time. Calling me by my name was easy. I was just another friend except that I never went away. Ever. There were times that made discipline difficult. Little Man would come back with “You’re not my Dad,” and I’d have to agree with him. More than once he asked when they were going to take me back home. But that hole was there in their lives and slowly, quietly, despite all the yelling and slammed doors, they’ve let me fill that space.

Getting along with Little Man has been one thing, but learning to deal with a little girl is a whole new experience. I’ve not had one of these before, and she is definitely a very different personality from her brother. Her imagination is off the charts. She sings herself to sleep at night. The more tired she is, the more she giggles. She loves to be tickled, loves having books read to her, and more than anything, she loves sitting in my lap.

She is the spitting image of her Mommy. Put pictures of her, Kat, and her grandmother next to each other and you can only tell the difference by the age of the photos. She’s like her mother in other ways, too, that don’t necessarily work when one is six. She’s stubborn. She wants to do things her own way. She’s confident and doesn’t need you to tell her what to do. She can be defiant in the face of authority and she’s not taking crap off of anyone, especially her brother. Those will all eventually become admirable traits as she becomes a young woman but right now, and especially at bedtime, we often wish she were a little more compliant.

It took a while for Tippy to get used to me. When I first moved in, she was still sleeping in her crib at night and needed help getting out of the morning. Several months passed before she would let anyone but Mommy be that morning person. She didn’t want to hold my hand. She clung tightly to Mommy, which might have been endearing except for those moments when Mommy’s hands were already full. She regarded me with caution for the first year and more. That was okay. We knew that both kids would have to adjust at their own pace.

When we noticed her changing, though, was when both she and Kat started school last fall. At school, they would talk about families and other kids had a Daddy. Then, when she came home from school, I was the only one here. Mommy usually wouldn’t get home until well after she was in bed for the night. I helped with her homework, made sure she had clean clothes, let her take long baths with her toys, and tucked her in for the night. Slowly, she would occasionally call me Daddy, but usually, it was quiet. You could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

After the kids changed schools, we noticed a difference. She was more confident in how she referred to me, not only around her peers, but anywhere, with anyone. If someone would ask her who I was, she would grin mischievously and say, “Oh, that’s just my Daddy.”

The biggest confirmation came just this past week. Kindergarten graduation. The event was held mid-morning, when a lot of parents couldn’t be there, including Tippy’s Mommy. The Tipster was incredibly excited, though. She woke up bouncing with anticipation that morning. As I put her on the school bus, I reminded her I would be there. I wasn’t sure how she would respond. During the event, she would flash me an occasional smile, but was being very careful to follow the instructions her teacher had given. When they called her name, I was the only one who yelled for her, and she looked more perturbed than pleased.

After the event, I went to her room fully expecting to have to remind her that Mommy was at school. All the other kids seemed to have their entire extended families there, some with balloons and stuffed animals. How could I possibly compete with that? Then, as I walk into the classroom, Tippy looks up, her face brightens, and she screams, “DADDY!!!” at the top of her lungs and she runs into my arms. The hugs were big. She kissed all over my face. She showed me her diploma then had to show me her entire classroom.

If there was any question remaining, that moment cleared up the doubt. I have a daughter. We call her Tippy. She calls me Daddy.

Happy Fathers Day.

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Status  /  video
Casual Friday
April 8, 2016
charles i. letbetter - casual Friday

A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything. —Friedrich Nietzsche

charles i. letbetter - casual friday

When Fridays turn foul we do best to just wait the day out and hope for a better tomorrow

There are days when there is absolutely nothing you can do to boost productivity. Some days are just bad and this is feeling very much like it is going to be one of them. Here it is the start of Spring, still early in April, and while we might expect the rain we’ve been having, waking up to a 30-degree temperature this morning isn’t exactly a good way to start the weekend. The cold snap we’re experiencing is thwarting plans left and right and making the children difficult which in turns makes me irritable.

Since productivity is out the window, for the fifth time this week, my plan for today is to simply survive. There’s really no other choice. The kids are feeling the cabin fever just as much as I am and if I want to keep the noise level down to a point where I’m not committing violent crimes against all of humanity then we’re going to have to make this Friday a most casual one and do something I would normally not recommend doing: watching movies.

Of course, for this casual Friday to actually work, I have to select just the right movies, a blend that will keep the little one’s from further destroying the house while simultaneously not drive me to the point of wanting to nuke the entire Disney operation. This isn’t easy. Fortunately, Netflix has a large number of options and recommendations. So, here’s what we’re going to try (hint, click on the titles to go directly to the movies):

The Mummy

I consider it part of my duty to both instill a sense of fear in children everywhere and I can think of no better way to do that than through really cheesy action and adventure flicks. Let’s face it: anything with Brandon Frazer is automatically covered in a pretty heavy dose of cheese. It’s casual Friday, though, so maybe we’ll just use that cheese and make nachos.

Spy Hard

The late Leslie Nielson brought a level of humor and satire to movies that I know is going to sail right over the kids’ heads. That’s okay. There’s enough slapstick to make them laugh. Leave the more subtle aspects for me. Maybe one day the kids will look back and think, “Why did anyone let me watch this?”

Barbarella

Just kidding. Tossed that one in to give Kat a startle. Happy casual Friday, dear!

Bewitched

Proof that Will Ferrel can make a really lousy movie that flops at the box office. I loved the original series, but this just stinks from one end to the other. Perfect for kids who don’t know the meaning of the word “quiet.”

Big Trouble In Little China

Okay, this one’s actually pretty good and by this point in the day I’m going to need something with the right blend of comedy and action and racial stereotypes. Well, okay, I could do without the racial stereotypes. Still, my hope is this is the one that puts them down for a willing nap. Every casual Friday needs a nap, doesn’t it?

I should probably note that were there no children in the equation my list would look dramatically different. I’d much rather watch a good documentary such as Ken Burn’s piece on the Roosevelts, which I’ve still not finished. That would have the little ones bouncing off the walls, though, and this casual Friday would become chaotic Friday and we really, really don’t want that. Not again.

Yes, this is a perfect example of really horrible parenting. You shouldn’t do this. Do not follow my example. If you need to have a casual Friday of your own, I’m sure there are much more wholesome and educational activities with which you could pass the time with your children. I’m sure your children are wonderful, beautiful, and always incredibly well behaved and listen to every instruction you give them. These two don’t, though, and since nothing else this week has worked I’m throwing in the towel and turning on the television. I’m sorry. If you think something different should happen, you are more than welcome to come take over. The backdoor is unlocked (I think).

Oh, and despite the pictures above, this casual Friday does not involve nudity. Again, kids. If they weren’t here, however … (ahem).

Enjoy your casual Friday. If there are no new articles tomorrow you’ll know I didn’t survive.

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PotD
Let Sleeping Babies Lie
October 6, 2015
charles i. letbetter - let sleeping babies lie

charles i. letbetter - let sleeping babies lie

Ballets and teddy bears

People who say they sleep like a baby usually don’t have one.—Leo J. Burke

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]I never knew how important sleeping is until we had a baby. Not so much my sleeping, mind you, but the baby’s sleeping. It really is a big deal and, like much of everything else, it varies greatly from one child to the next. All three of our boys were different. The first apparently read the textbook while he was in the womb and followed it quite precisely. He spoiled us. The second didn’t read anything and came out ready to play, not sleep. EVER. The third, bless his little heart, slept through the night from day one. That seemed to upset the pediatric nurses, but when you’re on baby number three you’ve learned: let sleeping babies lie.

When you’re about to be a new parent, you slowly become aware of just how much work this new child is going to be. Your life patterns and routines are going to be dramatically altered. As you consider the growing list of things you’ll need to do, you begin to wonder how it is all going to fit. Then, you tell yourself the biggest lie ever: “I’ll get it done while the baby is sleeping.” No, you won’t. By the time that precious little squirt finally falls asleep, you’ll be too exhausted to do anything else. You decide laundry can wait, dishes can wait, exercise can wait; pretty much everything can wait while you take a quick nap.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]”Put your baby on a schedule,” pediatricians and mommy blogs tell you. Yeah, right, like a baby can read a schedule. That approach might work once, if the child decides to agree, but be prepared to negotiate the sleeping schedule with your infant. Be prepared to lose those negotiations. The baby doesn’t understand a thing you’re saying. They’ll either laugh and coo because the big people look so funny when talking to the baby, or they’ll cry and spit up because, even at two-weeks-old, they’ve already had enough of your bullshit. Trying to put babies on a sleeping schedule is like trying to walk a cat on a leash: just because someone on the Internet says they did it doesn’t mean it’s actually possible with your child/cat.

Before you know it, your entire world revolves around the baby’s sleeping schedule. Getting them down for a nap is a precise routine you could, and sometimes do, perform with your eyes shut. You warn friends to not call or drop by while the baby is sleeping. You re-arrange your schedule, your meal times, and your entire life. There is no force or power on earth as strong as that of a sleeping baby. Be very quiet and tiptoe away.[/one_half_last]

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Uncategorized
Independence, Done Well
July 3, 2015
charles i. letbetter

charles i. letbetter

For My Birthday (2012)

“I do as I please, Monsieur Beauchamp, and believe me, what I do is always well done.” ― Alexandre Dumas

[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]As you are reading this, chances are I am on my way to Chattanooga to see the boys. Well, at least one of them, maybe. The oldest is happy to be working the holiday weekend. Pvt. Letbetter is taking a short leave with friends in L.A. So, the youngest is, by default, stuck with Dad. This is what happens when children are raised to be independent; they grow up and go do their own thing with their own friends. Maybe they’ll send pictures, if they happen to think about it, but chances are we’ll have to prod them just to make sure they’re still safe. While I’ll miss having the other two around, this is ultimately a good thing. They are exercising their independence and it would be inappropriate to attempt to prevent that.

I never have understood this whole trend toward helicopter parenting; hovering over one’s offspring as though the umbilical cord was still attached. Loving one’s children does not require smothering them with so much of your attention that they become unable to sufficiently function without you. As much as we love our children, we need a break from them and I’m quite sure they welcome not seeing our faces for a few minutes. We want to be accessible when they have a legitimate need for assistance, such as kissing a boo-boo after they’ve face-planted the sidewalk (just as soon as we stop giggling about how funny it looked). We don’t want to shadow them to the point they lose their identity in our desires.

One of the larger playgrounds we frequent with Kat’s little ones is the perfect place for them to run and play without us needing to eyeball them the entire time. They run, they play, they make new friends, and when they’re sufficiently exhausted they come find us. We then tell them to go and play thirty minutes more because we don’t want them getting a second wind on the ride home. This is not just an exercise in independence, this is an exercise in wearing the children out so they’ll fall asleep without two hours of argument. We love going there.[/one_half]

[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]However, I am always amused by the parents of their peers who never sit down and take advantage of the intelligent way the playground is arranged. They stay right there within arms reach, not letting their child take even the slightest risk, manipulating their peer relationships, and managing their playtime. I’ve noticed these parents don’t stay at the park as long and I can only assume that it’s because they exhaust themselves more than they do their children. Some parents just have an emotional need to be close to their children; I get that. Their children, on the other hand, would probably do much better if mom and dad would back off just an itsy bit every once in a while.

Independence is something into which a child should grow, not something to which they flee out of desperation.  Yes, they are going to make mistakes. Yes, they are going to fall, or get lost, or have heart breaks. How else does one learn how to manage the challenges of life if one’s parents are there rapidly applying salve to every little scrape and preventing them from experiencing the natural consequences of their actions? We’ve seen the adults   those children become and it’s not attractive.

Many of the models with whom we work now are close in age to my own children and I often find myself making comparisons. Were they to be like the model in today’s picture I would be happy; she’s independent, ambitious, knows what she wants and is in control of her future (to the extent anyone can be). Not many people we meet are so impressive. She’s had more than her share of challenges and has weathered them well. She loves her mom, but she’s unquestionably her own person.

Maybe we’ll only see one son this trip. That’s quite alright because we love all three enough to let go and let them become who they need to be. Laws of nature demand baby birds leave the nest and fly.  We just hope they’ll send pictures. That’s independence done well. [/one_half_last]

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